Page 60 of Into the Woods

Oh, hell. Where had they gone?

A knock on the closed door almost gave me a heart attack.

“Becca? Hey, can I come in and grab some clothes really quick?” Court called, his deep timbre muffled by the door.

“No!” I shouted.

“Everything okay?” His tone took on a concerned edge. And then, because of freaking course, the doorknob jiggled ever so slightly, like he’d put his hand on it, preparing to breach the perimeter.

Which wasn’t the only perimeter I kinda wished he’d breach.

I slapped my forehead. Literally slapped it with an audible crack, like that would set my hindbrain back on a much safer path.

“Ow,” I yelped, rubbing the sore spot on my brow. I needed to remember that slapping sense into myself was a freaking metaphor.

“Are you okay?” The worry in Court’s voice ratcheted up another notch, and the elegant doorknob tipped down. “I’m coming in.”

“No, no! You can’t come in!” I flailed in a desperate lunge, trying to grab my pants from the bottom of the bed, but the damn sheets twisted around my waist and legs.

“What’s going on?” he demanded, but didn’t push the door open.

“I… I… uh…” I grabbed for the pants again, praising all the baby cherubs when my fingers touched flannel. I gave a quick jerk, but they were freaking stuck. “For real?” I huffed, pulling again with all my strength. It took a second, but they came free with a whoosh. The cuff of one leg—which was soft and fuzzy and comfortable—suddenly became a weapon as it slapped my open eye.

“Fuck, shit, damn!” I swore, dropping the pants and covering my eyes as tears instantly started welling. I was blind. I’d have to go to the doctor and explain that I'd lost my vision because of a freak flying flannel incident.

“What the fuck?”

I froze, realizing Court’s voice sounded way too clear to be on the other side of the door. Lowering my hands, I looked up at him from a single, watery eye.

Court stood a foot away from the bed, looking like he had no clue what to do next. His hands opened and closed at his sides while his gaze slid from my teary face to my very naked chest. He swallowed hard and slowly dragged his gaze back up to my face. The lust in his eyes was momentarily eclipsed by concern. “What the hell happened?”

“My pants attacked me,” I said, sounding utterly pathetic. “I think I’m blind.”

“You can’t see me?”

I blinked my open eye. “Partially blind,” I amended.

He stepped forward and halted. “Can I… I need to check your eye.”

“Sure,” I muttered, dropping my hands to the sheets pooled around my waist. I quickly yanked them up, situating them so my boobs were covered.

Court sat gingerly on the edge of the bed and twisted to face me. “Let me see.”

I took a shaky breath and tried to blink my injured eye open. The air hitting it burned, and I hissed out a breath.

“Easy,” he murmured, reaching for my face and holding it between his large hands. He leaned in, his gaze clinical as he searched my gaze. “Can you see me?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled. My left eye was throbbing, but I could see, so maybe I’d be spared that trip to the doctor.

The corner of his mouth tipped up, and I pressed my lips together to hold in any morning breath. While I looked like a recently reanimated zombie when I woke up, Court definitely didn’t.

The extra stubble shadowing his jaw gave him a killer bad-boy vibe. This close, I could see the gold flecks in his walnut-colored eyes. There was a small scar under his right brow that I didn’t remember. He smelled like warmth and cedar, and I wanted to snuggle into him like my favorite blanket.

“I think you’ll live,” he deduced with a soft smile, but he didn’t let me go. His calloused thumb gently wiped a tear from my cheek.

“Okay,” I whispered, not wanting to break whatever spell had woven itself around us. This moment was perfection, and I wanted to bottle it up and save it forever.

“Becca?”

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