Page 17 of Chasing Secrets

Touching every nerve ending.

Letting me rememberbefore…

Beforewhen I’d been wrapped in Ford’s arms when we’d been naïve teenagers.

Beforewhen I’d still been a child, protected from an ugly world by a thin veil of innocence.

Beforewhen I’d still been…

When I’d stillbeen.

Been someone.

Something.

Anything.

I sighed and forced my internal pity party to shut the hell up.

I was warm. What the fuck did it matter how or why? I just wanted to enjoy it for as long as I could.

As long as I couldended up being about thirty seconds because I nearly jumped out of my skin when a muffled sound to my left broke through the thin wall between asleep and awake. I commanded my pained body to respond and bolted upright in bed so I could assess the threat.

The threat turned out to be nothing more than soft snores coming from the beautiful man who’d invaded my life… and my dreams.

Lincoln was sitting in an armchair that had clearly been designed for decoration and not for cradling the body of a large man.

God, hewasbig.

Of course, everyone seemed big to me these days.

I didn’t know why.

I forced myself to focus on the man who was within a dozen feet of me. He had his arm slung over the wooden arm of the chair and his head resting against the inside of his elbow. Strands of long, pretty golden hair covered most of his face. A few of the soft-looking locks were moving with every breath he took.

A delicious shiver went through me as I watched what little of his lips I could see skim his hair with every breath. I wondered which would feel softer against my skin.

How long had he been sitting in that uncomfortable chair watching me?

Watchingoverme?

I leaned back against the pillow so I could watch Lincoln sleep.

Watchoverhim, maybe?

It was when I began to pull the blanket higher up that I noticed the bandage on the back of my left hand.

Reality and memories collided, leaving pieces of me scattered everywhere like a fallen skyscraper.

I was still at Ford’s house.

I’d spent God only knew how many hours or even days in Lincoln’s bed as my body had fought off the infection my own recklessness had caused.

He knew.

Lincoln knew what had caused the cut on my arm.

Whohad caused it.

---