“Did you want something?” He waved at the built-ins. “A shirt to sleep in?”
“I mean inside,” she said, stepping closer to lay a hand over his heart where it beat too fast. The touch seared his skin through his sweater. “Here. Do you hurt here?” Her gaze drilled into his to dig at old wounds and soothe recent ones.
He choked back the immediate rush of emotions that constricted his throat. Of course he hurt, damn it. They all did. Was he that much of an ass that she had to ask him? He stepped around her, his anger clutched tightly. Anything he said would come out wrong.
“Noah?” She grabbed his arm, her grip tightening when he glared at her. “It’s okay to admit it.”
“What?” He yanked his arm free. “You think I need your approval to feel pain? To know what sorrow is? Trust me. I don’t. I know exactly what it feels like to lose someone you love. I know how it rips your heart out and leaves you empty.” He fisted the material covering his heart. “I know all of this, so you don’t have to tell me it’s okay to hurt.”
Her eyes were wide, but she didn’t back away. Not even an inch. And in her expression was the compassion he’d failed to give her.
Oh, God. He stepped back, appalled by his actions.
I
am an ass
. Disgust clenched at his chest with its sick bite of truth. Misery sucked the strength from his legs and he sank to the bed to bury his face in his hands. Those were his ghosts, his crosses to bear. Not hers or anyone else’s. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice coarse from the grit in his throat. “You didn’t deserve that.”
“I get it,” she responded just as softly. “We’re all hurting.”
“That’s an excuse,” he bit out, rubbing at his temples. “It doesn’t justify me yelling at you.”
There was a touch to his shoulder, and he squeezed his eyes closed against the tide of warmth that rushed through him. She ran her hand down his arm, a trail of goose bumps following it. Every nerve ending was aware of her again. Of her standing before him, kneeling, grasping his wrists.
He swallowed, afraid to look. He could admit that to himself. His muscles ached under the strain to hold still. No one had kneeled at his feet since Beth. Not even at The Den, where he avoided the dungeon or any submissive who tried to get his attention.
Now Liv was here, unintentionally doing the one thing that would break him. If he lifted his head, would he see Beth’s face? Remember how she’d been? How much she’d needed him? How he’d failed her?
“You can cry,” she said, her voice cracking on the words, her hands trailing down from his wrists to stop at his thighs. “Then I can, too.”
Shit. He clenched his teeth against the need to let go. To let the dam burst free on everything he’d been holding back, but he didn’t know if he’d survive if he did. His jaw throbbed, his teeth protested and it was all for nothing when her soft sniff reached him.
He couldn’t deny her. Not the comfort she sought or the refuge she offered. He forced himself to open his eyes, lift his head and see the woman before him. It wasn’t Beth at all. Not the warm brown eyes or the vulnerability stuffed behind the indomitable will or the red lip that quivered between the teeth that held it. This was Liv.
Strong, giving Liv.
With a trembling hand, he guided her head to his lap and let the dam shatter with everything else in his life.
* * *
Liv clung to Noah as her tears fell. The ones she’d tried to suppress and control all day pooled from her eyes to roll down her cheeks. Instead of the gush of remorse she’d expected, there was only a silent slide of grief. It drained from her in a slow siphon that bled the wretched day from her bones.
Noah’s hold on her nape was warm and solid, like the leg beneath her cheek and the press of his other hand on her back. He was alive. Here. He’d been there for her all day, like she’d been for him. An unlikely pairing, but he’d become
“I mean inside,” she said, stepping closer to lay a hand over his heart where it beat too fast. The touch seared his skin through his sweater. “Here. Do you hurt here?” Her gaze drilled into his to dig at old wounds and soothe recent ones.
He choked back the immediate rush of emotions that constricted his throat. Of course he hurt, damn it. They all did. Was he that much of an ass that she had to ask him? He stepped around her, his anger clutched tightly. Anything he said would come out wrong.
“Noah?” She grabbed his arm, her grip tightening when he glared at her. “It’s okay to admit it.”
“What?” He yanked his arm free. “You think I need your approval to feel pain? To know what sorrow is? Trust me. I don’t. I know exactly what it feels like to lose someone you love. I know how it rips your heart out and leaves you empty.” He fisted the material covering his heart. “I know all of this, so you don’t have to tell me it’s okay to hurt.”
Her eyes were wide, but she didn’t back away. Not even an inch. And in her expression was the compassion he’d failed to give her.
Oh, God. He stepped back, appalled by his actions.
I
am an ass
. Disgust clenched at his chest with its sick bite of truth. Misery sucked the strength from his legs and he sank to the bed to bury his face in his hands. Those were his ghosts, his crosses to bear. Not hers or anyone else’s. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice coarse from the grit in his throat. “You didn’t deserve that.”
“I get it,” she responded just as softly. “We’re all hurting.”
“That’s an excuse,” he bit out, rubbing at his temples. “It doesn’t justify me yelling at you.”
There was a touch to his shoulder, and he squeezed his eyes closed against the tide of warmth that rushed through him. She ran her hand down his arm, a trail of goose bumps following it. Every nerve ending was aware of her again. Of her standing before him, kneeling, grasping his wrists.
He swallowed, afraid to look. He could admit that to himself. His muscles ached under the strain to hold still. No one had kneeled at his feet since Beth. Not even at The Den, where he avoided the dungeon or any submissive who tried to get his attention.
Now Liv was here, unintentionally doing the one thing that would break him. If he lifted his head, would he see Beth’s face? Remember how she’d been? How much she’d needed him? How he’d failed her?
“You can cry,” she said, her voice cracking on the words, her hands trailing down from his wrists to stop at his thighs. “Then I can, too.”
Shit. He clenched his teeth against the need to let go. To let the dam burst free on everything he’d been holding back, but he didn’t know if he’d survive if he did. His jaw throbbed, his teeth protested and it was all for nothing when her soft sniff reached him.
He couldn’t deny her. Not the comfort she sought or the refuge she offered. He forced himself to open his eyes, lift his head and see the woman before him. It wasn’t Beth at all. Not the warm brown eyes or the vulnerability stuffed behind the indomitable will or the red lip that quivered between the teeth that held it. This was Liv.
Strong, giving Liv.
With a trembling hand, he guided her head to his lap and let the dam shatter with everything else in his life.
* * *
Liv clung to Noah as her tears fell. The ones she’d tried to suppress and control all day pooled from her eyes to roll down her cheeks. Instead of the gush of remorse she’d expected, there was only a silent slide of grief. It drained from her in a slow siphon that bled the wretched day from her bones.
Noah’s hold on her nape was warm and solid, like the leg beneath her cheek and the press of his other hand on her back. He was alive. Here. He’d been there for her all day, like she’d been for him. An unlikely pairing, but he’d become
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