“Feeling like I did in Phoenix.”
Winnie sighed quietly. “You’re not in Phoenix. Saint isn’t Playboy. He killed the Devils back there. I want to say Saint is a good man, but I don’t know him. I just know if he wanted to hurt you, I don’t think he’d do it this way.”
“It’s not him. He’s very patient. Well he teases me, but not in a mean way.”
“Just be honest. You said you could be honest with him, so just tell him you’re feeling weird and might not be able to sleep in the bed tonight.”
“Why is she sleeping in the same bed?” Dylan asked.
“Tell your husband to shut up.”
“Yeah, I’m not doing that,” Winnie said. “Go deal with your fears. You need rest and I need you to go to sleep, so you can wake up and call me to say what happened.”
“Love you.” I whispered.
“Love you too. You’re so strong, Harlow. You can do this.”
Hanging up, I checked my appearance and found a freaked out little girl looking back at me. Unimpressed, I left the bathroom and found the bed empty, yet the TV still on.
The TV was also playing in the living room where I found Saint sitting. He glanced back at me.
“I don’t believe in following flawed plans,” he said, stretching his arms out along the back of the couch.
“Do you want me to leave?”
Saint’s hypnotic expression answered my question. “Go get comfortable in bed first. Watch TV. Chill out. Maybe lose ten layers of clothes so you don’t die of heat exhaustion overnight. Once you’re solid, I’ll join you.”
I just stared at him, feeling like the kid I saw in the mirror.
“I won’t enter a packed elevator,” Saint said, watching TV. “Can’t stand that feeling of so many people stuck in a small place. Bugs me. I could overcome that fear, but never saw the point. I’d rather wait for the next elevator or take the stairs. Life is too short to obsess over the little things.”
Understanding his meaning, I returned to the bedroom. I also removed the robe since I was sweating like crazy. The bed didn’t look so intimidating without Saint in it. I crawled under the covers and adjusted to the feel of a different mattress.
I smelled a hint of Saint’s soap on the sheets and the urge to run returned. Both craving and hating the way Saint made my body feel, I rested in bed and waited for him to return. One episode of Psych ended and another started, but I remained alone in bed.
Despite my frayed nerves, I began to doze. My eyes were half closed when the TV and light went off in the living room. Too tired to focus, I barely caught sight of Saint as he joined me in bed.
Saying nothing, he rested on the blankets and stared at the TV. When he glanced at me, I smiled proudly. Never thought I would share a bed with a man after knowing him only twenty four hours. Hell, I didn’t want to share a bed with a man I knew for a lifetime.
Saint was different and he made me crave new things. Somehow, he knew how to push me hard enough to make me stronger without knocking me down.
Chapter Fourteen ~ Saint
Surviving Mexico came down to never giving up. Sounded easy enough, but giving up was the natural choice when the future felt hopeless. In prison, I evolved rather than break down. My first lesson was retaining my control even when wanting to destroy the world.
Watching Harlow sleep, I lacked control. My fingers grazed her hair then hand before nearly reaching for her lips. I pulled away before waking Harlow from a soft sleep.
Even knowing I should create a little distance, I remained where I was and watched her. Harlow looked so beautiful as the TV’s light flickered against her young face. She was flawless even with the walls hiding her heart. I had the urge to take a sledgehammer to her barriers until I knew every part of her. The only problem was Harlow wanted to do the same with me.
After the ride home from the barbecue, she asked me my mother’s name and where I’d grown up. I claimed the answers put us both at risk because I was a man with enemies. Harlow nodded? pretending to understand, but she still wanted to know.
Wanting to tell her too, I imagined us talking like real people. Hours after she slept, I dozed off with my hand placed gently over hers. My waking thought was to take Harlow to the tree behind my family’s home in Birmingham. I’d tell her about how I’d spent my summers climbing it. When imagining a future with Harlow, I slept without suffering memories of Mexico for the first time in months.
I slept quietly for two hours before waking to a woman’s scream. Startled, I found Harlow staring wide-eyed. While she hadn’t screamed, the cry felt nearby.
“I’ll handle it,” I told her.