to let it go for five years. Why would I let the memories take over my life now?
Why would I let them threaten my present and my future?
Because he’s closer. And if he sees me again, he might drag me back to that house.
“Didn’t I suggest that before we fell asleep?” Wes says closing his eyes. “You didn’t want to count either.”
I did it—in my head. It was embarrassing enough to hold on to the teddy bear that Will brought me the day after my first night with them. I’m twenty-three and still hugging a bear like a toddler and needing the lights on to keep the monsters away.
As I unwrap my granola bar, I shrug. “It’s been almost a year since I slept with the lights on. I only use my nightlights.”
Will gifted me a set of nightlights for my twenty-second birthday. They’re shaped like princess crowns. He always said that I was their princess. Like his son, he worked hard to make sure I felt safe. He was an amazing man and father figure.
“Tomorrow we’ll make sure they’re on.” Wes climbs on my bed and takes my free hand, counting my fingers from one to five several times.
“Why are you so good to me, Wes Ahern?”
“Just because …” he shrugs and kisses my hand.
Sometimes, I wish things between us were different. There are nights when I pretend I’m someone else and that we’re together. I close my eyes, and for a brief moment, I imagine his arms around me—his lips on my mouth kissing me senseless until I forget every bad thing that’s happened to me.
Some days I wonder what it would be like to kiss him, to be touched with the tenderness that I imagine he’s capable of.
He wouldn’t hurt me.
He’d love me.
Wouldn’t he?
But how could that be when he’s so perfect, and I’m … me.
“You should go home,” I say getting out of the bed, trying to keep my distance from him. “Get some sleep.”
“That’s it? You’re going to give up and stop sleeping? Next thing you know you’ll be sporting dark circles under those pretty eyes.”
“There’s always concealer,” I wink at him.
He jumps out of the bed and takes me in his arms. Wes kisses the top of my head and rocks me from side to side. I want to push him away and ask for more all at the same time. This man is my best friend in the world. He’s understanding, tender, and protective. And, with his dark blue eyes, jet black hair, his hawkish nose and that concrete jaw, I can’t help but be attracted to him.
I’m enamored with his prince charming charisma and his protective heart.
Every time he’s around, I pretend not to feel anything for him. Like right now, while he holds me. My barely covered breasts press against his soft, warm, sculpted torso. I can feel his muscular ridges. I itch to trace every line, kiss every inch of him. It’s these moments when my blood roars through my veins, awakening the woman inside me.
What would it be like to be reckless and just kiss his bare skin?
“I wish, …” I mumble closing my eyes.
“What do you wish?”
I wish I could kiss you. I want to feel your lips on my skin and your hands sliding down my body.
“Nothing,” I say sobering up from the fantasy.
He’s the only guy I’ve been attracted to. No other man holds a candle to him. Maybe it’s just gratitude toward him and there aren’t any real feelings.
I try to fight his hold. This shouldn’t be happening. Nothing can ever happen between the two of us. If only I weren’t so messed up. My legs shake as my heartbeat accelerates. I bite the inside of my cheek hard to stop myself from having an anxiety attack, stopping only when I taste copper in my saliva.
My body, my mind, and my mouth are about to betray me. At least one of them is ready to take a leap of faith and kiss him or tell him how I feel.
I huff, annoyed at my stupidity and myself. Without saying a word, I walk away from him, deciding that another shower is in order. I enter the bathroom and lock the door behind me.
“Abby, let’s talk,” he knocks on the door.
“Go back home, Wes,” I encourage him to leave me. “I have to unpack the boxes, and you need to rest.”
“Do you think I can go back to sleep knowing you’re having an anxiety attack?”
“I’m not having