Chapter Three
Eric
One second the stairwell was empty. The next, she was there, plowing into me with the force of someone twice her size.
I caught her on instinct, hands closing around her upper arms before she could bounce off me and keep running. The contact sent something primitive surging through me.
“Easy now. I’ve got you.”
She looked up, her watery gaze catching mine, her face a mess of tears and torment. And still, she was the most breathtaking creature I’d ever fucking seen.
“Jamie.” My chest tightened. “What happened?”
Whatever was holding her together snapped.
The sound she made gutted me. Raw and unfiltered, like something torn loose that had been under pressure for too long. She folded in on herself, knees buckling, and I moved without thinking.
My arms came around her, pulling her against me, but Christ, watching her fall apart was destroying what little control I had left.
Normally, my shit was buried deep—the anger, the fear, and the hollow ache that grew with every bad test result and each brave look my brother gave me. But today had left me exposed. The hard truths about what Caleb and my family were facing had landed all at once.
Still, she was falling apart in my arms, and somehow that steadied something in me. Gave me something to focus on that wasn’t the slow-motion disaster of watching my little brother fight for his life.
I didn’t get to break. That wasn’t my job. My job was to be the rock everyone else could lean on.
So I held her tighter, letting her forehead press against my chest, her breath hitching, and shoved everything else down where it belonged.
A dark, possessive urge took hold. Someone had pushed her to this point, and my body reacted before my brain caught up. The need to find whoever had done this and make them pay burned hot and immediate.
The man she’d mentioned flashed through my head. The one who might not be missing her. If he was the cause of her breakdown, so fucking help me…
I wouldn’t go looking for him. But if he came around to hurt her again, I wouldn’t hesitate to put him on the ground.
Right or wrong wasn’t part of the equation. It felt necessary.
Which was insane, considering I’d only met her yesterday. I didn’t even know her. Hell, I could count the facts on one hand.
Her name was Jamison. Jamie for short.
She had a sharp sense of humor that cut through the bullshit.
Chocolate was her favorite.
And she was wasting time on some asshole who didn’t deserve her.
There were too many things I didn’t know, and a hell of a lot more I wanted to find out.
Finally, her sobs eased into smaller, broken sounds. Half-swallowed sniffles that made my jaw ache. The moment she came back to herself, her body went rigid, like she’d suddenly remembered where she was. Who was holding her.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was muffled against my chest. “I didn’t mean to…”
She tried to pull away.
I gave her room to breathe but kept her close enough that retreat wasn’t an option.
Eyes down, she dragged a sleeve across her face, staring at my soaked shirt like it held all her secrets. “I’m sorry, I’m not normally a crier.”
She was retreating now. Folding everything back up, shoving the emotions somewhere she could pretend they didn’t exist. I recognized the move. Hell, I’d done it more times than I could count.
A dry, embarrassed laugh followed. It was thin, defensive, and not fooling anyone. “I don’t even know what that was about.”
“Bullshit.”
Her head snapped up. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I call bullshit.” I studied her red-rimmed eyes and blotchy cheeks, memorizing every detail. “I’m sure you don’t cry much. You seem like a tough girl. But tough girls don’t cry without knowing the reason. Something upset you, and I bet you know exactly what—or who—it was.”
She crossed her arms, bristling. “Is it a family trait, then?”
I frowned. “What?”
“Your brother yesterday, and now you. You’re both so direct.” Her mouth twisted. “But at least he was nice about it.”
“I’m not nice?” A short laugh escaped me as I glanced down at my tear-stained chest. “Jamie, you just cried all over my favorite shirt. How am I the bad guy here?”
Her expression cracked despite herself. Flustered, her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth, and my brain chose that exact moment to betray me.
I forced my gaze away. Focused on the exit sign. On anything but the delectable curve of her mouth and what I wanted to do with it.
“Look.” I reset, voice steadier. “I don’t need the details of your life. But you don’t have to lie to me about it either. It’s okay that you cried. And it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me why.”
She hesitated, blinking like she might lose it again.
