Page 22 of Loving You

I searched his face for a hint of shittiness beneath his easy tone, but there was none. “Thanks.” I picked up my plate and headed for the sink. “And… I’m sorry. I’m not feeling like myself and—”

He came up behind me as I turned on the water and started to rinse the dish, his large hand covering mine before he took it. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’ll get this. Go to bed.”

That time, Ireallywanted my first reaction to be annoyance at yet another dog trainer command. I wanted to quip about how he probably didn’t trust me to wash a dish in his housethe right wayand call him a control freak with a stick up his ass.

But no. My idiotic body responded in a much different,muchmore annoying way, and I found myself heating from head to toe.

Softly worded or not, this kinda stuff should be a red flag, right?

And yet… my traitorous feet carried me to the guest room as if they were happy to obey.

* * *

Cold hands gripped my neck, and I fought to breathe.

No.

He couldn’t have found me.

I was safe here. There were cameras and text alerts and—

With a gasp, I thrashed in the bed, my own internal protests reminding me where I was and that it wasn’t real. Untangling myself from the stupidly comfortable bedding that’d been twisted around me like an anaconda, I got to my feet and put my hands on my knees.

Nightmares?Who the fuck was I, and what happened to the April I’d spent the last five years creating?

I hadn’t had a nightmare about that creep in years. Even with all the paranoia over the last however many months, I hadn’t slipped into a panic-filled dreamland that I couldn’t escape.

Well, that could be because I wasn’t sleeping much, but still.

Why here? Why now? I was safer here than I would have been at my apartment or the tiny-ass attic room, and yet, this was the place where my nightmares returned?

Well,fuck that noise.

“Maybe some air will help,” I whispered into the darkness.

Sniffing hard, I shook out my arms and slipped out the bedroom door. The house was dark, which should have freaked me out, but there was something about this space that was oddly comforting.

It wasn’t the decor—I definitely wasn’t a fan of crushed leather for a couch. Too cold on bare legs, and I was a baggy sweatshirt with booty shorts kind of lounger. But I could feel Eric in every inch of this home, and I had a sneaking suspicion that was where the feeling came from.

Wasn’t that why I’d come here? The moment the offer hand metaphorically landed on the desk between us, I’d felt it. I’d known I’d feel safe in his space. I hadn’t been ready to accept it until tonight, but standing in the middle of his dark living room without an ounce of fear tingling up my spine was a helluva sign it was the right move.

Moonlight streamed through the rectangular windows that were so high up they didn’t need curtains for privacy, and I examined the large room as my eyes adjusted.

I knew enough about the Walker crew to know this wasn’t a place where they all gathered. They’d go to their mom’s or Jake’s. Hell, even Will and Kate’s new house was the perfect family home for barbecues or birthday parties.

But Eric’s house? It washis.

His domain, his sanctuary, his…ah, damn.

I’d invaded the one place in his life that wasn’t messy AF, and considering with what a mess I’d been when I’d arrived and how he’d literally cleaned up my mess after he’d made me eat dinner, I had a feeling at some point the man would seriously regret this.

Air. Still needed air.

I moved through the room and made a beeline for the back door, wincing when the click of the lock punctured the quiet. Then I slid it open and stepped out, taking a deep breath of mountain air.

Even in May, Granite Springs was chilly at night, but it felt good on my clammy skin after the nightmare. Hell, simply walking through this house had chased most of my fears away, but I closed my eyes and let my head fall back, ready to let Mother Nature finish the job.

“What are you doing?”

---