Chapter 13 #2
She was faintly lit by the kitchen nightlight over the stove, wearing an oversized t-shirt. Her hair was down. She looked uncertain.
“Can’t sleep either?” she asked quietly.
Colin opened his eyes and grinned. “Not really. How’d you know I was awake?”
Maren smiled and shrugged. “I’d say a mother develops instincts for when someone is fake-sleeping, but I’m just an aunt. So I guess some of those instincts rubbed off on me from Mira.”
Colin sat up. “You make a great mom.” He kept his voice even.
“If you say so.”
She was killing him.
Colin slid his legs off the couch and pulled the blanket off to the side. He gestured for Maren to join him.
Maren hesitated, then crossed to the couch and sat at the far end, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. She left a careful two feet of space between them. That killed, too.
If I hadn’t said anything in the hall. If I’d just said you’re welcome when she thanked me. If I’d taken one step closer to her…
It would have been wrong, and you know it.
They sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment, two people who didn’t know where they stood after he’d shoved her away in the hallway.
“Is it always like this?” Maren asked finally. “The not-sleeping?”
Colin shifted onto his side to look at her. “Comes with the territory.”
“I used to sleep fine.” She rested her chin on her knees. “Eight hours, no problem. Now every sound wakes me up. Every creak in the house. I keep thinking someone’s breaking in again.”
“That’s normal.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah. Your brain’s trying to keep you safe. It’ll settle eventually.”
“When?”
Colin almost smiled. “When the threat’s gone. Or when you’re so exhausted you don’t have a choice.”
“Great. So I have those two options to look forward to.”
“Pretty much.”
Maren was quiet for a moment. “You recognized the book.”
“My sister loved it growing up. Same book, same blue fairy on the cover. She carried it everywhere when she was little.”
“You have a sister?”
“Yeah. Nicole.” He paused. “But we’re not close. Kind of drifted. It’s my fault. I’m too busy to see her, and she and her husband are too busy with their kid.”
That wasn’t quite true. They’d invited him to visit plenty of times. He was the one who always had a reason not to show up. He tried to make up for it by sending gifts, but it wasn’t the same.
Maren studied him. “How old is your…?”
“Nephew. He’s three.”
“Younger than Juni.”
“Close enough.”
Maren didn’t push. She just nodded and looked away, like she understood there was more but wasn’t going to dig for it.
The silence stretched.
I should probably say something. Apologize for the hallway. But the words stuck in his throat.
“Colin?”
“Yeah.”
“Thank you again. For tonight. Not because it’s your job.” Maren’s voice was steady but soft. “Because you were really good with her. You made her feel safe. You read her mom’s favorite book and you didn’t make it weird or sad. You just...gave her what she needed.”
Colin smirked. “Totally by accident. I’m not good with kids.”
“That’s not true. You are.” Her lips turned up in a playful grin, the first he’d seen, and it made his heart speed up. “Maybe you just need someone to tell you you’re doing a good job.”
He’d told Juni almost the same thing that afternoon. You’re already pretty darn smart about being safe. You just needed someone to tell you that you’re doing a good job.
And now Maren was giving it back to him.
“I’m not—” Colin started, then stopped. “I don’t do this. Kids. I don’t—”
“I know,” Maren said quietly. “You keep saying that. But, Colin, I watch you with her. The way you talk to her. The way you listen. The way you didn’t flinch when she climbed into your lap today.
” Her voice dropped. “You don’t just guard her.
You see her. Not everyone sees kids. And that’s. ..that’s everything.”
Colin leaned forward. They were closer now. Less than a foot between them. Close enough to see her eyes in the dim light from the kitchen.
“Colin.” Maren’s hand landed on his arm. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m not asking for your story. I just...I wanted you to know that I see you, too. And whatever happened, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re good with Juni. You’re good at this. Whether you believe it or not.”
Colin looked down at her hand on his arm. Small fingers, short nails, a thin scar across her knuckles he’d never noticed before.
I should pull back.
He didn’t.
“I shouldn’t have said it was just my job,” he said roughly. “Earlier. In the hallway.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t mean it to sound like…” He scrubbed his face.
Like Maren was just another job. Like she wasn’t someone special.
She’s not supposed to be someone special.
Maren squeezed his arm gently, and that small pressure traveled straight through him. “It’s fine! Really.”
“No. It’s not fine.”
“Okay.” Her voice dropped to almost a whisper.
They were so close now. Less than six inches between them. Close enough that he could see the way her breath caught. Close enough to see the exact moment her eyes dropped to his mouth.
Colin’s hand moved without permission—up to cup her jaw, thumb brushing her cheekbone.
Maren went still.
He could feel her pulse under his fingertips. Fast. Unsteady.
She leaned in and Colin found himself pulled toward Maren. Her lips parted as her eyes went to half-mast. Her mouth would be so soft, her hair tangled in his fingers, her body pressed against his—
Colin dropped his hand from her cheek and pulled back like he’d been burned. At the same time, Maren jerked away and pulled her knees up like a shield.
“Maren, sorry, I shouldn’t—”
“Oh God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“I don’t want to use you,” they both said at the same time.
They stared at each other for a moment, stunned.
“I feel like I just made everything worse,” Maren whispered.
Colin ran both hands through his hair, every protective instinct warring with the part of him that wanted to close that distance again and finish what they’d almost started. “You didn’t,” he said softly. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I did.”
Because I want to kiss you so badly I can barely breathe. Because you and Juni are breaking down every wall I’ve spent years building and I don’t know how to stop it.
“I just—I can’t do this right now. Not while—” He gestured vaguely toward the hallway. Toward Juni’s room. Toward the entire impossible situation. “Not while you’re vulnerable. It wouldn’t be right.”
Maren looked relieved.
Of course she’s relieved. You’ll be lucky she doesn’t report you to Kyle.
“You’re right.” She unfolded herself from the couch and stood, putting distance between them that felt both necessary and unbearable. “I should—I’m going to go back to bed.”
“Maren. I’m sorry.” Colin stood.
“It’s okay.” She gave him a smile that didn’t quite land. “Really. Let’s just...forget it happened.”
“I can’t do that.” The words were out before he could stop them. “If…you want to report me—”
Maren froze. “What? Report you?”
“For misconduct.”
Her eyes went wide. “You could just as easily report me for being a bad client.”
Now it was his turn to freeze.
“I meant it when I said I don’t want to use you,” she whispered.
Right. Of course. She was vulnerable, reaching out for someone, anyone, for comfort.
And he was convenient.
But the smile she gave him was so genuine.
“You aren’t,” he whispered back, wishing he could tell her more.
“I know.” She sighed. “If things were different. But they aren’t. Goodnight, Colin.” She turned toward the hallway, her bare feet making hardly any sound on the hardwood.
“Good night, Maren.”
She turned, gave him one more devastating smile, then padded the rest of the way down the hall and disappeared into her room. The door clicked shut.
Colin lay back down and stared at the ceiling.
Now he knew the way she looked when she wanted to be kissed. Knew the way her pulse felt under his fingertips.
I don’t want to use you.
Sleep was definitely not coming anytime soon.