Page 30 of Butterfly

Alex doesn’t ask more questions but lies down again. I lie next to him, wondering if he can see through me, see the ugly truth about my past. Because my nightmares don’t come from a rightful place—a storm I had no control over—but from hell.

“He’s all right,” I say.

Alex’s scent is all over the bed sheets and the pillow.

“That’s a relief.” He doesn’t seem relieved but watches me from underneath heavy-lidded eyes. “Sienna—”

“Don’t.” I recline on the pillow and stare at the ceiling where shadows dance. “Please, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s fine. You don’t have to talk about your nightmares with me, as long as you talk with someone.” He’s frowning, dark curls framing his strong jaw. “Are you talking with someone about your nightmares? A professional, I mean.”

“They’ll go away.” I’m almost tempted to show him the pen drive with the cursed video. Then he’d understand.

“The storm happened months ago.”

I massage my eyes. The effort of controlling my emotions exhausts me. “I really need to sleep.” A yawn escapes me, a genuine one.

He caresses the top of my head, his big, gentle hand. “I’m here if you need me.”

Blimey. I turn to him, and his hand cups my face. “You mean that, don’t you?”

“With all my heart.” He traces the curve of my cheek, and my pulse is speeding up again, but not in panic. “You can trust me.”

I say nothing, my tongue tied in a knot. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer.

As I rest my head on the hard wall of his chest, in the safe comfort of his arms, sleep drags me under, and I welcome the darkness.

~ * ~

PALLID SUNLIGHT WASHES over me through the window. I’m snuggled up against something warm and solid that smells of fresh soap. Safety and warmth seep into me. I blink the sleep out of my eyes. Alex is hugging me, his arms enveloping me, and my head is tucked under his chin. My cheek rests on his broad chest, and my body is flush against him. Tangled bed sheets are all around us, like after… Nope. Not going there. My leg is coiled over his hip in a possessive grip. Don’t know when that happened.

I take a deep breath, not sure if I should slip away unnoticed or wake him up. Although slipping away unnoticed is against the laws of physics. We’re entwined together so tightly that if I twitch my pinkie toe, he’ll notice. Also, the safety of his arms feels too good. His heart is beating at a steady tempo—heck, he’s got around fifty beats per minute, like an athlete. As I listen to his heart, my muscles slacken, and my breathing slows. I can’t remember the last time I was so relaxed with another person. He stirs, and something else stirs in his trousers. Oh. My. God. I guess he’s big all around.

“Good morning.” I scurry a few inches from him to give him space and to allow my excitement to subside.

He rubs his eyes and searches the room, dishevelled hair all around him. “Good morning.”

Gosh, his voice. So deep, so velvety. Waking up every morning and hearing that voice would put a permanent smile on my face. As if.

He stretches one arm over his head before gazing down at me. Realising right now that we’re shockingly wrapped one around the other, his expression relaxes. His fingers flex on my shoulder as he draws in a deep breath. We stare at each other. An entire world swirls in the depths of his grey eyes. We’ve shared so much in so little time, and this closeness holds the usual mix of familiarity and strange unease as in ‘I shouldn’t be here.’

“Did you sleep well?” There’s an intensity in his question that makes me think he isn’t asking for the sake of asking. He genuinely wants to know.

“No nightmares.”

“Good.” He opens his mouth to say something else, but Dart lets out a sound halfway between a whimper and a bark. “Hey, mate.” Alex turns towards his dog.

“I’ll check on him.” I slip out of his embrace, shivering as the cold air hits me. I jump off the bed and touch Dart’s neck and chest. His eyes are drooping, but his pulse is strong and his tail wags weakly. “Good boy.”

“How’s he?” Alex’s shoulder brushes mine when he crouches next to me.

I remove the drip and rub Dart’s leg where the cannula left a red dot. “He’s all right. He needs rest, food, and lots of cuddles.”

Dart’s tail is doing wide circles as Alex caresses his head. “Happy to see you too, mate.” His eyes glisten as he swallows.

Somehow, I find his hand, and our fingers are laced once again. Together, we watch as Dart is licking his nose and waving his big paw. A moment ago in bed, the sexual tension between Alex and me was thickening the air. But now, even though we’re holding hands, it’s a different type of intimacy. Not exactly platonic, but it doesn’t have the burden of the attraction either. We’re comforting each other. Dart trying to stand up breaks the moment.

I keep him down and block his rear paw before he can scratch the tender wound in his neck. “You can go and change if you want. Your clothes should be dry by now.”

---