Chapter 12
Tension thickened the air, and for long minutes, Raven had no idea what to say. What could she say? Connor was clearly unhappy that she wouldn’t tell him more, but she couldn’t.
When he parked and they walked into his house, she wanted to break the silence. She wanted to say something, anything, to make his visibly tense muscles loosen.
But when she decided to tell him just a little bit of what happened to her, when those words sat on the tip of her tongue, fear pulled them back. Fear that Xander would find out. That he’d carry out the threats he’d made against her.
She followed Connor into his bedroom, not thinking about the fact that she’d never been in here or that he might not want her in his space. She forced out the same two words again. “I’m sorry.”
He stopped at his bedside table and took off his watch. “I don’t want you to be sorry, Raven.”
“What do you want?”
“The truth.” He turned toward her, his jaw clenched so hard the veins in his neck popped out.
“I want to know what puts fear into your eyes every time your ex-fiancé is brought up. I want to know why Nathaniel told me you’re not who I think you are.
I want to know why your ex stole your money and has it out for you. ”
Her heart pounded in loud, hard thumps. “You think you’re not asking for much. But if I tell you, people could get hurt.”
His frown deepened. For a moment he just stood there, like he was weighing whether he could accept that answer. Whether she was worth the weight of her secrets.
Don’t give up on me. The whispered words were a plea in her head. She needed someone on her side.
He blinked and shot his gaze toward the bathroom door before running his fingers through his hair. “I’m going to shower.”
It wasn’t him disappearing into the bathroom that hurt the most. It was the click of the lock, yet she wasn’t quite sure why. Because it felt like he was shutting her out? Telling her, without saying the words, that he wanted all of her or none?
She swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to keep the tears at bay.
Why was she on the verge of crying? He wasn’t her boyfriend. If he decided he couldn’t cope with everything she wasn’t telling him, that was his choice. Just like keeping secrets was hers.
Maybe the weight of everything that had been added tonight was too heavy. The tracking device on her car, Nathaniel’s violence toward her.
She grabbed her stuff from the bedroom then went into the bathroom off the hall. She stayed under the stream of hot water for so long that thick fog filled the air and her fingers began to wrinkle. But that pit in her belly didn’t go away. It sat there like a stone.
God, she was tired of carrying it around. She was tired of feeling heavy and sad and angry all the time.
A tear tracked down her cheek. Then another. She let them fall, allowing them to mix with the water.
It felt good to cry. But it also didn’t. It felt like she was mourning something she didn’t quite understand. The relationship that could have existed between her and Connor? A future she’d likely never have with him?
Because that was what his silence tonight had meant, right? That he couldn’t handle her secrets. That he couldn’t be with her unless she gave him parts of her that she wasn’t capable of sharing.
Water hit her shoulders in a steady fall that should have drowned out her thoughts. They didn’t. Nothing probably could at the moment.
After what felt like forever, she turned off the shower and stepped out.
Using the towel, she wiped the mirror. God, she barely even recognized herself anymore. Her wet blonde locks were the same. But her eyes…they were red and swollen. Eyes that hadn’t quite felt her own in a long time.
Swallowing, she quickly dried before pulling on a sleep shirt.
In the hall, she hurried to her bedroom. The door closed with a thud, and she leaned her temple against it, glad she hadn’t run into Connor.
When she turned, a plate of food sat on the bedside table.
Of course he’d made her food. Because he was a good guy. And good guys made sure people staying in their home ate, even if they were angry.
She sat beside the bed and tried to have some of the soup. It was good. Really good. But two spoons in and she couldn’t stomach any more. She couldn’t even touch the toast.
It was probably too early to sleep. Still, she turned off the lights and crawled between the sheets anyway.
Then she just lay there.
One hour passed. Then another.
Minutes ran into each other, and in those minutes, she tossed and turned, rolling from one side to the other.
Sleep wasn’t coming. Great.
She tapped the screen of her phone.
One a.m. So, basically, the middle of the night.
She shoved off the sheets and climbed out of bed. Before leaving the room, she grabbed the almost full bowl of soup with the untouched toast and took them with her into the hall.
At the bottom of the stairs, she turned toward the kitchen. Her gaze was down, and when she stepped into the kitchen, she almost walked straight into a large, looming figure. One gasp, and soup splattered all over his crisp white shirt.
