Chapter Twenty-Four #3
Josh finishes with the second sock and rests his hand over my ankle for a moment, a shiver wracking through him. “Better?”
“Yes.” I breathe, ignoring my heart battering against my already sore ribs. “Thank you.”
Josh stands to pull the duvet further back before holding his hand out again.
I take it, letting him help me manoeuvre onto the bed and settle against the pillows while keeping the bruised side of my face away from the mattress.
He pulls the duvet over me slowly, stopping at my chest before smoothing one hand across the top of it, and the tenderness in that tiny movement makes my eyes sting again.
“Hey,” he murmurs, lowering himself onto the edge of the mattress. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Ruby.”
I turn my face slightly towards him. “You’re being really nice to me.”
His brows pull together. “Am I not usually?”
“No. You are.” I try to blink away the tears. “It’s kind of your thing at this point. Saving me.”
“You do get yourself into the most insane situations. I don’t know anyone with such bad luck.” He gives a low laugh. “Except maybe myself.”
“That’s comforting.”
“It should be. Means you’re not alone.”
My chest constricts. I look down at where his hand is resting on top of the duvet, I could reach for it without moving much at all. “You know, most people would probably decide I’m too much effort at this point.”
Josh’s face stutters. “You’re not.”
“I’m kind of a disaster.”
“You’re really not.”
“I got chased by a swan, stuck in a window, and now this.”
“Don’t they say things come in threes?”
“Is that your way of saying you can’t cope with saving me again?”
His hand moves over the duvet, edging closer to me. “I mean, if it’s you I’ll always do it. But I kind of want plain sailing from here.”
“I’m sorry.” My bottom lip wobbles. “I didn’t mean to drag you into multiple dramas.”
Josh looks at me for a beat, then pushes himself to his feet, keeping his back to me.
Selfish sadness swoops into my stomach. I’m not quite ready for him to leave even though he’s spent hours dealing with police, fighting two men, walking me back here, helping me get changed, and soothing me. He has every right to go home and relax.
I turn my face towards the pillow before he can see the disappointment, but then I hear the rustle of fabric instead of footsteps. When I look back, Josh has grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and is pulling it over his head.
Oh.
My brain, exhausted as it is, starts to shake itself awake.
He’s leaner than Oscar and Cam, but there’s nothing slight about him.
His shoulders are broad, his chest defined, and his stomach tightens when he reaches down to undo his jeans, the muscles there shifting beneath pale skin.
There’s a thin scar cutting diagonally across the lower left side of his stomach, pale and raised against the skin, and higher up, just beneath his collarbone on the right side of his chest, is a tiny black tattoo I’ve never seen before.
I squint at it, trying to work out what it is without making it painfully obvious that I’m staring at his half-naked body.
Josh catches me. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Are we not past that shit by now?”
“I’ve never seen your tattoo.”
He glances down at it, almost as though he forgets it exists. “Oh.”
“What is it?”
“Long story.”
I roll my eyes. “Are we not past that shit by now?”
Josh gives a soft laugh. “Yeah. Probably.”
He shoves his jeans down, stepping out of them and leaving himself in black boxers, and I drag my eyes back to his face before my exhausted brain gets any ideas.
There is something insane about being bruised, battered and emotionally destroyed while also noticing that Joshua Hardy has abs.
He climbs onto the mattress beside me, wiggling beneath the duvet before settling on his back. Then he turns his head towards me and lifts one arm. “Come here.”
I stare at him, frozen by the rush of need and want and desire, my whole body suddenly far too aware of how close he is and how badly I want to be closer.
He gives his fingers a small impatient wiggle. “Rubes.”
I shuffle across carefully, trying not to jar my ribs or put pressure on the bruised side of my face, and Josh meets me halfway, his arm sliding around my shoulders as he draws me against his chest. I settle with my cheek over his heart, one hand resting lightly against his stomach while his other hand comes up to cradle the back of my head, fingers threading carefully through my hair.
The second I’m tucked against him, everything inside me eases.
His fingers move slowly through my hair. “You okay?”
I nod, tracing the edge of the scar on his stomach. “I’m sorry you had to save me again.”
Josh’s chest rises beneath my cheek with a quiet breath. “You saved yourself tonight, Ruby.”
I don’t answer.
I don’t think I can.
So I stay curled against him, listening to his heart while his fingers move through my hair, and when sleep starts dragging me under, the last thing I register is his mouth brushing softly against the top of my head and a whispered, “Night, Ruby.”
I think I mumble, “Night, Josh.”