She seemed stunned for a moment, her body locking, but instead of pushing me away, she collapsed against my chest, the sobs coming louder. The force of them ripped through her and seeped into me, and each one spilled a little more of her pain.
In that moment, I would’ve done anything to stop it. Because this woman didn’t deserve whatever had caused it. I knew that like I knew the sun rose in the east every morning.
I held her tightly, not saying a word. I simply let her release some of whatever she had been holding on to for too long. If the dam needed to break, I could catch the overflow.
Slowly, the sobs quieted, and her shaking softened. The haphazard bun her hair had been wrapped in had fallen free, and I ran a hand over the strands. Her hair often looked a little wild, but the strands felt like silk. “You’re okay.”
“I’m not. I snotted all over someone who doesn’t even like me.”
“We’ve been over this. I like you,” I grunted. I liked her too much.
“I’m surprised you didn’t start yelling at me because my tears surprised you.”
I barked out a laugh. “That’s always a risk.”
Everly tipped back her head, and I saw that her eyes were swollen, and her face was red. But she was still so damn beautiful. The raw truth in her was undeniable. A fierceness only matched by her tightly guarded vulnerability.
She patted at my chest. “I’m sorry. I just—”
“Don’t apologize,” I gritted out.
She straightened in my hold. “Don’t growl at me.”
“I’m not growling.”
“You are—”
I put a finger to her lips. It was a mistake. They were plump and so damn soft. I dropped my hand immediately.
Everly’s mouth opened, closed, and then opened again. “Did you just physically shush me?”
“Sorry. I just—you don’t have to apologize. Sometimes, you just need to let things out. I’m glad I was here.”
She took a step back, moving out of my hold. My fingers twitched as my arms fell to my sides. I wanted to pull her back. Everly looked down at her boots. “Thank you.”
“What brought this on?”
Her gaze lifted, those blue eyes punching right through the walls of my chest. “It…nothing, I—” She stopped herself mid-sentence and shook her head. “I guess you deserve that much for letting me destroy one of your t-shirts.”
I glanced down at my tee. There was a wet patch, and the cotton was stretched in places where her hands had fisted the material. “It’s an old shirt. And it’s hardly ruined.” I lifted my gaze to hers. “Tell me.”
It was a gentle demand, but a mandate, nonetheless. Something inside me clawed to get out. Some need to know what had hurt this woman so deeply. To understand the wounds so I could tread just a bit more carefully, unlike the bull-in-a-China-shop scene I’d pulled in our early meetings.
Everly leaned back against the counter, her fingers curling around the lip of the sink, knuckles bleaching white. “Hadley and Birdie doing cartwheels. It just reminded me of something.”
“Cartwheels?” It was the only thing I managed to get out. Because how in the world did cartwheels lead to pain that I could feel across a room?
“It reminded me of the good and bad. Addie and I used to have handstand contests to see who could balance the longest.”
My sisters had done the same thing. And whoever had won got bragging rights for the rest of the day. “You guys were close growing up?”
“The closest. More like sisters than cousins. Her mom left when she was young, so mine looked after her a lot.”
“Okay…” I let the word hang in the air, a silent request for more.
“One time, I got a little carried away and sent myself flying into one of the fences.”
“Ouch.”