Connor filled a glass with water. He couldn’t sleep. It was the middle of the damn night, and he hadn’t gotten a single fucking minute of rest.
He downed the entire glass before setting it in the sink. He hated how things had ended with Raven. He’d wanted to talk to her before going to bed, but she’d been in the shower when he’d taken her dinner, then she hadn’t left her room.
He was a dick. Yes, he needed to know what she was hiding, for her safety and his heart, but it was her choice if and when she told him.
He scrubbed his hands over his face.
Maybe TV would help. Some mind-numbing documentary that would put him to sleep.
He was just straightening when he heard it—soft footsteps on the stairs.
He headed out of the kitchen. Raven’s head was down though, and by the time she looked up, she jumped so violently the bowl surged forward, flinging soup on his shirt.
She gasped. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. Look at you. Oh, Jesus.”
He grabbed the back of his shirt and tugged it over his head before moving into the laundry room and dropping it into the sink.
When he returned, Raven was still standing in exactly the same place. He took the bowl from her fingers. “You didn’t like it?”
“I wasn’t hungry.” Her soft voice weaved itself beneath his skin.
“Not tired either?”
“No. I couldn’t sleep. But looks like I wasn’t the only one.”
Nope.
Once the bowl was in the dishwasher, he took her hand. “Come on.”
“What are you…”
He lowered to the sofa and patted the spot beside him. “Sit.”
She frowned but sat.
“When I was in the military, I couldn’t sleep after missions. I’d lie there for hours, sometimes going entire nights without sleeping. Then I discovered the power of nature documentaries.”
Her brows lifted. “Nature documentaries?”
“They’re magic for insomnia.” He chose his favorite Planet Earth documentary and hit play. “This guy’s voice will have you sleeping within the hour.”
“The ocean.” It wasn’t a question from Raven, but he answered it like it was.
“Yeah. I find the ocean fascinating. It’s another world down there, one we’ve barely even begun to explore.”
Her brows flickered and she looked at him like she was seeing a new side of him. “I learn new things about you every day.”
“Good things?”
“Depends how magic this episode is.”
He chuckled and grabbed a blanket, laying it over their laps.
Raven settled into the sofa, her side almost touching him as she leaned her head back, eyes on the TV. But he found his gaze returning to her far too often over the next half hour.
Fuck, this wasn’t going to work. Not for him at least.
“I’m sorry.” The two words slipped from his throat into the air.
She looked at him. “What?”
“I keep telling myself not to rush you. Whatever happened between you and your ex scared you. You don’t feel safe with me yet and that’s okay.”
“It’s not about feeling safe with you. I do. It’s about feeling unsafe with the truth being out there in the world.”
He studied her eyes. The most beautiful ocean-blue eyes he’d ever seen. “That photo you found of me and the woman in the photobooth? It was me and my ex.”
“I figured.”
“Things ended badly. Really fucking badly. And that was because of secrets she kept from me. Secrets that hurt me in more ways than you could imagine.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry.”
“I loved her. Or at least, I thought I did. But she burned me. She burned me so fucking badly I wasn’t sure I’d ever be the same again.”
“I don’t want you getting hurt in any of this, Connor.”
He believed her. But he was also sure his ex hadn’t meant to hurt him.
“Sometimes I wish…”
He reached out and pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. “You wish what?”
“I wish you’d met me before. I didn’t used to be like this. I was happy. Maybe slightly irresponsible and rebellious. I swore I turned my father gray way before his time. But I was happy.”
“Maybe you will be again.”
“I hope so.”
Their gazes held for another few seconds before she shifted her attention back to the TV. And he felt that loss immediately.
“You’re right,” she whispered. “This is relaxing.”
He tried to concentrate on the documentary. Fuck, he tried. But at some point, Raven’s eyes shuttered and her head dropped to the side to rest on his shoulder. Then her body was leaning against his.
That was what made the tightness leave his shoulders. One touch from her and he could finally relax.
He slid an arm around her and just held her.
A hum slipped from her chest, and the sound allowed his own eyes to close.
He wasn’t sure he’d sleep. Honestly, he kind of hoped he didn’t.
Because this, holding her, without the need to focus on the secrets that sat between them, felt good. Really fucking good.