His chin dropped in a grim nod.
Relief filled my lungs, and now all the feelings I had for him didn’t feel so scary. I wasn’t the only one trying to find my footing.
I shoved my arms into the new clean cover inside out, grabbed the edges of the duvet, and pulled it through, covering the whole thing in one solid shake.
“How the hell did you do that?”
“Magic.” I wiggled my fingers with my arms wrapped around the bulky material. “It’s also kind of my job. The hot chocolate will get cold. Why don’t you have some?”
He walked around me and picked up the mug from the bedside table. “And you’re sharing your snacks with me?”
“I thought you could use it more than I could.” I finished with the duvet and grabbed the pillows.
“You really don’t have to do that.”
I peered over my shoulder. “I know, but it needed to be done.”
He set down his mug and helped me with the pillows before walking me over to the seating area where he’d set up the food and drinks.
The chairs were so big I felt like I was a human-sized cat ready to curl up. Instead I picked up my mug and sipped from it, not sure where to look. The stilted silence made it hard to swallow.
Hunter drained his mug.
“I’ll get you another cup.” I set mine down, relieved for an escape. In the kitchen I tried to come up with a game plan. He didn’t seem like he wanted to talk, but it didn’t seem like what he’d had tonight was a run-of-the-mill nightmare. He’d been so scared, holding on so tightly and not wanting to let go. Was that how he woke most nights?
When I walked back in, I handed him the mug, but Hunter’s hand hooked around my wrist before sliding to my waist, not letting me return to my chair.
Instead he pulled me down onto his lap and set down his drink.
I squirmed, trying to brace my weight on my legs.
Not letting me, he swung my thighs over his lap so I was fully seated on him. “Stop moving.”
“Let me sit in my own seat then.” I twisted, pulling away.
“You don’t want to sit with me.” His arms loosened from around my waist. He was giving me my opening to hop up and sit in my own seat. But the phrase felt like it held more meaning than sitting on his lap. Suddenly I was torn between my insecurities and what he seemed to need to feel better.
I looped my arms around his neck. “Of course I do. But you need to tell me when I get too heavy.”
“Never.” His arm wrapped back around me, and he grabbed my mug, handing it to me before he took his own.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I sipped from my hot now-lukewarm chocolate.
His head dropped against the back of the chair. “I guess that was inevitable, huh?”
“You know how much I love to get under your skin.” I poked a finger into the center of his chest. The soft cotton was warm and dry. I rested my hand against him, letting his heart beat against my palm. “How long have you had the nightmares?”
“A few months.” He took a gulp from his steaming mug and winced.
“What are they about?”
His muscles tightened under me. He stared out the window beside us. The seconds ticked by with nothing more than the twin sounds of our breaths and my heartbeat whooshing in my ears.
Taking a breath, I prepared to change the subject.
“Losing everyone I’ve ever cared about.”
I set down my mug, feeling like my chest was being cracked open.
He’d dealt with a lot of loss already. My parents were still alive and healthy. My grandparents on both sides had died before I could remember. I’d never lost anyone else close to me. “These are new nightmares?”
He nodded. Damp strands of hair clung to the side of his face. “New now.” His fingers tapped against the sides of his mug. “I’ve had them before.” His head dipped, and his jaw muscles clenched. “When my mom died.”
“And the new round started when your dad died?”
His body stiffened. “This has nothing to do with him. He just happened to die around the same date she did.”
I opened my mouth and snapped it shut. Tonight wasn’t the night to push it. “Do you have the nightmares every night?”
Another grim nod. He picked up one of the chocolate chip cookie bars and split it in two, handing me half. “Every night.”
Taking a bite, I gave myself some time to find out more without pushing him too hard. “How are you getting any sleep?”
He tilted his chin, eyes boring into mine.
“Ah, you’re not.” I took another bite. “That explains the Mr. Grumpy Pants routine.”
“When have I ever been Mr. Grumpy Pants?”
I leveled my gaze at him, wanting to inject a little playfulness into the night. A little less heaviness.
His gaze darted away, and he took a bite of his cookie. “Maybe a little.” He grumbled with a half laugh, half huff.
Leaning against his chest, I sank into the cradle of his arm, and we stared out at the soft glow on the horizon. “You should call out of work today.”
He set his mug down and scrubbed a hand down his face. “There’s so much work to get done and less than four weeks to make it all happen. And after last night, I need to find a new supplier.”
My stomach plummeted. Guilt gnawed at me. “I’m sorry.”
His hands tightened on my hip. “I wasn’t blaming you. I was blaming myself for signing with him in the first place.”
“But now you’ve got a mountain more work do to. I know how much the concert means to you.”
“I’d do it again without a single regret.” His words were fierce and sharp.
My heart leaped before I leashed it again and pulled it back to Earth. There was no need to get ahead of myself. It was one night. A night he needed someone and it would probably mean nothing, but I could be here for him tonight.
I believed him, but now it was my turn to take care of him. I set down my mug and stood.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re going to bed.”
29
Hunter
“Sabrina…” As much as I wanted her with me… as much as I needed her with me…
“It’s okay.” She held her hand out to me.
My throat tightened, Adam’s apple bobbing with an iron strike of panic. I stared at her outstretched hand, wanting to take it and curl up behind her with my arms wrapped tight around her chest and my nose buried in her hair, but I couldn’t. “I don’t want to freak out with you beside me.”
“I’m tough. I can handle it.” She let her hand fall and turned, pulling the shades down, blocking out the sun slowly emerging through the three windows beside our chairs.
I cleared my throat. “Sabrina…”
“Don’t even try it. I’m here, so you’re going to have to deal with it.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me forward out of the chair.
Without another word, I let her lead, walking on stilted, numb legs. My body was stiff, and I was teetering on the edge of a full-on freak out.
She pushed back the freshly made sheets and scooted into the bed, never breaking eye contact, like she was afraid I’d bolt into the bathroom again and lock the door. The thought had entered my mind.