“He wanted to come in,” I continued. “He wanted to fuck. He thought I did, too. He … he said I didn’t care he was married. That I wanted it too much. He was wanting to pick back up where we left off.” I shook my head against his jaw and wrapped my hand around Jamie’s ribs. “I would never do that. I wouldn’t.”

“Motherfucker,” he snarled from above me. “He’s dead.”

“I felt you and then I felt him, and I—”

Jamie shoved me back, lifted my chin, and stared deep into my eyes, questioning with a low, grating, scary voice, “He touch you?”

I blinked, studying his hardened face. I’d never seen Jamie look like this before. He looked like rage. He looked a little crazy.

And he looked absolutely beautiful.

“Babe,” he pressed, when I kept on studying and forgot his question.

“Mm?”

He dipped closer, punctuating each word he spoke. “Did. He. Touch. You?”

I swallowed, staring back at blue eyes burning. “Not really. Just …” I slid my hand down his side and grabbed his smooth hip. “Like this. Where you did.”

His jaw clenched. He exhaled through his nostrils, flaring them. “He do anythin’ else?” he asked, staying close and keeping his fingers on my face.

“Just said those things,” I replied, my bottom lip trembling and my eyes filling up fast. “Those awful things that are not true. They’re not. I would never want him knowing he was married. I wouldn’t.” I started crying again. “I’m not like that. I swear I’m not. Even though I loved him, I wouldn’t. I never would’ve let him in. Never.” I dropped my head to his chest and sobbed, “I thought it was you. That’s why I answered.”

Jamie’s body stiffened and snapped straight. He made a noise deep in his throat like he was in as much pain as I was, then he bent down, slid one arm around my waist and the other under my knees, and lifted, cradling me against his chest.

“Should’ve been me,” he mumbled against the top of my head, turning us and then walking across the room.

We started ascending the stairs.

I held his neck with one hand and cried with my face tucked under his chin. My eyes were swollen closed. I felt exhausted. Heart and body. I had shed my weight in tears.

Jamie carried me as if that were true.

When we reached the top, Jamie took me six more steps and then he kicked a door open.

The room was dark. He didn’t turn on the light.

My lashes fluttered when I felt soft satin beneath me. It felt cool against the back of my calves.

I was in Jamie’s bed.

I turned my head on the pillow and smelled sunlight and water. I watched through half-opened eyes. I was crying much softer now.

Jamie pulled back the covers, dropped his knee to the bed, and then leaned closer to peel the sheets down underneath me, wiggling them under my bottom and flipping them up and over my feet. Then he climbed in and lay on his side, facing me, tucked his arm under the pillow he was using and with his other pulled and rolled me away from him, putting us back to front.

He pulled the covers over us both.

It felt familiar, lying with him like this, even though we had never done this before. But I was too tired to question it or fight. And maybe I felt safe, cared for, protected, so I didn’t want to fight it. I had been fighting it enough. And this felt nice.

Jamie kept his arm over me after he was settled and wrapped his hand around my wrist. He pressed his lips to the skin between my neck and shoulder.

“Sleep, Legs,” he ordered.

“’Kay,” I replied, blinking the darkness into view.

I pictured Wes standing on my porch. I felt his hand press to my hip.

“He won’t be botherin’ you again,” Jamie promised.

I stopped blinking. The images in my mind evaporated and the only thing I felt was Jamie’s body. His mouth next to my ear and his fingers holding gentle pressure on my arm.

He was steady at my back. He was strong. He was holding me like this mattered and meant something.

And he was promising again.

Knowing the history of Jamie’s promises to me and how he carried them through, each and every one, I closed my eyes and drifted with a clear head.

I’d start thinking again tomorrow.

Chapter Ten

JAMIE

Need you to swing by this morning before heading in. Bring Sunshine.

What’s up?

Got her girl here.

She all right?

Will be.

Shit. This serious? Syd will want to know.

Nothing I can’t handle. Just need to get some info from her.

What’s this got to do with?

You asking for you or your girl?

It’s involving Syd. I’m asking for me.

Tori’s ex showed up at her place last night. Upset her. She came to me.

Fuck.

Yeah.

Know what all went down with them. Be there by 8.

I set my phone on the kitchen island after reading Dash’s last text, then I walked over to the couch and snatched the towel off the back of it, rubbing it across my head and drying off as I made for the stairs.

I didn’t want to get out of bed this morning. Not with the way Tori was pressing close and letting me hold her, doing that all night and not fighting it, just feeling. Rolling into me a few times with her hand on my chest or wrapping around my ribs, legs tangled with mine, head tucked under my chin and her breath on my neck. Or staying turned away but keeping a grip on my arm that was draped over her, locking us together.