“I’ve got you,” he said grimly, carrying me with brisk, powerful strides. He took me to the toilet and tossed up the seat. Kneeling beside me, he held my hair back as I heaved, his warm hand stroking up and down my spine.
“Shh . . . angel,” he murmured, over and over. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”
When my stomach was empty, I flushed the toilet and rested my sweat-drenched face on my forearm, trying to focus on anything but the remnants of my dream.
“Baby girl.”
I turned my head to find Cary standing in the threshold of my bathroom, his handsome face marred by a frown. He was fully dressed in loose jeans and a henley, which made me aware that Gideon was fully dressed, too. He’d lost the suit earlier when we’d first come back to my apartment, but he wasn’t wearing the sweats he had put on then. Instead he was in jeans and a black T-shirt.
Disoriented by their appearances, I glanced at my watch and saw it was just after midnight. “What are you guys doing?”
“I was just coming in,” Cary said. “And caught up with Cross on his way up.”
I looked at Gideon, whose concerned frown matched my roommate’s. “You went out?”
Gideon helped me to my feet. “I told you I had some things to take care of.”
Until midnight? “What things?”
“It’s not important.”
I shrugged out of his hold and went to the sink to brush my teeth. Another secret. How many did he have?
Cary appeared at my elbow, his gaze meeting mine in the reflection of my vanity mirror. “You haven’t had a bad dream in a long time.”
Looking into his worried green eyes, I let him see how worn down I was.
He gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll take it easy this weekend. Recharge. We both need it. You gonna be all right tonight?”
“I’ve got her.” Gideon straightened from his perch on the lip of my bathtub, where he’d taken off his boots.
“That doesn’t mean I’m not here.” Cary pressed a quick kiss to my temple. “Holler if you need me.”
The look he gave me before he left the room spoke volumes—he wasn’t comfortable with Gideon sleeping over. Truth was, I had some reservations, too. I thought my lingering wariness over Gideon’s sleep disorder was contributing a lot to my wild emotional state. As Cary had recently said, the man I loved was a ticking time bomb, and I shared a bed with him.
I rinsed out my mouth and dropped my toothbrush back into its holder. “I need a shower.”
I’d taken one before I crashed, but now I felt dirty again. Cold sweat clung to my skin and when I closed my eyes, I could smell him—Nathan—on me.
Gideon turned on the water, then started stripping, blessedly distracting me with the sight of his gloriously tight body. His muscles were hard and well defined, his build lean yet powerful and elegant.
I left my clothes where they fell and stepped beneath the steamy spray with a groan. He entered the stall behind me, brushing my hair aside and pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “How are you?”
“Better.” Because you’re near.
His arms wrapped carefully around my waist and he released a shaky exhalation. “I . . . Jesus, Eva. Were you dreaming about Nathan?”
I took a deep breath. “Maybe one day we’ll talk about our dreams, huh?”
He inhaled sharply, his fingertips flexing against my hip. “It’s like that, is it?”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “It’s like that.”
We stood there for a long moment, surrounded by steam and secrets, physically close yet emotionally distant. I hated it. The urge to cry was overwhelming and I didn’t fight it. It felt good to get it out. All the pressure of the long day seemed to flow out of me as I sobbed.
“Angel . . .” Gideon pressed into my back, his arms tight around my waist, soothing me with the protective shield of his big body. “Don’t cry . . . God. I can’t take it. Tell me what you need, angel. Tell me what I can do.”
“Wash it away,” I whispered, leaning into him, needing the comfort of his tender possessiveness. My fingers laced with his against my stomach. “Make me clean.”
“You are.”