Page 228 of Never Die for a Sinner
He doesn’t answer right away. Just studies me, his gaze steady but unreadable, as if he’s weighing the risks. The silence stretches until I start to wish I could take the words back, as though saying them might have shifted something fragile between us.
“It’s dangerous out there,” I murmur, trying to fill the space. “And slick. I can make up the couch.”
His jaw tightens—just barely. His eyes linger on mine like he’s searching for something, some hidden meaning I’m too afraid to put into words.
He doesn’t move toward me, but I see the way his fingers flex at his side, like they’re fighting the urge to reach for me. My own hands are clenched in my lap, every muscle coiled, waiting for him to decide. The storm outside presses against the glass, but it’s nothing compared to the one sitting between us.
I almost think he’s going to deny me, and embarrassment floods through me at the prospect of his rejection.
“You sure that’s okay with you?” he asks finally.
I try to come up with a reason why it wouldn’t be, but I only come up short.
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” I repeat, and neither of us moves.
God, what am I doing?
I hop up before I can make a bigger fool of myself and head towards the bedroom.
“I’ll get some blankets.”
The wind beats against the side of the house, the sound howling in the night outside my window.
I’m lying on my side, watching the snow fall. Reminiscing about the life I thought I wanted, versus the one I have now.
Oddly enough, I wouldn’t ask for anything different.
These budding feelings in my chest, reminding me that Levi is out on my couch, are intense. New and vibrant and so much more than I bargained for.
Can I forgive him?
He protected me from the shadows lurking around me, shielding me from so much that even when I wanted to hate him for it, I couldn’t. I still can’t.
The man I met almost a year ago at Cross Estate isn’t the same one asleep on my couch tonight. He’s so much more.
Patient and gentle. Strong and steady when the rest of the world feels so unstable. He’s the rock that held me up when Gran died, and the same one that cradled me when I crumpled.
I keep waiting for the moment when my heart is no longer broken, but the problem is that it never really was. Because deep down, no matter why he did it, he did it because he loved me.
So the question ‘Can I forgive him’?
I already have.
Without thinking, I climb from the bed and hurry towards the bedroom door. An intense ache burns in my veins, knowing the only solace is him.
Levi and I aren’t black and white. We’re every color of the rainbow that doesn’t make sense, but somehow turned into something beautiful anyway.
I rip the door open, and my breath gets caught in my chest when I see him standing there, dark eyes and tousled hair, and God, I think it just hit me how much I miss him.
He had been about to knock because his hand drops to his side.
“I . . .” he starts, unsure what to say.
So, I make sure he doesn’t have to.
