Page 30 of Silver Linings

His hands twitch like they want to touch me, check me over to make sure I’m not hurt, maybe hug me.

I think I could use a hug. I’m about to step in and just take one from him, take what I need , what I’ve been craving ever since I told him we needed to be friends, when an officer comes over to get a statement.

I spend the next thirty minutes recounting everything that happened, filing a police report with Hendrix’s steady presence at my back.

Once done, the cops get back in their vehicle and drive away with the perp handcuffed in the back seat, glaring daggers at me.

“Can I walk you home?” He looks desperate for me to say yes, like the idea of parting with me right now might kill him. But before I can say yes, he follows up with a solemn plea. “Please.”

“Yes.” Nothing else needs to be said.

We walk the ten minutes it takes to get to The Langham in silence, close to one other but never quite touching.

When we approach the front doors, we both peer in and notice Tony sitting at his bench, watching a show on his phone.

“Sunshine, I—” he pauses, looking away from me, something like shame on his face. “I’m so sorry. This shouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t have left you tonight.” There’s guilt in his eyes, and I don’t understand why it’s there. How could he think he’s responsible for any of this?

“You only did what I asked you to do. You respected my boundaries,” I offer in his defense.

“I should have been there, insisted I stay and help you clean up.” There’s something haunted in his eyes, a panicked quality to his voice. “I just…I should have been there.”

He’s on the edge of a spiral, and I have no idea why. His body is shaking lightly, and he’s scratching at the back of his neck, rubbing his skin raw.

Stepping forward, I grab his hands and bring them down as I step forward and wrap my arms around his waist, finally stealing the hug I need, the one I suspect he needs just as much. Something to buoy us in reality.

I can feel his rapid breathing start to slow as I bury my face in his chest, listening to his heartbeat start to level out before I pull away. We’re staring at each other, my stomach in my throat. The fear from the evening is starting to ebb, but I don’t want him to leave, not yet.

“Will you stay with me tonight? I just…I don’t want to be alone after that.”

His eyes dance back and forth as he looks at me, and then I see him glance behind me to where Tony sits. Tony, his coworker. Because he works here, and I’m a tenant, and this is not allowed. A fact I conveniently like to forget.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have ask?—”

“Yes,” he cuts me off.

“But…” I glance over my shoulder, and he reads my meaning.

“It’ll be fine. Let’s go.”

We step inside, and a smile lights up Tony’s face until he takes the both of us in, dirty and scraped and a little worse for wear.

Hendrix leans towards me and says low enough that only I can hear, “Go on up. I’m going to talk to Tony quickly, and I’ll meet you up there.”

“Okay.” I make my way over to the elevators and step into the car. He watches me and doesn’t look away until the doors close.

Five minutes later, there’s a knock on my door.

I swing it open, and the sight of him standing on the threshold is so reminiscent of the first time, it gives me whiplash.

We stare at each other as he steps into my apartment.

He slowly, tentatively, reaches his hand up to tuck my hair behind my ear, and I lean my head into the touch like an affectionate cat, allowing myself this one comfort after a hellish night. But when he pulls away, I notice the scrapes and blood across his knuckles.

“Does it hurt?” I grab onto his palm.

“It’s fine, Sunshine. Don’t worry about me.”

But I do. I can’t not .

With my hand still holding his, I lead him into my bathroom, where I keep my first aid kit.

“Sit,” I command, and he obeys, slowly lowering himself down onto the closed top of my toilet seat.

This bathroom is too small for the two of us, and I need to not think about how I can feel his body heat if I’m going to effectively fix his injuries.

I reach under the cabinet and pull out the medical supplies, setting out what I’ll need on the countertop.

Stepping between his legs, I pull his hand back into mine, inspecting the cuts for any gravel or debris.

I can feel his eyes on my face, watching me , not what I’m doing.

Relieved when I don’t find anything that needs to be extracted, I work to clean and disinfect the cuts, apply a thin layer of healing salve, and set his hand down before taking a step back.

“There. All good.”

He looks at me briefly before he stands. “Why don’t you hop in the shower, and I’ll make you some tea?”

I don’t know how to respond to this level of care, and I’m fairly certain I’m gaping like a fish, because he just smirks and leans around me to turn on the shower before he leaves me to it.

There’s nothing else to do but comply, and, honestly, it was the right call.

Nothing could feel better than the warm water beating down on my back, washing away the horrors of the evening.

Once I’m done, I step out and change into my coziest pajamas, towel dry my hair, and head into the kitchen, where Hendrix has just finished making me a chamomile tea and a sandwich.

God, he really doesn’t make this easy, does he?

I take them from him, scanning him head to toe to assure myself he’s alright.

“It just dawned on me that you don’t have any sleep clothes. I’m sorry. You don’t have to stay.”

He looks me squarely in the eyes. “I’m staying. It’s as much for your comfort as it is for me to have peace of mind.”

I gulp down another bite of sandwich. “Oh.”

The deep timbre of his chuckle makes my body flare with warmth.

I finish my food, feeling unsteady as my thoughts drift back to how a good night was tainted by one person’s actions. Then, I notice my broken necklace on the entry table by the door, and I lose it.

All composure has left as I start to cry quietly.

Hendrix wastes no time wrapping his arms around me, letting me bury my head in his chest as he holds me to him, stroking my spine in a soothing rhythm. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

I swallow thickly as I look up at him, tears hanging off my lashes.

“My dad gave it to me before he died. He was going to steal it from me, and I panicked, and nothing else mattered.” A fat tear falls hot on my cheek as he reaches a hand up and brushes it away.

“You still have it. He’s with you.” I nod and drop my head back to his chest. “Let’s get you into bed.” He leads me into my bedroom, and it feels weirdly normal, natural, even. That’s almost as terrifying as the rest of the evening.

Setting my drink on the side table, he peels back my covers and motions for me to get inside. When he moves to leave, I panic, shooting my arm out to stop his retreat.

“Where are you going?”

“I was going to give you space, sleep on the couch.” He’s so goddamn chivalrous, and while the thought of his hulking frame squished onto my tiny pink couch makes me want to smile, I don’t want him to go.

“Please,” I plead, desperate and needy, “stay in here with me.”

Whatever he sees in my eyes is enough to convince him, because he just nods and makes his way to the other side of the bed, kicking off his shoes and getting under the covers with me.

I turn off the bedside light so he won’t see the embarrassment tinting my cheeks beet red.

My bed is small, and Hendrix is a tall man, so this arrangement puts us in startlingly close proximity. I shift onto my side, facing him, to afford us more room. He stays on his back but turns his head to look over at me.

“You came back for me.” It’s something so innocuous to most, even he couldn’t possibly realize what something like that would do to me. The girl no one came back for.

“I’ll always come for you,” he states, so gentle and confident.

In the darkness of my bedroom, with only the moon peeking through the curtains to bear witness, I break my own rules as I lean over to his side of the bed and press my lips against his.

The kiss is warm and tender, and it slowly fixes a part of my broken soul I previously thought irreparable. He doesn’t take more than I give, and when I disconnect a few moments later, I don’t fully retreat back to my side of the bed before falling asleep.