Page 69

I’m not weak. I’m not pathetic. I’m not stupid.

“Willow!”

I’m too busy having a breakthrough.

Instead of a damned breakdown.

Apparently, though, Hudson is out of patience.

With a thunk and a crack, the door pops open, and I look up in time to see a big hand catching it before it can slam into the opposite wall.

He moves slower then, carefully stepping into the opening.

His hazel eyes are unreadable as he takes in the sight of me on the floor, but he doesn’t say anything, and when he slips out of the opening, disappearing from view, my heart leaps, terror slicing my insides to ribbons.

But he’s not gone for long.

Almost as soon as that worry builds, it wanes again.

Because he’s back, pants on, something clenched in his hand as he slowly moves into the bathroom, crouching near me.

His T-shirt, I realize a heartbeat later as he passes it over to me.

“Put it on, princess,” he murmurs. “You’re shivering.”

I am, I realize, taking the material and tugging it over my head. It helps a little, but I’m not cold, not exactly.

It’s cool in here and the tile isn’t comfortable and warm beneath me.

But the shivering is because of the adrenaline.

“Here, baby,” he says, still soft, still quiet, and I look up to see him holding up a blanket.

My heart spasms, eyes burning again, and I can’t move.

Thankfully, he does it for me, slowly—oh so slowly—wrapping the blanket around me.

The warmth settles over me and eventually the shaking begins to calm. But after we’ve sat in silence for long minutes, the voices begin rising again, reminding me what I did, how I acted, why we’re sitting here?—

“Can I hold you?” he whispers.

My throat is tight, so I just nod, those sharp edges inside of me filed down when he draws me close.

“I’m sorry.” I drop my head to his shoulder. “I ruined it.”

He’s quiet for several heartbeats then his big chest inflates and deflates. “I was kind of coming in here to apologize for doing just that.”

I shake my head. “It wasn’t your fault. I…” I take a deep breath. “I was the one who freaked out.”

He cups my jaw, turns my face up so our gazes meet. “I pushed too far, too fast, princess. That’s on me.” A flicker of steel in his eyes. “And I won’t make that same mistake again.”

My heart skips a beat as I remember my conversation with Briar earlier.

His thumb smooths lightly over my cheek. “In the kitchen I was thinking about how strong you are and how much you’ve been through and how far you’ve come in such little time.”

Another pulse through my middle.

I want to look away, want to tell him he’s wrong, that the evidence of my weakness is written right here in the fact that we’re sitting on the bathroom floor after an aborted love making session.