Savior

“Nineteen.”

Erik gave a single nod and his shoulders relaxed. “At least you’re of legal age,” he muttered before pointing across the room and speaking louder. “That’s obviously the dining room and if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you upstairs and to your room.

The stairs didn’t have a railing and I kept myself pressed to the wall, imagining one wrong move would send me over the edge. Thankfully when we reached the top, a half wall guarded the second floor. My toes sank into a plush carpet with each step I took down the hallway.

“This is my home office,” he said, pointing to the first door. He moved a bit further before opening the second door. “This room is where you can stay tonight. The last two doors are the media room and my room.”

I glanced around and took in the bland, but beautiful furnishings. It looked exactly like a hotel suite with minimal decorations and muted gray colors.

“That is your bathroom.” He pointed to an open door. “It also opens to the hallway.”

I stood in the middle of the luxurious space, my eyes looking over every inch, overwhelmed by the night. A knot was rising up my throat and I worried that if I opened my mouth, my stress would come spewing out.

“You can shower and I’ll order some dinner. Is there anything you don’t like or any allergies you may have?”

“No,” I choked out. When he turned to leave, I swallowed hard and forced my vocal cords to work. “I didn’t get a chance to grab anything.”

He looked over his shoulder and scanned me from head to toe. “I’ll be right back.”

My feet remained rooted in the same spot, sinking into the carpet, afraid to move and dirty the pristine room. He returned a moment later and handed me clothes. “Thank you.”

Another nod and then he was gone.

I showered quickly, not wanting to appear like a glutton. I didn’t want to look like I was taking advantage of his hospitality. I did my best to wash away the night, but it clung to me. In this opulent glass shower, my whole life clung to me, like a dirty cloak reminding me how out of place I was. I didn’t belong here.

When I stepped out of the room, whether I belonged or not didn’t matter. The aroma of food hit me and my stomach protested any thought of not being here. I self-consciously tugged at the black boxer briefs he’d given me as I walked down the hall. I’d had to roll them a few times to fit my waist, but it made them shorter, almost disappearing under the white undershirt that smelled of lemon and sandalwood. I wondered if the scent came from his detergent or maybe just the man himself.

“Are you coming?” he asked without looking up from serving heaps of pasta on pristine white plates.

I jerked softly at the question, not realizing he’d noticed me hesitating at the top of the stairs.

“I’d prefer you to eat with me so I can ask a few questions.”

Heat crept in my cheeks, embarrassed that I’d come off as rude or ungrateful. Swallowing, I kept my shoulder pressed to the wall and made my way down the stairs. He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes dropping to my bare legs, lingering, making me feel more naked than I was.

“Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the cream chair across from his. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I put a little of everything.”

My brows rose to my hairline as I looked down at the three kinds of pasta, chicken, asparagus, mashed potatoes, and meatballs. It barely fit on the plate. “Thank you.”

“What can I get you to drink?”

“Water is fine.”

He came back with a pitcher of water and filled both glasses, but drank from his beer bottle before even touching his water. We ate in silence for a while and I did my best to not shove the food in my mouth like an animal. When was the last time I’d had a meal with protein and vegetables? Before my mom died. And even then, we’d scrimped and had to watch what we spent on groceries.

“Where’s your family?” he asked, finally breaking the silence. “Other than your sister.”

I swallowed my bite and peeked up from under my lashes. I’d been scared to look up and see what I’d find in his eyes, so I kept mine glued to my plate.

“Dead.”

His beer paused halfway to his mouth. “I’m sorry to hear that. Even extended family?”

“I’m not really sure,” I said, shrugging. “My parents separated when we were young and my father took us back to Ireland. He died when I was ten and we used what little money was left to us to be sent back to our mom. We didn’t have anyone in Ireland besides some of my dad’s friends. If we had aunts and uncles, we never knew about it.” Taking a breath, I decided to get the whole story out in one go rather than having him drag it out question by question. “My mom died two years ago of a drug overdose. Leah was just old enough to claim me.”