“Hey.”
“I’m—”
“Don’t say you’re sorry. You never have to be sorry about showing your emotions with me. I’m here for you.”
“You really are,” she murmured in wonder.
I stood, taking her with me.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re going to bed. You need to sleep, and I need to keep holding you for a while.”
“I’m too heavy—”
Again, I cut her off.
“No,” I stated firmly. “You aren’t.”
Ronan and Beth were sitting on the sofa, talking as we went in. Beth looked startled and began to stand, but I shook my head and kept walking. I knew Paige wouldn’t want Beth to see her so upset. I carried Paige to the bathroom and set her on her feet.
“I’ll be waiting.”
In her room, I pulled back the blankets and sat on the bed, wondering how to convince her to let me buy her a bigger, more comfortable one. I heard Ronan and Beth head downstairs, no doubt to give us some privacy, and a few moments later, Paige came into her room, looking tired and worn out, already wearing a long nightshirt, the material thin. I held out my hand, and she let me tug her close. “Eeyore?” I asked with a grin, tracing over the faded image.
“From Evan a few years ago. Beth took him shopping at Christmas. He picked it. He says I look like this in the mornings before coffee.”
I chuckled. “Brothers—even added ones. Always the same.”
I patted the mattress, and she sat against the headboard, looking at me nervously. I sat across from her, our knees pressed together.
“Do you trust me, Paige?”
“Yes.”
“Have I ever been anything but truthful with you?”
“No. You’re a very honest person.”
“I want to do a little word readjustment.”
“Word readjustment?”
“Yes.” I tapped her forehead. “I want to get rid of some of the words you have up here.” At her frown, I added, “Just a few.”
“Okay?” she said, making it sound more like a question.
“Your ex—he called you heavy?”
She swallowed. “Yes.”
“I call you curvy. Perfect.” I paused. “Far better words. And the truth. See? Like that. Hit me with another word he liked to use.”
“Plain.”
“Beautiful.” Emphasizing my reply, I lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles.
“Slow and lazy.”
“Methodical,” I corrected, pressing her hand to my cheek.
“Stupid and boring.”
“Intelligent and cautious,” I insisted, placing a kiss to her palm.
“Gullible.”
“Kindhearted.”
“Weak.”
“Strong. Holy shit, baby, so strong,” I replied steadfastly.
She dragged in a long breath. “Frigid and unresponsive.”
I shook my head furiously. “Passionate and sexy. You walk in the room, I get a boner. Thinking about us together, I get a hard-on in the truck. I swear to God, he’s trying to take the wheel. It’s quite embarrassing.”
Her lips twitched, and I knew she was starting to relax.
“Your ex probably had a dick the size of my thumb,” I added. “And no idea how to use it.”
Her eyes widened, and I saw the flare of amusement in them. I also saw how tired she looked, and I knew I had made my point. But she spoke again.
“Placid,” she said.
“Wrong again. Sweet.” I held up my finger. “Also, a lake in New York. Nice place, I hear. As well as a famous opera singer.” I pursed my lips. “Or maybe that was Plácido. I always get them confused.”
She bit back her smile. “Wan.”
I didn’t even bother to correct that one. “Ah, the beloved ruler of coffee. Wan Valdez. A favorite of mine.”
That did it. She let out a little giggle, the sound making me grin.
“Does this mean we’re done?” she asked.
I met her eyes. “For now. As long as you believe me. He was a walking pack of lies and hate. I want to take every nasty word he said and replace it with a positive one until they’re all gone. I’ve got all night.” I crossed my legs. “Rest of my life, too.”
“You’ve made your point. I do believe you.”
“Then stop letting that voice—his voice—influence you. You are amazing, Paige. If you were any of those things he accused you of being, you would have crumbled. You didn’t. You pushed forward, and you have a wonderful little girl as awesome as you are. Good friends. Someone who is crazy about you and sees everything good and right in you. So does Beth. Ronan. My entire family. Pretty sure that outranks the asshole who walked away from you.”
Her eyes were round. “It does.”
“Let it go. Let everything he said go. Listen to me. Listen to my voice. Don’t disregard my compliments when they’re heartfelt and real. I think you’re so close to perfect, it’s scary.”
A smile played on her lips, the heaviness of the past while starting to lift. It had with every response I had made to her whispered confessions. It was as if I were wiping them away one by one. “Close to?” she teased.
“Well, aside from the snoring and the babbling when nervous.”