Page 71 of Stolen Kiss

It took me a moment to remember where I was, and when I did, I tensed, worried I might have woken up either Jensen or Elodie.

“Dammit,” I whispered when I heard footsteps heading toward me. My door opened, and Jensen was standing there. It took a while for his eyes to adjust, and when they did and he found me lying there, he muttered a curse under his breath and quickly moved toward me.

“Emilia. Fuck, are you okay? What happened?”

“I fell out of bed,” I answered lamely. Even if I couldn’t see him very well, I knew he was frowning at me.

“How?”

I shrugged. “I might have rolled a little too far.”

“What?”

“I’m kidding.”

Jensen lifted me into his arms. I shifted a little, self-conscious that I wasn’t wearing my prosthesis in front of him for the first time, and I didn’t want to draw attention to it by saying anything.

He sat, placing me on his lap. I pulled his shirt down to cover the nub, even if it was dark and he could barely make out my face, let alone this.

“What happened?” he asked, sounding tired. I felt a little bad for waking him up and freaking him out.

I let out a sigh, knowing he wouldn’t go back to sleep until I told him everything. “I needed to use the bathroom. But I forgot I wasn’t in my room, and I lost my balance trying to find my crutches.”

He didn’t say anything to that. I shifted on his lap.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” His voice was gruff and thick, and I didn’t know why that was. I shook my head, even if he couldn’t see me. “No. Just my pride.”

I saw the gleam of his smile; he was probably trying to hold in a laugh. I slapped his chest. Not hard, but enough so he could feel my indignation.

“Sorry, baby,” he said, covering my hand with his own. Then he stood without warning and I had no choice but to grab onto him.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“My room.”

“Jensen…”

“To sleep. Just to sleep, Emilia. Because fuck, I don’t know how to leave you here by yourself after this.”

But how could I possibly go to sleep next to Jensen like this? I couldn’t say anything, and I didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that I didn’t have my fucking leg.

He was aware of the amputation, but for him to see it with his own eyes would be something else entirely.

I’d spent my whole life chasing glamour. Always the prettiest girl, the one who shined the brightest, but this stump…

My lips trembled.

It wasn’t beautiful.

I wasn’t beautiful. Not anymore.

I grew stiff in his arms.

I was sure he noticed, but he said nothing about it. Instead, he was silent on the walk to his room. When we finally got into the huge master bedroom, instead of carrying me to the bed, he brought me inside the connected bathroom, turning on the light. I was so rigid in his arms, I would surely shatter into a million little pieces if he dropped me.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“You said you have to use the bathroom.”

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