her head. “You said they’re fosters.”
“So I’ll keep one.”
“But it has to be the perfect dog. To replace me.” Her lips flutter over my cheek.
“There’s a lot of good dogs. Dogs are awesome. You should get a dog, too. Are you lonely, rosa?”
“I work a lot, and my friends come over.”
“What about Jace?” I try not to let my voice go too low on the question.
“He comes maybe twice a week. We watch TV. Sometimes he brings dinner.”
“That’s good.” I’m surprised to find I mean it. “Tell him I said hello.”
“I’m not telling Jace a damn thing.” She laughs. “He’d lose his mind.”
I nod slowly. I can’t be offended; it makes sense. I’d feel the same way if I were her gay fake fiancé.
“He’s just scared about me getting hurt.”
I lean on my arm, shifting so the sore spot on my back won’t hurt as much. “I understand.”
She kisses my jaw. “You want to watch E.T., or just keep talking?”
21
Elise
“Either way.” His voice is low and soft. He doesn’t look pained, but I wonder if that fresh scar he has is hurting—because he keeps shifting around, tensing sometimes when he moves.
“What’s the matter?”
“My back. But it’s fine.”
“Where does it hurt?”
He looks down.
“What happened? Can I ask that?”
“You can.” He gives me a strained smile.
“Can you tell me?”
He smiles tiredly again.
I need to find another way to ask my question—one that won’t incriminate him. “What made the wound?”
He bites on his lower lip, his dark brows gathering as if he’s thinking. “A bullet…filled with something acidic.”
Wow. Can that be legal? Of course not, I answer myself. “So it still hurts?”
“It’s okay.” He pats the pillow behind my back. “Relax. It’s an old TV, but I’ve got a remote in the nightstand.” He leans over, opening the drawer and plucking out a small, gray remote before I can offer to do it for him. When he leans back against the pillows, I rest my cheek against his chest, and he wraps a heavy arm around me.
He kisses my hair. “Love this smell.”
“It’s called Midnight Eden.”
“Midnight Eden…” He inhales. “I used to think it smelled like gold.”
I sniff his chest. “What’s your scent?”
“Soap. Shampoo. Maybe my shaving cream…which I should use tonight.”
“Don’t use it. I want you to leave me scruff-burned.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He kisses my hair. “Not even your skin.” He sounds tired, his voice dropping an octave.
“Are you sleepy?”
“No way. I’d never miss this.”
“So…that means you want me here?” I’m partway teasing, but his brows arch and his lips part, like he’s troubled. “That wasn’t the problem,” he says, somber.
“Oh, I know. I was just kidding.”
He takes a few hard, shallow breaths, as if he’s struggling to fill his lungs.
“You okay?”
He won’t look at me.
I stroke his cheeks and his eyes shut. “It’s…hard to be so close to you.”
I press my palm against his chest, below his throat.
“That feels good.” His lips curve.
I kiss his jaw, and then his collarbone through his shirt.
“I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for you,” I whisper. “With your father,” I add in a voice that quavers.
I can feel him swallow. “Don’t be sorry. It was my fault.”
“I just want to find a time machine and hold you.”
He’s carefully still as I trace my fingertips over his sculpted arms, along the lines of his chest. When he starts to pant again, I press my palm back under his throat.
“Who takes care of you? Does Isa?”
“Isa’s like a sister.”
“But you said she’s gone a lot.”
He smiles, strained. “I’m not like this when you’re not around,” he whispers.
“Is this a Sampson and Delilah situation?”
“No.” He runs a hand over my shoulder, looking heavy-lidded. “This feels good.”
I shift my focus to his hair, running my fingers through his dark locks, stroking his forehead as I do. He groans softly. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I want you to feel good tonight.”
He covers his face with one of his hands. I curl up against his chest and hug him. I don’t move for a long time, while he breathes in gusts and tears fall into my hair.
“Sorry,” he says thickly.
“Don’t be sorry.” I kiss his wet eyes. “Spend this night with me. Let’s make each other feel good. Then go home and get a dog.”
His hand cups my cheek. “What about you?”
“I work all the time.” I smile. “My dog would be lonely. I’ll get a fish.”
He hugs me.
“Thank you for protecting me. For watching out for me and all that.” I kiss his jaw. “I