Chapter 28
Dex
Daniela’s been out for a few hours, and I try to be as quiet as possible as I peek in to check on her one last time before I crash for the night. She was in and out of the bathroom for a while, but she finally settled around ten. I’ve been waiting up, making sure she’s okay.
She’s curled up in her bed, still in the same outfit from earlier, her golden-brown hair a soft cascade across her pillow. You’d never guess she spent the afternoon puking her guts out.
I make my way back to the living room where I find some spare blankets to set up camp on the couch. I’m a big guy, so it’s not going to be the most comfortable night of sleep, but I don’t care. She has an extra bedroom, but I’d rather be out here. Close by in case she needs me.
I toss and turn for a while, drifting in and out, when I’m suddenly pulled out of sleep by the sound of her frail voice calling me. At first, I think I imagined it. But then I hear it again. It’s soft, fragile. Very unlike Daniela.
I get up, striding across her living room to her doorway. Through the crack of light, I can see her sleepy eyes on me.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she croaks. “Just making sure you didn’t leave.”
“I’d never leave,” I reply.
“You don’t know that,” she whispers, her gaze fixed on the wall.
I don’t know what to say to that—because why on earth would I leave her like this? Instead, I ask, “Can I get you anything?”
“No, thank you.” She yawns, then groans quietly. “Could you…never mind.”
“Just say it.”
“It’s stupid. Never mind.”
“Daniela.” I say sternly.
“Would you lay with me?”
I freeze. It’s not that I don’t want to.
God, I want to. But I know we’re toeing a dangerous line.
If I let her in too far, she could break me.
But my need to take care of her, be there for her in whatever way she needs, outweighs everything else.
So I crawl into bed beside her. I don’t touch her. I just lay there.
She shifts slowly, grunting as she turns to face me. Her eyes are heavy, her lids fluttering with exhaustion.
“You didn’t get sick,” she murmurs.
“No.”
“Good.”
I nod. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. But didn’t you order the same lunch as me?”
“You had shrimp,” I reply.
“Ugh. Don’t say that word.”
I smile apologetically. I want so badly to reach out and stroke the hair falling on her face, but I refrain from doing it.
“I haven’t been this sick since…” she trails off.
“Since?” I ask.
“I don’t know. It’s just been a while.”
“Dani?”
“Dex?”
“Get some rest,” I whisper.
“Okay.” She gives me a sleepy smile, her eyes already closing.
I fall asleep memorizing the freckles on her face. The curve of her lips. The way she just said my name.