Page 24 of Truth Be Told
I don’t say anything. I allow Cohen the time to collect his thoughts. After a while, though, I feel it might be better to leave, so I let the comforter slip from my shoulders. I’m about to stand when he takes a seat next to me on the bed.
“It was a nightmare.” He clears his throat and says again, more confidently, “What you saw? That was a nightmare. One of many.”
“I figured, but it must have been some nightmare. What was it about?”
He doesn’t answer, so it’s pretty obvious that he has something to hide. I don’t read into it any further, though. So far, Cohen has been nothing but honest with me, and if he has a reason to not be totally straightforward right now, I’m sure it’s a good one.
I wrap my arms around my knees, pulling them up to my chest. “I’m pretty sure nightmares are normal.”
He looks into the distance and replies, “Yeah. They can be.”
I place a hand on his shoulder, my intention for it to be nothing more than a reassuring gesture. But when I feel him, it brings me back to when he touched me for the very first time, that night in the cold alley with the fire alarm blaring in the distance. Me, surrounded by danger, and Cohen, the only one who I can now trust to step in and pull me away from it. From now on, I’ll always associate that touch of his with a feeling of raw male protection and strength. And that intoxicates me.
He notices my reaction to the touch. Of course he does.
He looks down at my hand and says, “What are you doing?” His voice is gravely and it sends shivers through my spine.
He gets me, like he always does, and it only takes a second for my thoughts to register in his mind. He submits and places a likewise sympathetic hand on my bare leg, his intention as innocent as mine first was.
I lift my face to his, trying to say something, but when our eyes meet, the words disappear. That’s okay. It feels as though none need to be said anyway.
He curls an arm around my waist.
I lean into his magnetic warmth, my head coming to rest against his chest.
The next time I look at him, this time to force some kind of words out, he locks his eyes on my lips and brings his to mine. My mind draws the moment out in slow motion, until I’m left watching him in anticipation. I can practically taste those lips before they arrive.
His lips are flushed from what he’s just been through, as is the rest of his body, and they warm mine as he kisses me. He cups the back of my head with his palm and together we fall into the bed.
As he rubs his thumb across my cheek, any remaining sensations of cold wash away. He runs that same hand from my face down my body, eventually to the top of my panties and then below them, resting at the top of my thigh.
We kiss until we can’t anymore, pulling back at the same time to save the remaining kisses for later with an unspoken promise that we both understand. Cohen sighs into my mouth as he touches my smooth upper leg. I wrap one leg around him and take in the ripples of his muscles on his perfect chest.
I give him a warm smile and a soft, crooked grin grows on face in response. I’ve never felt as safe as I do now, being held in the strong arms of this man who’s proven in more ways that on that he will protect me.
Suddenly, while I’m watching, that grin of his starts to fade away. Something dark passes behind his eyes, closing them off from me.
Just like that, I’ve lost him. He pushes himself away from me.
I sit up, confused.
He swings his legs over the edge of the bed. “You should get out of here, Stella.” He stands and grabs a shirt that’s hanging from one of his open dresser drawers.
I don’t respond. I can’t believe what he just said.
“This isn’t good for you,” he says as he puts the shirt on.
My mouth hangs open. “What?” I say in an exhaled breath. “Are you kidding me?”
“No, I’m not.”
And I can tell that he’s not. He’s trying to keep his back to me as he puts his shirt on, and from where I am I can see the muscles of his jaw tense. He’s dead serious.
“Okay, you’re serious. But… why? What are you talking about?”
He stands in front of the window before finally turning back to me to speak. “Come on, Stella. You’re smart. You know what I mean. I’m trying to tell you that I’m not any good for you.”
I shake my head. “You’re wrong. You might just be the only thing that’s good for me in my entire train wreck of a life.”
