18. Halliday
18
HALLIDAY
“It’s ready,” Sterling calls as he walks out of the bathroom, a billow of lavender scented steam following him.
I look up from where I’m perched on the end of his bed.
“You can make yourself at home,” he says, frowning at the unpacked bag by my feet.
He sent Denver over to collect some of my things for me that Sinclair kindly packed.
“Get in the bath, it’ll help with the aches.” Sterling stops in front of me.
I let my lower lip go from where I’m biting it. “Thank you.” My gaze tracks around the bedroom. “Isn’t there a guest bathroom I should be using?”
“Mine has the deepest tub.” He takes my hand and helps me to my feet. “And my room is the only one that has a bed and a couch.”
I look past him at the giant velvet couch against the wall.
“You’re not sleeping in another room, Hallie. I need to know you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.” I sigh. “But you’re going to watch me like a hawk for the next twenty-four hours anyway, aren’t you?
“You’re a fast learner.” He winks at me before leading me to the bathroom, stopping at the door to let me enter first.
The tub is filled with bubbles, and the room is bathed in a soft light from multiple lit candles placed on every available surface.
“Take your time.” His warm breath flows over the back of my neck, making me shiver before he closes the door with a soft click and leaves me alone.
I stare around the room, taking in the floor-to-ceiling windows with views over the city.
Something tightens in my chest, and I push it as far down as I can as I strip off my clothes and sink into the heavenly water. It comes up to my neck and every tightly coiled muscle in my body slowly starts to unravel as I soak.
This feels so normal. Like I belong here. With Sterling. In his apartment. In his bed. But there’s too much at stake if I let myself dream like that.
I lose track of time, finally stepping from the tub once the water has cooled. I reach for a towel on the rack to dry myself, but stall as I spot the familiar fabric of my pajamas hanging amongst the white fluffy towels. Sterling must have placed them here when he was getting the bath ready, making sure they’d be warm for me to put on.
After dressing, I walk to the twin basins, assessing the bandage on my head in the mirror. It looks a lot worse than it is. The doctor said I could take the dressing off tomorrow. I reach up and unwind it. What’s a few hours? Like I keep telling everyone, I’m fine.
Running my fingers through my hair, I inspect the lump. It’s smaller than when we left the hospital, even though my head is still tender.
I try to keep my attention away from Sterling’s things. But my gaze keeps tracking back to his electric toothbrush and the bottle of aftershave and other grooming products on the marble counter.
I pick up the aftershave and take the lid off. The scent has my core clenching immediately. That familiar warm, woody spice that’s totally him. I shove the lid on and place the bottle down. What am I doing? In a couple more days I’ll be leaving. I’m not helping anyone by losing my head to my emotions.
I blow out the candles and head into the bedroom, spotting a sweater on the bed. I run my fingers over the soft fabric with a Statue of Liberty print on the front of it.
“I figured you might want something comfortable.”
I turn.
Sterling’s leaning against the doorframe watching me. He’s wearing suit pants and a light blue shirt with a couple of buttons undone at the neck. The only time I’ve seen him without a suit and tie is when I walked in on his exercise session with Sullivan and Mal.
The day I saw the corded muscles rippling in his broad back.
“Thank you.” I lift the sweater off the bed.
We hold each other’s eyes for a beat before he straightens up. “You need to eat.”
I pull the sweater on, trying not to notice that it smells like him even though it’s brand-new. It’s probably because it’s been amongst his things and lying on his bed. The bed I have to sleep in tonight.
I head into the kitchen, and Sterling sets a bowl of soup and a plate of warm bread in front of me as I climb up onto a stool at the giant granite island.
“Where did you get this? It smells amazing.” I breathe in the comforting scent of chicken soup, like Jenny and I would have as kids when we were sick.
“I made it.” He sits next to me where there’s another place set, looking at me pointedly when I don’t move. “I’ll feed it you myself if you don’t start eating.”
“Sorry.” I pull my eyes away from his soft smile and pick up my spoon.
It’s delicious, and soon, I’ve finished the entire bowl.
“You’re tired. You need rest.” Sterling studies my face, looking at the lump on my head that’s no longer covered by the bandage.
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to pretend with me, Hallie.”
I hold back my wince at the dull ache that’s been building in my head since I got out of the bath.
“Maybe I’ll go and lie down,” I murmur.
He abandons the bowls and follows me to his bedroom like he’s concerned that taking his eyes off me for a second could have catastrophic consequences.
He pulls back the thick throw on his bed and watches me as I take off the sweater and climb in.
“I’ll get you some water.”
“Thank you.”
The covers have barely been laid over me before my eyelids grow heavy and his retreating footsteps are just echoes.
I wake into near darkness, and it takes a minute for my eyes to adjust. The only light is from the glow of the city through a gap in the blackout shades.
Sterling’s sleeping on the sofa, both hands resting on his stomach as he takes soft, rhythmic breaths. I can make out the hoodie and sweatpants he’s wearing. The thin blanket that was covering him has slipped to the floor.
Pushing the covers back, I slide out of bed and look around for the Statue of Liberty sweatshirt, but don’t see it. If I put another layer on, Sterling can have the throw from the bed. It’s not fair that he gets cold and has to sleep fully clothed because I’ve stolen his bed.
I tiptoe to the other side of the room and rummage through the bag Sinclair packed for me, looking for something I can put on over my pajamas. My hand brushes something hard and I grab my phone from the nightstand, using the light on it to see as I take the object out.
Jenny’s giant smile radiates through the glass, and my throat thickens. I glance over at Sterling, sleeping. Sinclair’s never noticed this photo before. Why would she? It’s always facing out of my window.
I swallow, recalling the hushed tone Sterling used to speak to Denver while he was waiting for Sinclair at my apartment.
This man…
I clutch the frame to my chest and screw my stinging eyes shut. He deserves more, just like Sinclair said. He deserves it all.
“And you really think I’m the one to give it to him, don’t you?” I whisper, partly to Jenny, partly to the universe.
I walk to the window, setting the frame down, facing it toward the city. My steps are gentle as I return to the bed and lift the thick comforter off. I carry it to the wide couch and drape it over Sterling.
Then I lift one side and slide underneath it, beside him.
“Hallie?” The gentle rasp of his sleepy voice has me inching closer, and he lifts his arm, welcoming me into his side like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Is your head hurting, Baby girl?”
“No.” I place my head over his chest and listen to the steady thump of his heart as I sink into his warm embrace.
“Good,” he murmurs, his lips dusting my forehead in a tender kiss.
I squeeze my eyes shut and wrap myself around him, relishing every inch of where our bodies melt into one another.
I can’t tell him it’s my heart that hurts. Not my head.
The heart that wishes and prays that I didn’t have to leave.
I thought I was coming here to help him. That he was the one who had to learn how to open himself up. What if it was actually me who needed his help? Only in accepting it, I’ve made everything more complicated.
And those complications mean one thing.
Someone will get hurt.