With a light push, my feet staggered in the direction of his private quarters, and when I stood stationary at the closed door, I turned my head to see Doroteya nodding. She waved her arms out and said, “You wake him.” She looked down at the small gold watch on her wrist and exclaimed somewhat dramatically, “Is almost middle of day!”
Right. Yeah. Okay.
What was wrong with me? Why was I suddenly nervous?
It was just Vik’s room. At one point, I practically lived in it. God. We spent so many hours together that, at times, Doroteya would call Vik on his cell to beg us to come up and eat.
Those were the days. We were inseparable. Two hearts beating in time.
Regrettably, I turned my back on him when he needed me the most. To be fair, he wasn’t exactly forthcoming with his circumstances. Regardless, I should have known something drastic happened for Vik’s behavior to have changed the way it did.
My biggest problem was pushing people away and then loathing them for leaving. But Vik fought. He made his intentions clear, that he wasn’t going anywhere. That he’d wait for me. And now, I worried I pushed too hard and sent him hurtling in the opposite direction when all I ever wanted was to be his person.
The one he came to with his problems. The one he loved.
The one.
He doesn’t want you, my mother whispered from the depths of hell, and weary as a person hearing voices could be, I closed my eyes a moment, willing her away.
I was getting better at disregarding the intrusions but would be lying if I said the words didn’t hit their mark once in a while. Now being one of those times.
Standing perfectly still, I rubbed absently at the spot above my heart, petting away the dull ache that persisted.
My hand went to the knob, and I turned it slowly, a soft creak sounding as the door extended all the way. I held onto the rail, taking the stairs down. It was dim. I had to squint in order to see. Luckily, the light streaming in from the hall provided a little luminescence, and I managed to make my way down without breaking my neck.
The moment I stepped onto the plush carpet with my bare feet, it hit me right in the solar plexus. I closed my eyes and lifted my nose, the scent of him surrounding me. I took in a deep, satisfying breath, absorbing it to memory.
Sure, it was delicious but nothing like getting it directly from the source. I’d spent many nights with my nose buried deeply into the crook of his neck, pressing light kisses to his pulse, feeling his abs tighten with each delicate peck.
My soft footfalls brought me closer to him, and when I got near enough, I saw him sprawled out in the middle of the bed, his comforter barely covering him at all. He lay on his stomach, breathing evenly, and a wistful smile tipped my lips.
His hair was a mess. His strong arms hugged a pillow tightly. One leg straight, the other bent at a ninety-degree angle.
It was just the way he slept. Always had been, for as long as I’d had the pleasure of sharing his bed. And I found it utterly adorable. My stupid heart found comfort in the fact that while some things had changed, others hadn’t. They might not have been important things, but they were important to me.
Quietly, I lowered myself to the edge of the bed and peered down at his still form. I just wanted to sit there a while. To be near him without argument or jealousy or pride casting a wall between us.
It was always a battle with Vik, even when we were on the same side.
We were explosive, volatile. But when we came together and the fuse lit, the flames spreading, Vik held me just out of reach of the firestorm, protectively, with the assurance I was never to be burned.
And now?
He insisted on being engulfed in the blaze when I had the ability to put the fire out completely.
It was maddening.
My loving gaze rested on his furrowed brow, and on a slow exhale, my expression turned blue. Even in slumber, he couldn’t rest peacefully.
It wasn’t a choice but a compulsion. My hand stretched, and I gently ran my fingers through his hair, hoping to offer some comfort to a man who needlessly wore the weight of the world on his shoulders.
A soft, sleepy sound escaped him. My heart ached, and I pulled back, deciding not to wake him after all. It was clear he needed the rest.
With a quiet sigh, I stood, and at the very moment I moved to walk away, I heard the covers lift. Strong arms rounded my waist, and I yelped as I was dragged down into the warm bed, under the comforter, my back held flush against the wall of muscle that was his chest.