Chapter 17 #2
His familiar presence was a safety, grounding her in a way she hadn't expected. When his arms wrapped around her, she melted into the embrace, her body seeking solace in the warmth and safety he offered.
His voice was low— calm.
"Kath?"
She could sense the undercurrent of anger in his tone, not directed at her, but at whoever had caused her such distress.
He stroked her back, the motion soft and soothing.
"Tell me what happened," he said, voice gentler now.
She breathed in, but the tightness in her chest remained.
She pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze. Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"I—I … someone was following me."
Joshua went still, as if something had snapped beneath the surface. His grip tightened, and Kath could feel the protectiveness emanating from him, reaching a whole new level.
Katherine's breath caught in her throat as Joshua's voice took on a steely edge, leaving no room for argument. "I'm walking you home," he stated, his tone leaving no doubt that it was not a suggestion or a request.
A wave of relief washed over her—unexpected, but welcome. She hadn’t realized how tightly she’d been holding herself together until his offer gave her something solid to lean on.
Joshua must have seen it—the way her shoulders sagged just slightly, the tension slipping from her frame—because his voice came softer then, though still certain.
"And I’m staying," he said, leaving no room for argument. "Until you’re okay."
She nodded, letting Josh steer her down the familiar path.
But the moment cracked when she remembered the phone.
Ben.
Her heart stuttered.
She hadn’t ended the call.
With a jolt of guilt, she fumbled for her bag, fingers digging through its depths until they found the still-warm device.
The screen was lit—Ben still on the line. Still there.
Still listening.
For a second, she froze.
Then— She hit end. No words. No explanation. Just silence.
Her fingers flew over the keyboard before she could second-guess the choice.
Hey. I'm sorry for scaring you. I ran into Joshua—he's walking me home. He'll stay with me for a while, don't worry.
Send.
She stared at the message for a heartbeat, the guilt pressing heavy against her heart. Then the phone disappeared back into her bag like a secret too sharp to hold.
Joshua said something soft beside her, a joke maybe.
She didn’t hear it.
She just kept walking.
Allowed herself to be led, her body still reeling from the adrenaline and the fear that hadn’t quite let go.
He felt safe, arms had offered comfort she hadn’t even known she needed—until she had it.
But that comfort came at a cost. And Ben had paid it.
In silence. In absence. In a call that never got closure.
She hadn’t meant to betray anything. Hadn’t meant for it to feel like betrayal.
And yet, the weight of it lodged in her chest like something left unsaid. Like a thread pulled too tight.
Kath forced the thoughts down—one step, then another.
Let Joshua guide.
No looking back. No second-guessing. Not tonight.
Just get home.
Just breathe.
◆◆◆
Katherine stepped into her apartment, the door closing behind her with a soft click. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if seeking a protective embrace, a barrier against the lingering fear that had taken root deep within her.
The silence that typically provided a sense of comfort and familiarity now felt oppressive, suffocating.
She knew she was safe, her mind understood that rationally, but her body hadn't caught up.
The adrenaline still coursed through her veins, heart pounding against her ribcage, echoing the footsteps that had haunted her mere moments ago.
Joshua’s presence settled into the room without fanfare.
He stood by the door, jacket already discarded, as if he belonged there—as if this space somehow recognized him.
It didn’t feel like an intrusion. It felt steady. Grounded.
A quiet constant in the middle of everything unraveling inside her.
He spoke gently, voice low and cautious, like approaching something fragile.
"You okay?"
Kath forced a smile—one that felt tight, strained. "Yeah. Thanks for walking me home." The lie slipped from her lips with ease, a reflex born out of the need to appear strong, to maintain control.
But Joshua didn't buy it. She knew he could see right through her flimsy facade, his gaze piercing.
Joshua stepped into the space between, his movements deliberate, expression serious. "I don't have anywhere to be tonight."
His words hung in the air, an offer that both comforted and unsettled her. She knew she should refuse, should insist on being alone, but the truth pressed tight against her , constricting her breath. She didn't want to be alone. Not tonight, not after the fear that had gripped her so viscerally.
Joshua softened the offer, but he didn't back down. "I can stay."
Katherine's fingers curled inward, her nails biting into her palms as she wrestled with the decision. She wanted to say no, to maintain the illusion of strength and independence that she had so carefully cultivated. But the events of the night had left her shaken.
She exhaled slowly, the sound barely audible in the stillness of the apartment.
"Okay."
Joshua relaxed, just a bit, his shoulders loosening as the air shifted around them. The tension dissipated, replaced by a quieter, softer energy that felt familiar.
In that moment, Kath allowed herself to lean into the comfort of Joshua's presence, letting the walls she had built around herself crack, just enough to let him in.
The kitchen was still bathed in soft, yellow light—the kind that made everything look safer than it felt.
Katherine leaned back against the kitchen counter, her eyes following Joshua's movements as he navigated her space with an ease that both bemused and warmed her.
There was no hesitation in his actions, no need to ask for permission or direction.
He moved through her kitchen as if he had done it countless times before, a familiarity that should have felt intrusive but instead felt strangely comforting.
She arched a brow, her lips curving into a half-smile. "Making yourself at home?"
Joshua glanced over his shoulder, his own smile widening as he caught her gaze. "You look like you could use tea."
And he was right. Katherine could feel the tension lingering in her muscles, the residual adrenaline still coursing through her veins, leaving her feeling both wired and drained.
The thought of a warm cup of tea, the ritual of steeping and sipping, held an undeniable appeal, a promise of comfort and familiarity that she craved in that moment.
As she watched Joshua move around her kitchen, a quiet thought settled at the edge of her awareness—more feeling than sentence.
He belonged in spaces like this. The soft rattle of cups, the muted clink of metal against porcelain.
