Chapter 4
Cade
The sound of her breathing stirs me from my rest – a slow, steady, peaceful doze, as she lays beside me, her arm tossed out over the bed, her head half-resting on my chest.
For the first moment I see her laying there, a part of me wants to let her sleep.
It’s the first time I’ve seen her without some kind of worry on her face since she got here, her hair falling into her eyes, her brow unfurrowed and her mouth soft.
I trace a finger across her cheek, drawing it along her soft skin, watching as the light dapples against her right there before me.
We spent the day together – and then, the night, too.
The dress that she asked me for help with is still sitting on the floor where I pulled it off her, and she hasn’t made a move to put it back on yet.
No, instead, she’s sprawled brazenly naked in front of me, her soft curves so tempting under the morning light that it’s hard for me to think of anything else but waking her up and. ..
She lets out a soft sigh, moving in a little closer to me, and some inch of reality begins to settle in to my mind. As much as it’s been addled by the sweetness of having her this close to me, I know I can’t let myself get used to it.
I can already imagine my sister’s comments on the matter, the way she’ll tease me about finding a wife just the same way my brother did – but she didn’t hear what Kim told me yesterday, how much she has left behind, and how much I would be keeping her from if I asked her to stay.
Slowly, gently, I ease myself out from underneath her, not wanting to wake her or explain why I’m in such a rush to get out of here.
It’s not that I want to be away from her – if anything, I want nothing more than to bury my nose into her hair and let myself feast on the scent of her.
It is so soft and feminine and delicate against my roughness.
But, if I let myself get attached, I might give her reason to turn her back on what she clearly cares so much about, and I don’t want to do something like that to her. To anyone, really.
I swing my legs out of bed as quietly as I can, reaching for my clothes where I tossed them aside on the floor. I can still remember, all too clearly, the way her hands felt on my bare skin, marking me like she’s painting me with a tattoo she doesn’t care to hide.
But I think back to the pride in her voice when she told me about her teaching, her education – and I know that, if she stayed here, she wouldn’t be able to pursue it.
This place is still in its nascent stages, and it’s a long way off from having the kind of system in place that would allow her to carry on where she left off.
Shit, there’s hardly so much as a school for the kids, let alone a place someone with her mind and abilities could keep them in check.
And God knows I’ve already lost enough as it is.
My brother, moving out, my mother, passing away.
It’s a miracle Lucy hasn’t taken off in search of something better, and it feels like only a matter of time before she does.
Kim said it herself, she’s not from this time, this place – she’s got a whole life out there, one that she clearly doesn’t want to be done with, at least, not yet.
Once I am dressed, I glance back towards her, where she’s still sleeping in bed. Her face looks almost beatific in this light, and a wrench in my chest almost orders me to go back to her, to pull her into my arms and forget anything I thought about walking away.
But I force myself to turn my back and make for the stairs, teeth gritted, mind made up.
It might not feel like the right thing, but I can tell it is.
I am not going to be the one to keep her here, not if she has a whole life, a whole career, a whole passion to return to.
Just because the other women who appeared in this place with no warning have found a home here doesn’t mean she will. ..
"Where are you going?”
I hear her voice, sleepy, calling out to me, and I stiffen on the spot. It takes everything I have not to just slide back in beside her and tell her that she’s got nothing to worry about. Yhat I was just going for some coffee but I’ll stay right here at her side if that’s what she wants.
I turn back to her, to find her propped up in the best, a slightly-confused expression on her face, brows knitted together.
"I need to go," I tell her, voice as neutral as I can keep it. She frowns.
"Why? Is there something you need to do, or-"
I shake my head. Realization dawns across her face, like it’s finally just hitting her what exactly I am getting at.
"Oh," she mutters, lowering her gaze. "Oh, I – I understand..."
She tugs the covers up over herself, doing her best to hide her body from me. She had been so free and easy with her nakedness last night, and to see her suddenly so reticent, so determined to hide herself away, makes my heart hurt.
I clench my fists at my sides, a part of me aching to go over and pull her into my arms.
"Kim-"
"You don’t need to explain," she replies, cutting me off, her tone a little brighter than it needs to be – as though she is attempting to paper over the cracks of something deep inside her, a pain she can’t put into words.
"I get it," she continues, as she reaches for the dress on the floor, pulling it towards her and pushing her arms through the sleeves. "I – it's not like I haven’t been through this before, I mean, I know that it doesn’t have to mean anything, I..."
She burbles away, almost as though she is just trying to fill the silence between us, but I wish she didn’t feel like she had to.
I want to tell her that it’s not what it looks like, that it’s not that she means so little to me that I am already done with her and uninterested in so much as laying eyes on her again.
Her face has drained of color, her body tense as her shoulders squeeze upward, and the pain of something that happened long before she ever met me is clearly playing in her head.
The pain of what that asshole did to her – the one who played around on her and broke her heart. And now, I can tell, that’s exactly how she sees me, too.
I think of making a case for myself, but it would only be an excuse to stay here with her a little longer. No, the kindest thing I can do for her right now is put as much distance between us as possible, and hope to God that she doesn’t let this get too far under her skin.
"I have to go," I tell her, voice low, and she smiles. It doesn’t reach her eyes, doesn’t even come close.
"Sure," she chirps out, her voice drawn tight with an artificial optimism. I hesitate, for one more moment, but then force myself to turn to the door, putting this behind me, uprooting the stakes she’s thrust into the earth. She deserves to be free. Not stuck here with me.
And just because a tug in my gut tells me to go back to her right now doesn’t mean I have to listen to it.