Page 64 of The Deception You Weave
"Almost lunch."
His voice is rough, and I twist in his lap so I can look at him.
"Have you slept at all?"
"I'm fine," he assures me but I can tell from one look at him that he's not.
"I'll head home and let you rest."
"No," he says in a rush, his arms tightening around me. "Stay. Let me get you some food, you can shower or whatever. I just…" He looks away from me, I suspect to stop me from reading too much in his eyes. "I need you here right now."
His confession has my breath catching in my throat.
Reaching out, I cup his rough jaw, trying to twist his head back to me but he refuses.
"Kane, I—"
"I don't know how to process all this, Princess. I'm trying, I just…"
"It's a lot to take."
A humorless laugh falls from his lips before he falls silent once again.
My heart breaks watching him trying to deal with everything he's just learned. My own grief might be threatening to drag me under right now, but I've had a lot of time to deal with this. A year of this darkness that has festered inside me since that appointment.
“I’m a shit cook, but have you got any requests?”
I want to force him to talk, but I decide against it. This is new territory for us and it’s safe to say that it’s a minefield. I’m more than aware that at any moment I could say something that’s going to flip his switch and he could forget all about being nice and his anger could return full force.
“Nope, whatever you’ve got will be great.”
I twist around ready to climb from his lap but to my surprise once again, he holds tighter.
“Use whatever you can find. I’ll lay some clothes out for you on the bed for when you’re done.”
“T-thank you,” I stutter, feeling weird saying those words to him when we’re usually firing insults at each other.
“You’re welcome.”
Finally, he lets me up and I walk across his small room wearing only last night’s swimsuit and Reid’s hoodie.
I’m pushing the door open when he speaks again.
“Scarlett?”
I pause, waiting to see if he’s going to continue.
The silence is heavy as I wait and after only a few seconds, I look over my shoulder.
He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, still only dressed in his boxers with his fine body and tattoos on display but his lowered head and the confusion in his eyes stop me from taking my fill like I usually would.
“I’m… I’m sorry.” The roughness of his voice, the honesty within it makes all my hairs stand on end.
“For which part exactly?” I can’t help asking, knowing just how much he has to apologize for.
“I… um…” He looks away for a beat before his eyes come back to me. “For making you believe that I wouldn’t have been there.”
My chin drops, ready to respond but I soon swallow down the words.
