Chapter 20 Thomas
THOMAS
Hannah’s chest rises and falls slowly as she enters sleep.
I feel guilty for waking and confusing her, but as soon as I walked up the stairs and saw her fast asleep in the spot closest to the stairs, I knew I had to wake her.
Perhaps it's the caveman in me, but I brought her here to protect her, so I’m going to do my damndest to do that, and if that means making her sleep on the far end of the bed, then so be it.
I don’t want to admit that the minute she crawled into bed on the opposite side, relief flooded my entire body like a warm caress.
I let her fall into a deeper sleep with Arson at her side before I crawl into bed. She doesn’t even move as the bed shifts, letting me know that she’s out like a light.
Her soft snores are another indicator that she’s passed out.
That in itself is a relief. I could tell how tired she was, the deep purple circles under her eyes darkening with each passing minute.
I turn onto my side, and I wish so badly that I could pull her into my embrace, to hold her and know that she really is safe and in my arms, but I can’t do that.
I can’t cross the unsaid boundary I know she’s not ready for.
Sleeping in the same bed as her already has to be a big step for both of us.
I didn't think to offer and sleep on the couch, though thinking about it now it would've been a first line of defense, but all I could think about was not leaving her side.
Arson cuddles up in the middle of us, letting out a huff, like he’s content now that both of us are in bed with him. “Good boy,” I whisper, giving him a head scratch. Sleep takes me fast, my body too exhausted to consider fighting it.
A clatter wakes me from a deep sleep. I sit straight up in bed, hoping my brain catches up as I nearly fall out of bed.
The bed is empty to my right with no sign of Hannah, or Arson.
I rise to my feet, ignoring the stiffness in my muscles.
I reach for my gun from the side table, hoping I won’t need it, but thankful I have it.
“Shit,” a voice comes from downstairs, amidst another clatter.
The heavy weight on my chest eases as I recognize the voice. A soft woof sounds, and Hannah shushes him. “Shh, Arson. Your dad is still asleep.”
He woofs softly again, causing Hannah to shush him again. “I know you’re hungry, I am too, but I don’t know where your food is, and I don’t think bacon is good for you, buddy.”
He starts doing the thing he does when he’s really feeling dramatic. The only way I can describe it is howl-talking.
“Arson!” Hannah whisper-shouts. “You’re going to wake him up!”
I chuckle under my breath as I walk down the stairs. “It’s okay, freckles, I’m already awake.”
Hannah squeaks, clutching her palm to her chest. Arson bounds over to me, continuing his dramatic howling. “I know buddy, I’m sorry, I’ll get you some food.”
“I let him out when I woke up not long ago.”
“Thanks,” I reply and grab his bag of food from where I left it earlier in one of the closets, scooping him a bowl of food and placing it on the ground for him. He devours it ravenously.
“What time is it?” I ask, noting the pitch black outside.
“Three in the morning.” Hannah glances out the square window above the kitchen sink. “I woke up and figured I may as well make some food, I was starving. They left the kitchen fully stocked for us.”
“Wow,” I respond. “That’s nice of them.” I stride up behind her, taking the pan from her hands and setting it on the stovetop. I start the burner, noting the carton of eggs sitting on the counter.
“Are you hungry?” Hannah asks. “I can make some for you, too.”
“I can help.”
We work together in silence, me, cooking the bacon, her, grabbing some plates from the shelves and setting the table. She grabs juice, butter, bread, and fruit from the fridge, and cuts some of the fruit up for us.
I wasn’t hungry right away when I came down, but now that the food is cooking, I’m starving, my stomach growling. “How do you want your eggs?”
“Any way is fine,” Hannah replies, mindlessly buttering toast.
“Over-easy?”
“Yep.”
I make the eggs, grabbing the two plates from the table to plate them, and bring them, and the bacon over to the center of the table. We slept for just under twelve hours. Hannah sits down next to me at the table.
“How did you sleep?” I ask. There are so many things that we should talk about and discover more about each other, but I want to focus on right now.
“Fine,” she murmurs, pushing her eggs around her plate. “I slept really hard at first, but then was restless, so I came down here. I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“It’s okay, I really don’t mind.” I shovel some food into my mouth. “Arson can be annoying once he has something he wants.”
“He’s still cute, though,” Hannah responds, finally taking a bite of food.
