I didn’t struggle, I was doing pretty good at the silent treatment so I just stayed tense and used my body to communicate that all was not forgiven. The Silent Treatment/Cold Shoulder was a perfectly honed weapon in my arsenal and I was not afraid to use it.
Apropos of nothing, Lee told the back of my head, “The last time I remember feelin’ fear was during survival training. I thought if the good guys could think up that shit for training, what were the bad guys gonna do?”
Um.
Yikes!
It was apparently story time for bad little girls.
“Then I realized I might not be able to control what they were doing, but I could control my reaction. Fear breaks your focus, makes you lose control, makes you weak. It gives the enemy the edge. That was the last time I felt fear and the last time I lost control.”
I was still tense but now for a different reason, waiting to hear what he was going to say next.
“Tonight Ally called and told me you’d been taken. I left you there and they came to Tom’s f**king front door and grabbed you. When I heard that, I lost control.”
Holy shit.
What did that mean?
What was he saying?
Was he scared?
About me and the idea of maybe losing me?
Oh… my… God.
I waited for him to say more, to explain, but he didn’t.
So I waited some more.
Nothing.
“What does that mean, you lost control?” I whispered.
More nothing.
After awhile, his fingers brushed my hair aside and his lips touched my nape.
I let it go at that and listened to his steady breathing. I knew he wasn’t asleep and I also knew our talk was over. No way was Liam Nightingale going to admit, out loud, to being scared. That was as good as I was going to get.
And it was all I needed.
I let the tension go out of my body and settled into him, wriggling my bottom into his groin.
There was a time to hold a grudge, this wasn’t that time.
Chapter Twelve
I Did My Duty to the Pot
I woke up when I felt the sheet go down my hip and a hand go up it.
I turned bleary eyes to Lee, who was sitting, from what I could tell in the dawns early light, fully-clothed on the side of the bed.
“I need coffee,” I mumbled.
“You don’t have to get up, I’m just sayin’ good-bye,” he answered.