Page 37 of Healed Hearts (Mended Hearts #2)

Chapter Thirty-Six

Julian

I feel strange when I wake up. Empty. Sad. But even more strange is that Holden is not asleep on top of me. Instead, I’m nestled against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around me, his fingers tangled in my hair, and his leg thrown over my hip. The room is dark, and I don’t want to turn around to look at the clock to even see what time it is.

My throat’s aching and my eyes are burning. I think I cried myself to sleep. I try reflecting on the evening before, but it’s only coming in flashes. Holden taking care of Wren at the hospital. Roman showing up. Holden braiding Wren’s hair. I felt blank. Detached. Like I was watching but not seeing. Present in the room physically, but emotionally, somewhere else.

I remember climbing into bed beside Holden, his softly whispered words drawing me slowly back to him, his fingers on my back, and his body wrapped around mine, much like it is right now.

I press my lips against his chest, needing more. Needing to feel connected to him. Needing him to ground me. To let me know I’m real, and I’m here. That I’m not a ghost floating through the world.

He stirs, his fingers briefly tightening, causing a sharp sting to explode over my scalp. I like it. It, too, reminds me that I’m here. “Julian?” His sleep-drenched voice is quiet, a balm to my fucking soul. God, I need this man like I’ve needed nothing else in my entire life.

“I need you.” My voice is a soft whimper, all pain and desperation. It would embarrass the hell out of me if I was in the right state of mind. I’m not used to feeling this way. I don’t like this.

Holden doesn’t miss a beat. He pushes me to my back and climbs up my body, settling himself in my arms. I haul him closer to me, burying my face in his wild waves, breathing him in, and losing myself in his scent. Fuck. “Are you okay?” he asks.

I don’t know. I think I am. I want to be.

Instead of focusing on my internal turmoil, I focus on him: the soft weight of him, the warmth of his skin, and the way his waves tickle my nose. I let my hands drag up his back, feeling the supple skin beneath my palms. He shivers, shifting on top of me. I want to live under his skin. I want him to be a part of me. “Please,” I whisper. Even though I’m not sure what I’m asking for. God, my head is a fucking mess.

“Please what, Jules?”

Fuck, I don’t know. Can’t he see that I don’t know? That I just need him to ground me? That I need him to hold me down and make me feel like I’m part of this world and not whatever world I’m slipping into in my own mind? He pulls back, green eyes colliding with mine, the worry and fear impossible to miss. Slowly, so slowly, I slide my hands over his skin until I’m cradling his head, his soft hair brushing my fingers. I pull him closer until his lips crash with mine. A soft noise echoes through the room, and I’m lost—drowning in him all over again. Always fucking drowning.

He’s somehow the reason I’m floating and also the reason I can’t breathe. He braces himself above me, his tongue mapping my mouth—his soft whimpers pouring into me, settling under my bones.

I pull back, just enough to speak against his lips. “I need you inside me.”

He draws in a shaky breath. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to regret anything. You’re in a strange place emotionally right now.”

I nod frantically. “Please. I could never, ever regret you or anything we do together.”

He raises up and peers down at me, his eyes searching mine. “Okay.”

With a soft smile, he brings his lips back to mine, kissing me until I’m breathless, until I’m on fire—burning up from the inside out.

It’s gentle—slow—the way he works his way down my body, lips and tongue and teeth exploring. His fingers drag along my skin, making goosebumps rise in their wake. He stretches me unhurriedly, driving me mad with his gentle, insistent touches. When he finally lines up and sinks into my body, my brain goes offline. He’s all I can see and all I can feel—his breath against my skin, the sheen of sweat on his body as he lies against me, the way he gasps and groans, his lips pressed against my chest.

I’m so full of him I can barely breathe, let alone talk. He has no such problem. He whispers to me in the dark as he takes me apart second by second, putting me back together again with softly spoken words about how much he loves me, how much he needs me, and how good I feel. How happy he is that I’m his and he’s mine.

His hand finds mine, and he twines our fingers together, holding me hostage in his grip as his hips undulate and send me higher. When I come, it’s with a relieved sob that seems to rip itself from my very core.

We lie quietly together, his softening cock still buried in my body. He starts to pull back, and I hold him in place with a hand on his ass. “Stay.”

He lets out a soft sigh. “I’m not leaving you. Just gonna get us cleaned up.”

I shake my head. “Inside. Stay inside.”

He pauses for a second, but ultimately lies back against my chest, our bodies molding together. More tears fall from my eyes, dripping down my temples and into my hair.

Holden draws mindless shapes on my chest with his fingertips as my eyes grow heavier and heavier. It’s no time at all before I’m drifting back to sleep.

The next time I open my eyes, it’s with the sun streaming through my windows. I take stock of myself and my body. I feel kinda eh. Not great. Still a little groggy and strange. Fuck, it’s a good thing that Wren isn’t up yet, considering I’m covered in cum and completely naked, Holden’s familiar weight still pressing me into the bed, his morning erection poking against my tender ass. I give him a little shake. “Holden.”

He grumbles, shaking his head back and forth against my chest. I almost want to laugh, but we really have to get up because I have zero idea how much time we’ll have to get presentable. “Hold,” I say again.

He jolts awake, sitting up quickly, his eyes darting around like he’s not really sure where he is. When they finally settle on mine, they widen. “Oh shit. Where’s Wren?” He jumps out of bed so quickly that his legs get tangled in the blankets, and he falls to the ground with a crash and a groan. “Fuck. Me.”

I lean over the side of the bed to help him up. I don’t think I ate dinner last night because the movement makes my head go a little woozy. With the help of his grip on my arm, he pulls himself to his feet. “What the fuck. Why did you throw me out of bed?”

