“Damn, that sounds good. You want some tomato soup, too?”
“Sure.” My eyes filled with tears at Leo’s easygoing words. He knew something was wrong, but he wouldn’t push it. That just wasn’t his way.
If I wanted to talk, he’d listen. If I didn’t, he’d leave it alone.
Leo patted my back a couple times, then stood from the bed and left without another word.
I rolled to my back and stared at the ceiling while I listened to my little brother clanging around the kitchen. I’d picked grilled cheese because it was one of the only things he could make well, even though I knew my kitchen would be completely trashed by the time he was finished.
I needed to get out of bed. Just push back the covers and swing my legs over the side. It should have been easy.
It wasn’t.
I did it anyway.
I went to the bathroom and cleaned off my face, but there was nothing I could do about my swollen eyes. Leo would notice them. I rarely cared.
“It’s alive!” Leo called out as I walked into the kitchen.
“Ha.”
“Your dinner,” he sang, setting down a plate of grilled cheese sandwich cut in half with a coffee mug of tomato soup sitting in the middle.
“Fancy,” I teased. “Thank you.”
“No prob.”
I watched him hustle around the kitchen, grabbing his own food, and noticed that sure enough, he’d left a huge ass mess.
“Is that tomato soup on my cupboards?” I asked as I blew on my sandwich.
“Uh, yeah.” He glanced at me sheepishly. “I wasn’t paying attention and it started boiling and popping.”
I snorted.
“It was an accident!”
“You’re cleaning that shit up.”
“I cooked!”
“Yeah, and you also trashed my kitchen.”
“You suck.”
“You’re still cleaning it up.”
We went silent as we ate, and I tried not to let my mind wander. I was eating a meal that I didn’t have to cook and sitting next to one of my favorite people in the world. That’s what I tried to focus on.
It wasn’t until later, when I’d climbed back into bed, that my heart started racing again.
What was I going to do?
I wanted to get my shit together so badly.
I wanted to somehow change my feelings.
I wanted to not be so afraid.
Why the hell was I so scared? I’d never been afraid of anything in my life. I’d always felt safe, even when I knew things were happening that were out of my control. Even when we’d had to go on lockdown at the club because it was too dangerous to be on the outside.
Nothing had prepared me for the debilitating fear that seemed to be growing.
I turned it over and over in my mind, trying desperately to find the root of whatever was going on with me, but I couldn’t figure it out.
I’d always planned on being with Cam—of having kids with him.
I’d just wanted a job first. I’d wanted to contribute. I wanted to get my fucking feet under me before we had kids.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew intellectually that I was being completely irrational—but that didn’t help. I could say everything would be fine a thousand times, I could make it my fucking mantra, but that didn’t change the fact that I was terrified.
A few hours after I’d gotten back into bed, I heard the front door open again and Cam’s voice mixing with Leo’s in the living room.
My entire body deflated into the bed. I hadn’t been sure that he would come home at all.
I couldn’t blame him for that.
I wanted to tell him everything that was running through my head, but I didn’t understand it myself. I knew what he would do—he’d wrap his arms around me and tell me everything would be okay. He’d expect me to trust him.
But I couldn’t. Not with this.
I couldn’t trust anyone, even myself.
I heard Leo leave and waited anxiously for Cam to come to me. Would he sleep in the spare room again?
I’d tried to let him be when he’d gotten home early that morning, but after an hour of lying there listening to his snores through the walls, I hadn’t been able to stop myself from crawling into bed with him. Even though he was angry, I needed to be near him.
I loved him more than anything. I loved him more than myself.
“You awake?” he asked gruffly as he finally came into the room, pulling off his hoodie as he moved.
“Yeah. Everything okay at the club?” My voice was hoarse.
“Found out some new shit—nothin’ for you to worry about. You get outta bed today?”
“I had dinner with Leo.”
“You get outta bed?”
“Yeah, we ate in the kitchen.”
“That’s good, at least,” he mumbled.
He stripped down to his boxers then glanced over at my eyes peeking over the blankets.
“Let’s go,” he ordered.
“What?”
“Need a shower. Not climbin’ into bed with ya like that. You need one, too.”
“Thanks.”
He ignored me. “Need to strip the bed, too. You got extras?”