Chapter 27
Daniela
By the time we reach my apartment, I’m hopping out of the truck and running up the stairs, half-slumped over. I probably look ridiculous, but I can’t find it in me to care right now. I hear Dex following close behind me, but he doesn’t say anything. I’m sure he can figure out what’s happening.
I leave the door open for him behind me as I hurry inside, making my way to the bathroom just in time for my entire lunch to come right back out.
After several brutal minutes of my body forcing every last bit out of me, I slump from my knees onto my butt, tilting my head back against the wall and closing my eyes. Why did this have to happen today ?
Eventually, there’s a soft knock on the door.
Damn it. I tried to will his presence away. But of course he’s still out there, most likely hearing everything.
“Dani, you okay?” He asks gently. Why does he have to call me that?
“I’m fine.” I try to inject some power into my voice, but it comes out sounding shaky and weak.
“Are you sure?” His voice is full of concern.
“Yes, I’m sure. You can come in if you must.”
The door creaks open, and his large, solid frame fills the doorway. Something about the contrast of him—dark clothes, dark hair—against my soft, feminine bathroom feels surreal. Or maybe it’s the lightheadedness that’s making everything feel like a dream.
His face is tight with concern, his brows drawn together and his nostrils flaring slightly.
“Hi,” I speak weakly.
“Hi,” He holds out a water bottle with the lid already off. “Any chance you can stomach some of this?”
I reach out to grab it, then pull it to my dry mouth, taking a pathetic sip.
“Do you want to move to your bed?” he asks, his voice deep yet soft.
“Maybe…” Suddenly, I’m shooing him out as I feel the water come back up.
I don’t know how long I’m in there before he comes back in.
This time, I’m lying on the cold bathroom floor, curled up in a ball.
I feel his fingers brushing hair from my face, then his arms wrap around me.
They’re solid, careful, and impossibly warm.
I don’t have the energy to protest, but I don’t want to, anyway. I feel…safe in his arms.
He carries me to the bed and lays me down gently on my side, still curled up.
I feel the covers fall over me. Then I hear the soft clink of something being set on the nightstand, and the sound of the light switching off as he leaves the room.
I could swear he lingers for several long moments, but I could be imagining that.