I get in bed and pull the blanket I discarded earlier up to my waist. The corner of the room is too dark to see the expression on Scarlett’s face, but by the lack of movement on the opposite side of the room, it’s easy to tell she’s nervous.
“Want a pillow wall?” I offer, patting the empty space beside me.
“I don’t need a pillow wall,” she says defensively.
“Then come here. I want to feel you beside me.”
My throat is so far beyond sore there’s no point in keeping my mouth shut now. Especially not when I’m about to have her here, in my bed.
“I mean that in a non-creepy way, I swear.”
It was an impulsive decision to ask her to join me in my personal space—something I haven’t done in over a decade—but I couldn’t help myself. Cooper might have gone around me to invite her here with hopes of trapping us, but this might be the one time where I appreciate his sneaky ways. He handed me a chance here to spend some time with her.
Alone.
There’s no way I’m going to give that up. Just having her in my house, talking to my son like she’s known him for far longer than a few weeks, had my heart rattling in my chest like it wanted to burst free and go to her.
“Stop talking,” she grumbles.
The sheets rustle beside me before the bed dips and she crawls in beside me. Her perfume invades my senses, doing more to help this stupid cold than any medication has.
My eyes are heavy as I turn on my side to face her and fold the pillow under my cheek. I can hear her breathing, and with a bravery that I don’t expect, I reach out to touch her arm. Following the length of it, I close my hand over hers.
Her fingers are slim and smooth and fit between mine like they were made to do so. I bring our hands to my lips and graze them over her knuckles.
“Thank you for coming,” I say softly.
Scarlett turns her head in my direction. Her breath fans my face. “I was already planning to come by after work once I got your address from Brie. You didn’t show up this morning, and I was . . .” She trails off.
“Worried?”
Her swallow is audible. “Yeah. I was worried. You’ve never missed a day before, and you don’t seem like the type not to message ahead of time if you were going to.”
“No, I’m not that type of guy,” I agree. The way she seems frustrated with her worry for me has me asking, “Does it bother you that you were worried about me?”
“I shouldn’t worry about you,” she says.
“I shouldn’t worry about you either. But I do, and I don’t want to stop.”
Scarlett doesn’t say anything. Instead, she inches closer to me and squeezes my hand. The extra contact does wonders to distract me from the pulse between my brows and the pressure in my nose, but it’s still not enough.
I roll to my back and release her hand, pulling my arm up and resting it on her pillow, just above her head instead.
“Come here.” It’s both a plea and a demand.
My heartbeat skyrockets when she moves close and curls into my side. Her cheek presses to my chest, and her arm moves slowly, carefully across my abdomen.
“Tell me something, Scarlett. Something I don’t know about you,” I murmur.
Her words are the last thing I hear before the darkness closes in.
“I didn’t think I would ever be able to replace what I lost, but because of you, I think I have.”
My eyelids flutter open when a soft touch brushes my hair back. A cold cloth is set on my forehead, and I moan at how good it feels against my hot skin.
“Lean up for me, Adam.”
I push up enough to swallow two pills and drink some water before falling back to the mattress. “Scar,” I mumble, despite the burst of pain in my throat.
She shushes me. “Go back to sleep.”
“Don’t go. Stay here.”
I feel her lips touch my cheek. “I’m not going anywhere. You’ve won. I’m here.”
Her words confuse me, but I only nod, content with her confirmation at the moment.
“Okay. Good night, baby,” I murmur before falling back asleep.
