her wrists, the foot propped on the pillow, guilt eating at him.
Baine caught the elevator door, holding it open. “Hey,” he said, eyes concerned. “You okay?”
He was a long shot away from okay—the sight of Stef pinned against the wall, her fucking ex with his hands on her, had brought back the nightmares he’d thought long gone. He’d hardly slept, dreaming of his father being dragged out of the car, blood soaking the street, of his mother taking her final rattling breath, of what might have happened to Stef if he’d been delayed, if he hadn’t left work early because he was so anxious to see her.
Broken and bleeding, a final rattling breath.
He shuddered. Not okay.
Definitely not okay.
But he’d eventually be, if only for the woman who held his heart in her palm. Effortlessly caught and grasped tight, and he didn’t give a shit that he’d been snared.
“No,” he said, when Baine made to step off the elevator, despite the cackling rising in volume behind them. “I’m not okay,” he admitted. “But I’ll get there.”
Baine studied him closely, his hand still on the elevator door.
“Ben? Are you all right?” Stef’s soft voice trailed through the air, and Ben watched Baine’s face gentle, even as he was already turning to face her.
A clap on his shoulder had him glancing back.
Baine nodded, stepped back and released him. “Yes,” he said. “You will.”
It was much later that the apartment was empty of everyone save the dogs, Fred curled up next to the couch, Sweetheart on Stef’s lap, her fingers running through the soft, white fur.
Still, he couldn’t imagine how the fuck she’d tamed the beast that Sweetheart had been—except that she’d tamed him, too . . . or perhaps, she’d soothed him.
Just like she’d soothed the jagged edges of Sweetheart missing his mom.
He sat on one end of the couch, Stef’s head on his thigh.
And just as she ran her fingers through Sweetheart’s fur, he stroked lightly through the locks of her hair, slowly undoing the braid she’d said was hurting her scalp.
“Is your ankle bothering you? Do you need your pain medicine?” he asked once it was out and the tangles were loosened, his voice soft, not wanting to break her relaxed state.
“No,” she murmured.
He went back to stroking, memorizing the lines of her face, and for long minutes, neither of them spoke.
“I was going to cook for you,” she whispered, and he blinked, pulling himself from the very quiet place he’d drifted into, calmed by her presence, thankful and happy to just be here, that she was safe and happy.
“What were you going to cook?” he asked.
“The one thing I can make that isn’t breakfast. It’s nothing fancy, a chicken and rice soup with vegetables. I’d just . . .” She swallowed. “I’d just needed to put the rice in it when I got there and . . .”
Quiet again.
He continued moving his fingers through her hair, not changing the rhythm, soothing her until she found her words again.
“Anyway, I’d wanted to cook for you because I’d finally realized you weren’t like them—no, I’d always known you weren’t like them. I was just too scared to let you in because . . .”
He’d gone stiff, fingers stilling, but forced himself to relax, to breathe, to resume his stroking.
“Because no one around me has ever really cared about me. Not my parents. Not my brother. Not anyone I dated.” Her tongue darted out, danced across her bottom lip. “Not until I met Heidi, and she introduced me to the girls and . . . even then, I didn’t believe it.”
He inhaled.
She sat up carefully, putting Sweetheart on the floor. The dog grumbled at being displaced but curled up next to Fred and closed her eyes. Stef’s face was soft as she shifted and studied Ben’s face. “And then you came into my life, rather auspiciously.” She smiled and touched his cheek, so gently, her brown eyes blazing with love. For him. “You showed me what it was like to have someone care for me. Showed and showed me until I actually started to believe it. Until it propelled me to look into myself and realize that I was worth someone’s love.”
“Stef,” he whispered, his heart breaking for her, breaking and reforming. For her.
“You didn’t press me to tell you why I held back,” she said. “You just showed me that you’d take me as I was, that every day you would be there when you promised you would.” Her voice dropped until