but we’re so far apart. It’s as though we exist on different sides of the world. Fire and ice. Except for in this one precious moment.
I miss this. I miss him. I miss sneaking through his bedroom door and sliding into his warm arms. I miss his chest pressing up against my back and his arm curling around my waist, holding me tight and making me feel as though nothing could ever break me. With Carver, I’m safe. With Carver, I have it all, but without him, I’m lost.
I raise my head and meet his eyes. “Why can’t we make this work?”
“You know why,” he murmurs, his hand so gentle on my waist with his thumb rubbing back and forth over my hospital gown.
I let out a sigh and drop my head back to his strong chest, knowing that in his arms, nothing could go wrong. Nothing ever goes wrong when I have him beside me, you know, except for all the times that it does.
“I shot you,” he tells me, his voice far away and filled with agony, making me raise my gaze to meet his once again. “No matter what happens between us, no matter how desperately I want to make you mine, I can’t. Not now. You’re not safe with me.”
“You see, that’s just the thing,” I tell him, “with you, I feel safer than I’ve ever felt before. I don’t want you to pull away from me any more than what you already have.”
“I’m sorry, Winter, but I can’t. Look how much I’ve already hurt you. When you’re around me, I’m off my game. All I can think about is keeping you safe, and then when the time comes, I fuck it up. You almost died today because my head wasn’t in the fucking game. That’s on me.”
I shake my head, letting the tears fall from my eyes. “I don’t see it that way.”
Carver presses his lips into a tight line and slips his hand around the side of my face, his thumb brushing over my cheek as his fingers curl around the back of my neck. His thumb wipes away the tears and I instantly lean into his touch. “There’s no other way to see it, Winter. I’m not good for you. Stick with the boys. They’ll treat you right and give you everything that I can’t.”
“You know,” I whisper, raising my chin just an inch and putting my face right in front of his, “self-loathing doesn’t suit you.”
“Well, that’s too bad, because something tells me that it’ll be sticking around for a while.”
“I don’t want you racked with guilt over this,” I demand, my tone becoming more insistent. “It was an accident. Even heroes make mistakes.”
Carver lets out a sigh and drops his forehead to rest against mine. “That’s where you have it wrong,” he murmurs, his fingers tightening on the back of my neck. “I’m no hero.”
I bring my hand up and curl it around the back of his neck as best I can, refusing to allow him to pull away, because let’s face it; this is Carver, and that’s his favorite move. “You are to me,” I whisper, raising my chin just a little more so that as I talk, my lips gently brush against his like butterfly wings softly moving over the petal of a beautiful flower. “You’ve always been my hero, even when I can’t stand to be in the same room as you. Right from the beginning, you’ve been there saving my ass time and time again. Every day that I get to wake up and see your face is another day that you and the boys have blessed me with. If it weren’t for the four of you, I would have been dead and buried a long time ago, and I’m going to remind you of that every single day until you can finally see what I see.”
“And what’s that?”
“That you, Dante Carver, are the most frustrating, obnoxious, and arrogant asshole that I have ever met, but you’re also the most loyal, strong, and extraordinary man that I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. You would lay your life down for me, and I see that every time I look at you.”
“That’s a nice picture you’re painting, but that’s not me. I’m a killer. These hands have killed more men than you can count. They nearly killed you.”
“Don’t try and tell me that I’m wrong, Carver,” I say, moving in just a little closer so our lips touch