Page 77 of Hold Me Tight

It’s the way he watches me out of the corner of his eye, to make sure I’m okay. The way he crouches down to help Nora with her shoes without waiting to be asked, like it’s already second nature to care for her. The way he gives me space when I need it, but never enough to make me feel like I’m alone again.

I don’t understand him.

How can a man like River, a professional athlete, confident, devastatingly handsome, capable of having any woman he wants, be this gentle?

This generous?

This present?

How is it that he’s always thinking of me?

And my daughter?

Of what we need, sometimes before I even know myself?

It’s like the weight I’ve carried around with me for years has finally been lifted.

There’s no pressure or expectation in the way he holds me.

Just warmth. A steady strength wrapped around me like a promise I’m not used to being given.

Maybe that’s why I don’t overthink it.

Why I don’t talk myself out of something that feels right.

The word just slips out. “Okay.”

River pulls back slightly, just enough to see my face. His eyes search mine with that familiar patience, like he’s not just looking for consent but for any trace of doubt I might not even know I’m carrying.

“Okay?” he echoes.

This time, I don’t hesitate. A small, nervous smile tugs at my lips as I nod. “I want you to show me.”

His brows lift slightly. “Are you sure?”

There’s a flutter of nerves beneath my ribs. The thought of him watching me do something so vulnerable sends a flush of heat across my skin, but it’s not from fear.

Not with him.

Vulnerability… yes.

But it’s so much more than that.

It’s trust.

The kind that’s deep, quiet, and steady.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Something shifts in his expression as a tender smile spreads across his face that feels dangerously close to awe. As if I’ve handed him a piece of my heart, and he knows exactly how fragile it is.

“Why don’t you take a shower and relax,” he says gently. “I’ll be here waiting when you’re done.”

With a nod, I slip from his embrace, and immediately feel the absence of his warmth.

In the bathroom, I take my time. Each piece of clothing comes off slowly, like I’m shedding old skin and letting go of all the pieces of myself that once believed I had to earn affection or prove my worth.

The tile is cool beneath my feet. Steam curls around me as I step into the shower, and the hot water rains down over my skin, soothing and cleansing all at once.