The Struggle(63)

He hesitated and suddenly he didn’t look like a god—a powerful being with no match. He stared up at me through thick lashes, and he looked like a man about to ask for the world. “Can I stay with you?”

I wasn’t expecting that question.

Seth inched closer to the bed. “I don’t think I can leave your side, Josie.”

My heart was going to crawl out of my chest, and in an instant, the past and present collided. I loved Seth. I would always love him.

Loving him didn’t mean I wasn’t disappointed in his choices—that those choices hadn’t hurt me. Loving him didn’t mean he could keep making those choices and I would keep forgiving him. Loving him meant that I knew from the first moment that I fell for Seth that he was complicated—that loving him wouldn’t be easy. Loving him . . . Well, it meant that I was willing to fight for him.

And loving him meant he had to be willing to fight for me.

“If you stay, you stay. You can’t leave me again,” I heard myself say as I held his gaze. “If you can’t promise that and mean it, you can’t stay with me.”

He moved as quick as a bolt of lightning. One second he was standing next to the bed, and in another, he was only an inch or so away from me, bent at the waist, his hands planted on the bed, beside my hips. “I will never leave you like that again, Josie. You will never have to fear that. I swear to you.”

My lips parted. So many words rose and died on the tip of my tongue. I stopped thinking—thinking about everything. Scooting over, I lifted the covers for him. Seth didn’t hesitate for a moment. Within a blink of an eye, he was in the bed, his body curled so he was facing me. There were a few inches between us, but my heart was pounding like there was nothing separating us.

Before . . . before everything happened, there wouldn’t even be a scant inch between us. Seth was a very physical person. A cuddler. But maybe he worried that he’d accidentally hurt me by holding me close. Or maybe he sensed that I . . . that I wasn’t ready for that kind of closeness.

He was silent as he placed his right hand in the space between us. My gaze fell to where his palm was flipped up, waiting. My heart started thundering against my ribs. Closing my eyes, I reached down and placed my left hand over his.

Seth curled his fingers around mine and he held on.





Chapter 20


Seth

“You sure you’re up for this?”

Josie was standing on the tips of her toes, trying to see over my shoulder. Basil was out in the hallway, waiting to be of some sort of service, so he was just standing there.

Really needed to get him a computer with an internet connection.

Her blue eyes darted to mine only briefly. “Yes. I feel better.”

I studied her closely. She only looked marginally better. The bruises had faded a shade or two. The patches of clear skin were still too pale and the heavy shadows under her eyes were present.

She didn’t look ready.

Josie bit down on her lower lip as her gaze found mine again. “Seriously. I’m okay. I can leave this room.”

After she fallen asleep beside me, she’d woken up a few hours later, like she had before, in the throes of a nightmare, struggling and screaming. I’d held her through it, smoothing my hand up and down her spine and whispering in her ear until she quieted and fell back to sleep.

I didn’t think she remembered.

I did.

Hearing those screams was something I’d never forget. They’d embedded themselves deep inside me. Unable to fall back asleep, I’d lain there fantasizing about slowly, painfully dismembering every single Titan with only a rusty butter knife.

“You can’t keep me in this room,” she said, crossing her arms.

Despite how dark my thoughts had turned, I was thrilled to see that she was a little more like her old self this morning. “You do realize that I could easily keep you in this room.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’d like to see you try.”

That was hot.

Hell, everything about her was hot. Josie had slept through the rest of yesterday and all night, waking only for that nightmare. When I’d woken up this morning, which had only been about an hour ago, I’d done so with a raging hard-on. Kind of felt like a creep about it, but I couldn’t help it. After the nightmare, I dozed back off holding her close. She’d gotten turned around and her ass was pressed against my dick, and I was a male, so it happened.

All right. It wasn’t just because I was a male.

I’d missed her—missed looking at her, listening to her voice and her laugh, and I’d freaking missed touching her. Gods, had I ever missed touching her. Even right now it took everything in me not to have an arm around her shoulders. I wanted her under me and I wanted me in her. I wanted to lock her in this room for a month and that desire had nothing to do with making sure she was well-rested.