Fuck, I couldn’t handle round two. Not when every instinct in me wanted to hunt down whoever had hurt her.
I took another step back. “We’re not doing this again.”
She frowned. “Doing what?”
I gestured at my shirt. “You crying. Me wearing it.”
A startled laugh escaped her, sharp and unplanned. It bounced off the stairwell walls, cracking something open between us.
“That’s better.” I couldn’t help but smile.
She laughed again, breathless this time, like something in her chest had finally loosened.
And somehow, the hospital didn’t feel like it was crushing me alive anymore.
Her laughter faded slowly, reluctant to leave us alone. When it did, the silence that followed wasn’t heavy. It was charged.
She swayed slightly, still catching her breath, and reached out without thinking.
Her palm landed flat against my chest.
Right over my heart.
The contact was innocent. The effect was fucking devastating.
I froze, every muscle locking as heat sparked beneath her hand. Every instinct in me snapped to full attention, demanding I hold her there, claim this moment and make it mine.
She didn’t pull away. Didn’t seem to realize what she’d done. Her fingers stayed splayed, grounding herself while I fought to stay in control.
It was simple contact. It was also the most intoxicating thing I’d felt in months.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I covered her hand with mine, fingers closing over hers and holding her exactly where she was. Not rough, but firm enough to make my intentions clear.
Stay. Right here. With me.
Her eyes lifted to mine, wide and searching, her breath catching as she held my gaze.
Something electric shot between us. A live thing, humming with possibility.
She leaned in. It was just a fraction, but it was enough to bring every memory of her pressed against me roaring back to life. Enough that my pulse kicked hard and fast, like it was trying to outrun my better judgment.
Fuck.
I released her hand and moved back at the same time, breaking the moment before it turned into something we couldn’t take back.
She straightened immediately, drawing herself up like armor sliding back into place. One breath. Shoulders squared. Composure restored with practiced ease.
It didn’t help me at all.
Because reality had crashed down hard.
There was someone else in her life. Someone she was missing. Someone she might’ve been crying over only minutes ago. Add that to everything else circling my head, and the situation went from tempting to impossible.
“Hey.” My voice came out rougher than I intended, but I wasn’t apologizing for it. “Come say hello to Caleb.”
She blinked, clearly caught off guard by the request. Or maybe by how close we’d just come to crossing a line.
“He’s had a rough day. You wouldn’t know it to look at him. But I can tell, and I know he’d get a kick out of seeing you.”
“Oh.” Her expression shifted, tension melting into something warm and sincere. “Would that be okay? He seems like such a good kid. And he was so nice to me.”
“He’s an incredible kid.” The words came without hesitation. “And yeah. It would mean a lot.”
She nodded, already decided. “Okay. I just need to wash my face first. I don’t want to scare him with”—she gestured vaguely—“this.”
“You look perfect.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them, honest and unfiltered. I took a breath and reined it in. “But do whatever you need.”
Her mouth curved, shy now. She ducked her head, then stepped past me into the hallway, moving quickly like she needed the distance as much as I did.
“Jamie.”
She turned back, eyes wide. “Yeah?”
“My parents are here.” I fell into step beside her, close enough to catch her if she stumbled. “Maybe don’t mention how hard Caleb was flirting with you yesterday. My mom still thinks he’s her sweet baby boy.”
She laughed, lighter this time. “I think I can manage that. But can he?”
I huffed. “Good point.”
“I’ll be right back.” She angled toward the washrooms. “Wait for me?”
“Of course.” The answer came easy, automatic. “I’ll be right here whenever you’re ready.”
And I meant it. In more ways than one.
She disappeared down the hall, taking the warmth with her. I stayed where I was, leaning against the wall, watching the space she’d just left like I could will her back faster.
For the first time all day—hell, maybe months—my head wasn’t full of cancer treatments or worst-case scenarios.
It was full of a woman with tear-stained cheeks, a sharp laugh, and a hand that had branded itself over my heart.
And how easily she’d made everything else fall away.