Page 93 of Fierce

Except that he did end up doing just that. He was back in the room again an hour later, climbing into bed beside me. I reached for the remote, and he said, “Nah. Watch till the end.”

He actually smiled at the funny parts, and watched the happy ending with me, and didn’t say anything about it. But then, neither did I. I just turned the TV off and did my best to get comfortable, stuffing a pillow under my stomach and not caring too much that I wasn’t exactly appearing irresistible.

The third time I shifted position, Hemi said, “Hurts, eh.”

“Just achy, that’s all.” I shifted again. “My belly and my lower back.”

“What d’you need? What would help?”

“A heating pad, but I don’t have one.”

“Mm.” I was turned away from him, my knees drawn up, and he snuggled up behind me, pressed himself against my back, and laid a gentle hand over my belly. “Better?”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “Better.”

The warmth of his big body was so soothing, his touch so comforting. And just for tonight, I decided, I’d let myself believe in that comfort. I’d pretend that the security I felt in his arms was real. Just for tonight.

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