He readjusted his hold to free one hand. Then he smoothed it down the side of my face, tucking my hair behind my ear. I heard him say, his voice coming through his chest to me, “She needs rest. I’m thinking this breakdown was bound to happen.”
Then, with a soft murmur for my ears only, he whispered, “I won’t leave you.” He turned and left. He headed to my room and laid me down on the bed. When he straightened and started to leave, I acted on impulse. I wasn’t thinking.
I reached for his hand.
He stopped, looked down. “Sheldon,” he started, the struggle obvious on his face.
I tugged on his hand again. “I don’t care.” I should’ve. But I didn’t. “Stay with me. I don’t want to be alone.”
I didn’t want to be alone with Grace. As he gave in and crawled to lay behind me, I held onto him as he rested an arm over me. Corrigan was my shelter. He always had been. A part of me knew this was wrong. I shouldn’t be using him this way, but I needed someone with me. I had to.
“Grace,” I whispered, closing my eyes, and settling farther down in the bed.
“Mmm?” Corrigan lifted his head.
“Nothing.” I cleared my throat. “Nothing.”
But I felt her.
I had a feeling she wasn’t going anywhere.
CHAPTER TWELVE
When I awoke, Corrigan wasn’t beside me. I frowned. The bed felt vacant, but I had slept with him for so many nights before, when I only wanted to be held and comforted.
Knock, knock.
I lifted my head at the door. That’s what had awoken me.
Knock, knock.
It came again. Sitting up in bed, I gazed around, saw the darkness outside the window and wondered how long I had been sleeping.
“Sheldon?”
It was Bryce. Hurrying to the door, I opened it, but looked around behind me. Was Corrigan in the bathroom? Should it matter? But it did. Bryce had lifted his hand for another knock. He lowered it, his eyes penetrating mine as he asked, so soft and so damn tenderly, “You okay?”
Normally I would lie. “No.” I didn’t this time.
He nodded, his face clouded with concern and wariness. He cleared his throat. “Is Corrigan with you?”
My eyes flung back to him. He knew. I swallowed back a small amount of guilt, raking my fingers through my hair. “He was. I—” How did I put this? How could I explain it? “I needed someone and—”
Bryce nodded, finishing for me, “I know.”
I hadn’t asked for him. That unspoken message seemed to hang between us, and I felt how heavy the atmosphere turned. Shit. I caught the hurt in his eyes. I reached out, again not thinking, and touched his arm. He didn’t move back, but he didn’t take my hand in his. I hadn’t wanted him to. I just wanted to reassure him. So I said, “Corrigan’s been there for me. You know this. After Marcus—” I stumbled on my words. My cheeks flushed. What was wrong with me?
“Sheldon,” Bryce squeezed my hand, lifting it from his arm, but he let it go. It fell back to my side. “I understand. I really do.”
Did he? He didn’t think he was needed. I read that thought and surged across the space between us, or I started to. I stopped. Fear slammed me back.
I was scared of reaching out to Bryce. I was scared of comforting him, of telling him . . . what? I had no idea. I finally just admitted, “I want to come to you. I do, but my feelings are locked inside me. Corrigan’s always been there for me. I’m not saying you haven’t, except about Guadalupe, but that’s partly me. I pushed you away. I left you for him. Screwing another girl, I can’t really get mad at you for that, but . . .”
“Sheldon,” he started again, pointing down the hallway.
“I’m sorry.” I needed to feel vulnerable. I needed to peel open my doors and let whatever happened happen, but that’s what I was fighting against. Not Bryce. Just whatever would happen when I did that.
I didn’t want to feel vulnerable. That’s all I was now.