Everything about him fit here, in the low light and silence, like a familiar song she couldn’t quite hum, but somehow still knew.
His presence didn’t jar her. Didn’t demand anything.
It simply... was. A comfort she'd never asked for but hadn't pushed away either.
And then there was Ben.
He didn’t belong in kitchens or quiet. He belonged in moments that cracked— in tension, in heat, in everything that made her blood run faster just from the sound of his voice.
He didn’t soothe. He claimed. Not loudly, but with the kind of certainty that didn’t ask for permission.
She didn’t know what she feared more: the comfort that let her breathe, or the control that made her forget how.
But none of it mattered. Not really.
There was nothing to choose between.
Joshua glanced back at her, as if reading a silence she hadn’t spoken.
His voice was gentle, but didn’t waver. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”
She deflects. Teasing. Avoiding. “Oh? And what am I pretending?”
He answers without flinching. “That you’re fine.”
She hates how close he gets to the truth. The words hit like a physical blow, making her stomach twist. She forces a smirk, trying to maintain the facade that everything is under control. But Joshua sees through it, his gaze unwavering and knowing.
He steps closer—not enough to corner her, just enough to see what she’ll do. And she… doesn’t move. Doesn’t pull away.
Her body betrays her, freezing in place as if anchored by an invisible force. The air between them thickens with unspoken tension, the silence stretching taut like a wire about to snap.
Katherine felt the weight of Joshua's offer settle over her like a warm blanket, tempting her with the promise of comfort and escape.
His words were gentle, an easy out from the turmoil that had consumed her evening.
She could accept his offer, allow herself to be enveloped in the familiarity of their friendship, and pretend that the fear and uncertainty had never taken hold.
For a fleeting moment, the idea was alluring, a respite from the chaos that had threatened to overwhelm her.
But as her gaze flickered to his mouth, something shifted within her.
It was a subtle movement, barely perceptible, but Joshua caught it, his smile curving with a hopeful understanding that sent a ripple of awareness through her.
"You're impossible," Kath murmured, her voice soft as she pulled back, creating a sliver of distance between them.
His laughter filled the space, rich and relaxed, a sound that resonated deep within her. "You love it." he teased, his grin widening.
And in that moment, Kath couldn't deny the truth that lingered beneath the surface. There was a part of her that did love this – the easy banter, the comfortable familiarity, the way Joshua's presence seemed to soothe the frayed edges of her soul.
He didn't push. He just shifted the tone, handing her the tea – gentle, easy.
"You know, I should probably take you out sometime,"
he said, his voice light, teasing.
Kath froze – just a beat too long.
"Since I'm already playing the doting boyfriend role, might as well do it properly," he added with a smirk.
It was smooth, disarming.
Kath fired back — just enough to feel in control again. "That's what you think this is?"
Joshua leaned in — just a little — his voice lower, more dangerous. "Tell me I'm wrong."
She didn’t. And that silence said everything.
The apartment was still. The adrenaline had faded, the fear dissipated, but something inside her remained taut, like a wire pulled taught. The silence wrapped around her like a blanket with the lining torn out. It muffled everything, but gave no comfort.
Joshua hadn't left. He was still there, easy, present, steady. That should’ve made her feel safe. It wasn't enough. She tried to believe it, that maybe she was just overcomplicating everything.
But he noticed her tension.
"You still look tense," he said softly, watching her with those perceptive eyes.
“Turn around,” he said—gentle, easy. Like a suggestion.
But it wasn’t.
"Bossy," Kath replied, amusement lacing her voice as she tried to deflect the weight of his observation.
He smirked. "You like it."
Kath hesitated, caught in the truth of his words. Then, slowly, she turned.
His hands settled on her shoulders, warm and steady.
Slow, deliberate pressure, not invasive or intense. It felt good.
But it didn’t burn. It didn’t shake her. She knew what this was supposed to feel like. And part of her wished she didn't.
Joshua's touch was careful, comforting, kind. He wasn't trying to take anything, just offering relief. But her mind betrayed her. Ben's hands would dig in, hold, command.
Ben wouldn't just touch—he'd claim.
She tried to stop the thought, but failed. Her head dipped forward, breath catching.
"I'll take that as a good sign," he murmured, low and amused.
She didn't pull away—but her body wasn't with him. Not fully. Not where it mattered. And when he lingered, just a little too long, her stomach dropped.
It wasn’t desire blooming under Joshua’s hands—it was the hollow echo of everything she was trying not to need.
She shifted away, just slightly. Just enough. Not rejection, just escape.
The room was dim, quiet, safe. Kath was curled on the couch, a blanket pulled over, her body finally surrendering to exhaustion after the harrowing events of the evening.
"So, do I get a pillow or do I have to suffer?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Without looking, Kath tossed him a pillow from the couch.
"Try not to cry," she replied.
It was easy with him. It was warm.
Then his voice shifted—softer, quieter. Like he was peeling something open without asking.
"Hey," he said. "I meant what I said earlier."
Kath's stomach tightened.
"You don't have to do everything alone, Kath," Joshua continued carefully.
He wasn’t just talking about tonight. He was talking about all of it. The weight she carried, the burdens she shouldered alone. Kath didn't know how to respond, so she simply nodded, afraid that anything more might break her.
And Joshua understood. He didn't push further, but he wouldn't let it go. He softened the moment again, easing the tension.
"If you wake up in the middle of the night panicking, I'll be here," he said.
"I'm not dramatic," she muttered, but even she didn't believe it.
"You did kind of throw yourself into my arms earlier," Joshua pointed out with a grin.
Kath flushed and rolled her eyes, turning away from him.
"Goodnight, Joshua," she muttered.
And then, he said her name in a way that made her heart skip a beat.
"Goodnight, Katherine," his voice low and easy.
And damn it, she liked the way it sounded.