My jaw drops open. “I definitely did not throw you out of bed. You threw yourself out of bed.”

He glances around in confusion. “Yeah, I needed to check on Wren.”

“I can do it,” I say, already trying and failing to stand. Damn. My legs are really shaky. I’m not sure what that’s all about.

Holden shakes his head. “No. I’ll do it, okay? Just lie back down. I’ll be right back.”

I don’t want him to feel burdened by my inability to take care of Wren. It’s not his job to do it. He must see something in my expression because he leans in, cupping my face in his hands before planting a chaste kiss on my lips. “I want to, Jules. Relax, okay? I’ll be right back.”

I find myself nodding. I don’t want to feel like a burden, but I also can’t deny that I really don’t have any energy to get up. Holden’s here and he’s offering, and he loves Wren. I know this. I just wish my brain would get it together. “Okay. Thank you.”

He graces me with a beautiful smile. “No need to thank me. Lie back.”

I do as he asks, settling back against the bed. He pulls the blankets up around me before leaning over, surrounding me in citrus, and presses his lips to my forehead quickly. “I love you. When I get back, we’ll cuddle. Or I guess we should probably shower. Or maybe even take a bath.” He winks, which makes me feel slightly better, but not great. “Can’t lie, I’ve been eyeing that big-ass tub of yours. Think we can both fit?”

I nod. I think we probably could. “You might have to sit on my lap.”

He laughs a little under his breath. “Possibly, we’ll see.”

Then he’s heading out of the room.

While I wait for him to come back, I stare at the ceiling, slow blinking as I try to make sense of my strange feelings. I’m still blinking at the ceiling when Holden comes back into the room and shuts the door behind him. “Come on, Jules. Bath time.”

I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed, everything sort of sluggish and slow. Holden seems concerned, and I’m slightly concerned too, but I don’t really know what to do about it, if anything.

I follow him to the bathroom on legs that feel like lead weights, and sit down on the closed toilet while he fills up the tub and uses an ungodly amount of Wren’s bubble bath. The overly sweet floral scent is kind of gross, but I can’t complain too much when he’s going out of his way to be so sweet to me.

I blink when he steps in front of me, worry furrowing his brows. “Let’s hop in.”

I nod. It feels a little weird, like my head isn’t connected to the rest of my body.

Using Holden’s hand for leverage, I step over the edge of the tub and sink into the warm water. Holden watches me for a second before climbing in after me. I spread my legs so he can fit between them.

For a long while we simply stare at each other. And then for some reason, a random wave of sadness hits me. It’s… not a fun feeling and it kind of freaks me out a little bit. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me.

My eyes start to burn, and then my cheeks feel wet. It’s strange, though, because I don’t think I got any water on my face. Before I can even process what’s happening, Holden’s straddling my thighs and pulling me in to him. I press my face against his hair. He’s shaking. Hard. And I’m not sure why. “You’re shaking,” I croak out.

Holden pulls back and looks at me, even more worry splashed across his face. “No, you’re shaking. Not me.”

Oh.

His arms wrap around me as he rests his head on my shoulder. I wind my arms around him, pulling him closer. The bath is warm, but his skin is warmer and it feels like it’s melting into mine. It’s good. I like it. I need it.

In what feels like no time at all, Holden’s sitting back and looking at me. He stares at me for a few seconds, then he sighs and climbs off my lap. “Shouldn’t have used all these bubbles—can’t even wash your hair like this,” he mumbles under his breath.

I almost smile, but it won’t quite come to my lips. “You don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to. You’re always taking such good care of me. It’s my turn to take care of you.”

He doesn’t wash my hair, but he does clean the dried cum from my body and crawl back into my lap, holding me against him until the water starts getting cold. When a shiver works its way through my body, Holden sits back with a sigh. “Let’s get out, yeah? It’s cold.”

I nod and he stands, grabbing a couple of towels. When we step out of the bath, he takes his time to dry me off, even climbing onto the closed toilet seat so he can fully reach my upper back and shoulders. Then he’s climbing down and taking my hand, leading me back into the bedroom.

He grabs a pair of my sweats out of the closet and hands them to me. I put them on without a word as he slips into a pair of briefs and pulls one of my t-shirts over his head. “Back into bed,” he says, gesturing toward it.

I don’t even put up a fight. The bath about took it out of me. I’m not sure why—it’s not like it’s particularly hard to sit in a bath tub and do nothing, but I feel fucking exhausted and weak, so I do what he says and climb back onto the bed.

When he steps away, I find myself reaching out to catch his arm in my grasp. “Don’t leave,” I whisper. I don’t want to be alone. I want him to climb in here with me and plaster himself to my body the way he usually does.

He turns toward me and lays his free hand on my chest. “I’m just opening the door, so Wren can get in here when she wakes up.”

Oh. Yeah. That makes sense. I nod.

The time it takes for him to open the door feels like too much time, and also no time at all. I’m not sure how I feel about him being away from me right now, but I think I’m probably not a fan.

He settles his body on mine and tucks his head under my chin. I let my hands rest on his lower back and close my eyes, soaking in the warmth of his body and his comforting presence.

“How are you feeling?” Holden asks softly.

“Not sure really.”

He hums, bringing a hand up to run his thumb along my collarbone. It’s silent after that, apart from the sound of the clock on the wall ticking. I count each tick, tick, tick as my body grows heavy, sinking deeper into the mattress. Between the steady ticking of the clock and the feel of Holden’s thumb caressing my skin, I’m being lulled to sleep in what feels like no time at all.