Page 39 of A Curse On Black Lake (Black Lake Gothic Cowboys #1)

Chapter thirty-one

Eliana

Wake up!

Wake up!

My eyes spring open, and a bolt of thunder makes the house shake. Adrenaline shoots through me, and a nauseating dread fills my throat.

“What is it?” I ask the Spirits.

“No! Get off!” I hear Killian yell.

They don’t answer.

I leap out of bed and run to his room, throwing the door open, to find him thrashing in his sheets. His bare torso almost glistens beneath the rapid flashes of lightning.

A nightmare.

My shoulders drop, and I take a breath. I thought someone was in the house.

He grunts and mumbles incoherently, turning back and forth.

I could wake him up, but I don’t want to startle him. Maybe I should leave him to it. Maybe he’s used to nightmares, and I would only make it worse.

I take another step closer to his bed, and he continues tossing and turning. Whatever he’s seeing is terrifying to him.

Going against my better judgement, I crawl under the covers with him and rub his back. We shouldn’t be this close, but every atom in my body screams at me to help him, to give him a soft place to land.

His tense body immediately relaxes, and then he surprises me and spins around. Still asleep, his eyebrows are scrunched together, and he huffs angrily.

I wish I knew what he saw.

Killian whimpers, again and I stop being careful and pull him into my chest.

His entire body softens into me, and his cheek rubs against my breasts. He mutters something and breathes steadily again. I lay there and take a deep breath of him. He smells like safety and cedar, and I know someone can’t smell like safety, but he does to me.

I kiss the crown of his head, and hold him, uncaring of the consequences, uncaring of what it could mean to be vulnerable with this man. It terrifies me, but I want to be right here with him. I know what it's like to wake up alone and terrified. I can make sure he doesn’t tonight.

Thunder cracks outside, shaking the house, and bolts of lightning flash in the room.

Killian tosses his arm across my ribs as if he unconsciously needs me closer, and in the flicker I catch his smoothed out expression.

Is that possible? Is my touch all he needed?

The anticipation building between us is nearly palpable.

But I keep telling myself no. The whole towel thing in the laundry room was so embarrassing I wish I could have disappeared into the wall, but Killian looked at me like he wanted to eat me.

And … I liked it. But we can’t, I can’t. I’m helping a friend.

The warmth of his body makes my eyes droop, and then his body stiffens against me.

His hand tenses on my ribs as he wakes up like he’s making sure I’m real.

“Wha — what’s going on?” he asks sleepily.

“You were having a nightmare,” I whisper.

“Oh,” he mumbles on my chest.

“Was it bad?” I ask him.

He leans his head back, and I look down at him. The storm still rages outside and in his eyes. I hope the animals are safe.

“I’m not sure,” he mumbles.

His arm tightens around my ribs, and it feels good. Too good.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

I nod and drag my hand through his soft hair. His eyes close with the movement and open lazily when I reach the back of his neck.

His eyes search mine, and I can feel the tug, the need building between us.

My soul begs me to know the feel of his lips on mine.

But it will push us into something I fear we’ll never recover from.

I can’t tie myself to another human knowing full well it will weigh me down more.

Killian is not a burden, and he doesn’t deserve to be treated that way.

He lifts his head as if to kiss me, and I turn away, guilty for ignoring his advance. Instead, he kisses me on the cheek, and I feel it all the way to my toes.

Sometimes life is unfair. I’m the perfect example. Last time I trusted someone with my heart, he left. It hurt too much to try again.

“I’ll go back to my own bed,” I whisper, sitting up.

His arm tightens. “I’m sorry, Eliana, I won’t … can you stay? Please?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I whisper, settling back.

His arm around me tightens, pulling me closer to his bare chest, as if he’s afraid I’m going to leave him to fight his demons alone. “You remember the nightmare, don’t you?” I ask him.

The storm goes quiet outside, then a crack of thunder and lightning makes me jump as it rattles the house.

“I do, and I don’t want to talk about it,” he says darkly.

“Why?”

“Because it needs to stay in the past,” he mutters.

“If it was in the past, then you wouldn’t be dreaming about it,” I say quietly.

He sighs. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine,” I mumble.

He shifts, and I feel his chin rest on my head.

Closing my eyes, I let myself feel this, remember every bit of it.

“Go back to sleep,” he whispers as if he’s almost there himself.

I listen to the rain on the roof and focus on the steady thump of his heart against my cheek, drifting back to sleep.

“Thank you,” he whispers.