“Last week, he yelled at me because I didn’t take him with me over to my brother’s house. He was pissed when I came home smelling like his dog, Travis.”
“How dare you,” Hannah says with a mock-gasp. “That is a huge betrayal.”
“You’d think I’d left him home alone for days. I was gone for maybe two hours.”
“Clearly, he loves his dad.” Hannah laughs softly.
“We’re a good team. I’ve had him since he was a puppy. We bonded instantly and went through the training program together.” I scratch the top of Arson’s head as he sits at my side, drool dripping from his mouth. “I love him. Even if he’s disgusting.”
“Ew,” Hannah mumbles, glancing at him.
“How are you holding up?” I ask, deciding to bite the bullet.
“I’m fine,” she replies, dropping her gaze back to her food.
I’ve been around enough women in my life to know that her saying she’s fine, means that she’s actually not.
“Hannah,” I state, reaching over to rest my hand atop her palm.
“I’m fine, Thomas, really.”
“I’m not,” I reply.
Her head snaps up, eyes meeting mine. “You’re not?”
“Of course not,” I say with a lackluster chuckle.
“I watched a friend get shot, was scared for your life and mine at the hands of a gunman who is part of a drug trafficking ring, had to give a statement to police, tell my family I’m going into hiding, and leave my life behind for an unknown length of time,” I finish with a heavy breath.
“I don’t think anyone would be fine after that, and it’s okay not to be. ”
“Right,” she mutters, using her fork to push her food around her plate. “I don’t know how to process this.”
I nod, hoping that if I stay quiet, she will continue.
“It all feels like a weird dream. I don’t know how to do this, Thomas. It’s all so much. Being in a fake relationship, being in hiding… How do we process it all? ”
“I don’t either, but we can work through it together, yeah?
We have a lot of time on our hands. We can work through this, get to know each other, and hopefully before we know it we will be back home.
” I reach across the table to rest my hand on top of hers.
She stiffens for a brief second, then relaxes into my touch, even turning her hand to grasp mine.
“I’m here for you, Han. I want you to tell me everything, even if you think it’s nothing.
And not only to keep you safe or be your friend in this situation, I want to get to know you, so that when we go home, we can pick up where things left off.
We might be pretending to be engaged, but that doesn’t mean that my feelings for you are pretend. ”
She inhales sharply, her blue eyes widening in shock. “You don’t have to say that,” she says. “We barely know each other, Thomas.”
“So? I still know that I have feelings for you, Hannah.”
“We’re just tired.”
I let out a soft sigh. I thought we were making progress, but now, it feels like we’re backtracking. I’ll just have to show her how real my feelings for her are instead. “Are you finished? We should get some more rest. I know I’m still tired.”
Hannah nods, silently standing from her chair to scrape her mostly uneaten plate into the trash.
I watch as she goes about tidying the kitchen, so I stand, helping her clean up.
We clean in silence, and I can feel the shift as Hannah shuts down.
I anticipated this, knowing how hard the last twenty-four-plus hours have been, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less.
After she wipes down the table for the third time, I know I have to put a stop to this. “Hannah, it’s clean. Let’s go to sleep.”
She looks up at me, and those blue eyes swirl with emotion. "Okay.”
“I’ll be right there the whole time. We’re safe.”
With an unconvincing nod, she hangs the wet washcloth over the sink and dries her hands.
I let out Arson one final time and when I look back, Hannah is already heading up the stairs.
My gaze travels down her delectable body, but I move my eyes from her ass, because even though it looks fucking amazing in those tiny sleep shorts, now is not the time to get an erection.
Arson and I follow her up the stairs, and I pull the sheets back on my side as she rounds to the other side. She climbs into the rumpled bed, lying on her right side and facing the wall. “Goodnight,” she whispers, and fuck she sounds so broken, so sad, that I don’t know what to do.
“Hannah,” I whisper, kneeling on the bed to lean forward and place my hand on her shoulder. “Talk to me. How can I help?”
She shakes her head. “I’m fine, Thomas. Really. I’m tired, that’s all.”
I don’t believe that for a second. She shifts so my hand falls off her shoulder. I can’t push this anymore. I lie down on my right side, pulling the sheets up over my body. I watch her, waiting for her breathing to even out so I know she’s asleep. Instead, sleep takes me first.