Page 63 of Mended Fences

His jaw clenched, but instead of the anger I expected, he just reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. The gentleness of it nearly broke me.

“You haven’t asked,” I said finally, watching his face. “About what happened.”

He set the empty glass aside and settled on the floor near my feet, close enough that I could feel his warmth but not so close as to make me feel trapped. “Figured you’d tell me if you wanted to.”

“But you asked Tessa.”

His shoulders tensed. “Yeah. Because every time I look at you, I see those bruises from the hotel. I see your fingers now.” He gestured toward my splinted hand. “I want to hunt that bastard down and—” He cut himself off, raking a hand through his hair. “But that’s not what you need, is it?”

Without thinking, I slid down to sit beside him, our shoulders touching. He went very still, like he was afraid any movement might scare me away. But for the first time in years, I didn’t feel scared. I felt... anchored.

“No, it’s not what I need,” I said softly, letting my head rest against his shoulder.

His arm came around me carefully, giving me plenty of time to pull away. When I didn’t, he drew me closer, his chin resting on top of my head. We sat like that for a long moment, just breathing together.

“Then what do you need, Elena?” The words rumbled through his chest where I was pressed against him. “Because I’m flying blind here, and I’m scared shitless of fucking this up.”

The admission cost him—I could see it in the way he wouldn’t meet my eyes, in how his hand clenched at his side. Chase Everton, who acted so confident, so sure of himself, was terrified of making a wrong move.

Just like I was.

“I need...” The words stuck in my throat. “I need to know that when I do tell you everything, you won’t...”

“Won’t what?”

“Won’t look at me different. Won’t see me as broken.”

He started to reach for me, then stopped himself. “Elena?—”

A car door slammed outside, and I flinched hard enough to rattle the empty kitchen cabinets. Chase lifted from his spot on the floor just enough to peer out the window.

“Just the neighbor,” he said softly.

I nodded, trying to slow my racing heart. This was exactly what I was afraid of—being seen as damaged, jumping at shadows.

But when Chase turned back to me, there was no pity in his eyes. Just that same intensity I remembered from the hotel, like I was something precious he wanted to protect but didn’t quite know how.

“I see you,” he said roughly. “Not what he did to you. Just you.”

For that moment, caught in Chase’s fierce gaze, I let myself believe him.

I let myself hope.

Chase startedto stand from his spot on the floor, but I caught his wrist. “Wait.”

He stilled instantly, those blue eyes finding mine. The touch of his skin under my fingers sent electricity up my arm, and suddenly I couldn’t remember what I’d wanted to say. All I could think about was that day in my hotel room, his hands gentle on my body, his mouth...

“Elena.” His voice was rough, warning. Like he knew exactly where my thoughts had gone.

I should’ve let go of his wrist. I should’ve done anything except what I actually did, which was lean forward until I could feel his breath on my lips.

“What are you doing, Sweetness?” The nickname came out barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know.” It was honest, at least. After months of careful planning, of documenting everything, of knowing exactly what my next move would be... this wasn’t part of any plan. This was just want, pure and simple.

His free hand came up to cup my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone. “You sure about this?”

Instead of answering, I closed the distance between us.