Page 113 of Rebel Revenge

Vaughn pushed to his feet and stalked across the other side of the room, leaning on the wall. He rubbed at his forehead, eyes all squinty like he was developing a headache. “Fuck. You’re right. I’m being a paranoid prick.” His gaze met mine. “Sorry for implying your mom wasn’t being faithful. That was a dick move.” He dropped his gaze to the floor. “I don’t know why I’m like this. I can’t just fucking trust people. I always assume the worst. I hate that I do that.”

I bit my lip. The man looked miserable. I hated that. I knew all too well how bad it felt and I couldn’t handle watching anyone else go through it without trying to help. It was why I’d always been there for my mom, when any other sane person would have given up and left her to lie in the bed she’d made for herself. “Vaughn.”

“Yeah?”

“At the risk of potentially becoming friends, can I hug you?”

He cocked his head to one side. “What on earth for?”

“Has anyone even hugged you since your dad died? I saw your stepdad consoling your mom. Your wife isn’t here. You and Kian have some weird history thing going on where you can barely be in the same room as each other. I just thought maybe you needed a hug.”

“You’re tiny. Your hugs are probably the equivalent of a mouse trying to hug an elephant.”

My mouth dropped open at the audacity. “I’ll have you know I give BEAR hugs, Vaughn. Big, grizzly, king-of-the-wilderness type of hugs. I’ll show you.”

I strode toward him, arms out.

He dodged. “No, thanks.”

I kept going. “No, you definitely want a hug. I can see it in your eyes.”

He shook his head, but a smile was pulling at the edges of his mouth. “No. I definitely do not.”

“Let me hug you, Vaughn.”

“Get away from me, Roach. I don’t hug.” He edged his way around the room like I was a wild animal ready to strike at any moment, keeping the bed between us.

But he’d lied. He’d hugged me in the courthouse after my mom had died. I was sure he needed the favor returned right now. “You will take my cuddles and love them!” I launched onto the bed and ran across it, jumping off on his side and cutting off his path of escape.

I wrapped my arms around his middle and squeezed him tight.

He held his arms out at the sides, stiff and uncomfortable. “What is happening right now?”

“It’s called affection, Vaughn. Learn to like it.”

Slowly, the stiffness went out of him, and his arms came tentatively around me.

I grinned triumphantly into his chest. “See? Not so bad, is it?”

“You’re a pipsqueak.”

“Maybe so, but my hugs are good.”

He mumbled something.

“What was that?” I teased. “Did I hear you say ‘You’re so warm and cuddly, Rebel. I do indeed declare you the Saint View Snuggler!’”

“That’s not a thing,” he grumbled.

I laughed.

But I did notice neither of us let go and this hug was dragging on a long time. His arms were strong around me. His heat radiated into me, warming my chilled limbs.

Slowly, moment by moment, something changed in the air between us. I became all too aware of just how hard his chest and abs were. How despite our height difference, we fit perfectly together. How I’d been fighting an attraction to him since the moment I’d met him.

“What did you actually say?” I whispered.

His thumb stroked across the back of my neck in a way that was well beyond friendly. “I said I was glad you weren’t flinching away from me anymore. You know, after your attack…”

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