“He won’t hurt you,” he said, sure of it. “But I will stay outside.”
She looked like she wanted to argue, then decided against it and retreated inside. Her disappearance felt like a punch in the gut, making him realize how much he liked looking at her. At the same time, it made him feel like a depraved soul taking advantage, so he adamantly turned around and faced the forest.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed her tent lights fading away and the shuffling of items as she got ready for bed. She sighed. Sheets moved as she tossed and turned, then let out a soft exhale. It wound in his gut, a gentle trickle that held on and spread until his entire body was hard. When another sigh came out, he gritted his teeth. An ache formed. The intensity blindsided him until it dawned that it had been building for a while now.
The night was torture as every sound he made had him imagining the corresponding movement, and it had him imagining how she looked. The attraction was stupid, a bad idea lurking in the corner that shouldn’t be entertained.
And Nico was going to fight it for as long as he could.
***
Like clockwork, he felt the shift inside her tent the moment the full moon was up, signaling the battle happening there. A few taps and he was inside, zipping up the tent with an armful of necessities. The sight of her had him dropping everything as he scrambled to her side. He swerved to avoid a claw headed his way, then pinned her wrist down while trying not to hurt her. He searched her face, pale and lost in her world already.
“Anne? It’s me. I’m here.”
Her green eyes were cloudy, but they went clear the second she heard his voice. Her gaze latched on to his, pinning him back.
“Hurts.”
Just one word, and he felt it in the vestiges of his soul. Desperate to take away her pain and helpless when he knew there was nothing he could do, he retreated to his last position, using a blanket to give her the space she needed.
“Anne…”
“Closer.”
“What?”
Her hands slapped the wooden pole, pushing against it as her body shook. The severity of it had him removing the blanket and pressing his front directly against her back, where he wrapped his arms completely around her until she was compressed inside him. Her body fought it. But her claws returned to the pole and held on as if to add to the pressure, and he braced himself for what was to come.
It came in stronger waves, snapping her body into wildness as she struggled with all her might against him. He rode it, then fought it, not letting go even while she tried to buck him off. Words flowed from her mouth, whispered as if she couldn’t muster the energy for more, but they sank into his ear and directly into his heart.
“Hurts.”
“I know.”
“Please.”
“I’m here.”
“Hold on.”
“I’m not going away, Anne.”
“I’m sorry.” The last bit was said so tiredly, he wanted to rampage and shout out to the world. Instead, he held on as a hushed, tension-riddled silence coated them.
“Don’t ever be sorry. Not to me. Tell me what I can do.”
“Talk.”
It was the last thing he expected, but he jumped into it with no hesitation.
“Peachy and Michael are tiptoeing around each other. The ignoring-each-other stage is over and the fighting stage started last week, but I think that’s done, too. Yesterday I found him massaging her ankle while her voice went…very high. She was rattled. He was very worried. Apparently, she tripped over something trying to get away from him.”
“She likes you.”
The words had his brows furrowing. Then he remembered Michael’s look of jealousy and shook his head.
“No, she doesn’t. She’s using me to show him that he doesn’t affect her, but he does affect her…easy, Anne,” he murmured at the next wave, hugging tight. When it passed, he relaxed. “But the thing is, he’s even more affected. I have never seen my brother so worked up over a woman, not even the ones he was dating or sleeping with. And he’s guilty. He knows he hurt her and doesn’t know how to fix things.”