He is a happy man, and I’m happy for him.
“You need to be resting,” Owen tells me. “If you get an infection—”
“I’m not going to. Stop momming me. I’m fine. I’m sore, but I’ll live. Heather is here. Heather. She isn’t like every other woman, Owen. She’s the woman. If it means I pop a damn stitch, then I pop it.”
Owen doesn’t like what I have to say, which is fine, I don’t give fuck. He can go fly a damn kite for all I care. His jaw flexes, but he concedes, and finally relaxes on the sofa. His eyes land on the tv and his brows pinch. “Why the fuck is there muffin on the tv?”
I grab the tray and start walking back to the room as fast as I can. “An alien came in and got pissed off at the pan, burnt himself, it was crazy to witness. Then, his little buddies beamed him back up into space.”
Jolie covers her mouth and giggles, knowing that I’m the alien.
“You’re ridiculous,” Owen shouts after me.
“So I’ve heard!” I toss over my shoulder in return. I stroll down the hall, the chandeliers gleaming against the newly polished floor. When I get to the door, I notice it is cracked open and send a silent prayer above because it would have sucked opening the door when I have a full tray in hands. When I kick the door open, I announce my arrival. “Okay, we are good to go. I brought you some food. So kick back, relax, and enjoy the—” I set the tray next to the bed and stop speaking when I notice her eyes shut.
Shit! I had one damn job. “Heather? Heather! No, you can’t sleep.” I jump on the bed and shake her shoulders, then think better of it. What if he did that to her? I stroke my fingers down her cheek instead. “Hey baby, come on, wake up. You’re freaking me out. Owen said no sleeping for twelve hours.” I continue rubbing my thumb against the apples of her cheeks, watching her lashes flutter like butterfly wings. They are long and thick, a rich brown that makes her green eyes a neon green. “There you are. I’m going to go get Owen to make sure you’re okay. Please, don’t fall asleep, okay?”
She nods, then yawns and a cute little squeak leaves her.
Ugh! Damn it, I want to kiss her right now so bad, but I know I can’t. I kiss her forehead then run toward the door. “Owen! She fell asleep!” I yell and two seconds later pounding steps hurry down the hallway.
He wastes no time busting through the room in a panic. Heather is sitting up in bed, staring at us as if we have lost our damn minds. Maybe I have, but after everything that’s happened to her, to me, I’m going to make damn sure she is safe.
We deserve our chance, and I won’t let life fuck it up for us anymore.
“I told you not to fall asleep,” Owen scolds, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“It was comfy and warm. I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry,” she says, staring at her hands. Heather twists her hands together.
“It’s okay, don’t do it again. It’s important you stay awake. It’s good you’re talking. There isn’t damage as I can see since your pupils are reactive and you aren’t stuttering. Do not fall asleep, Heather. Your life depends on it, okay?”
“Okay,” she nods, and her hair falls on the side of her face, hiding herself behind the silk curtain. I want to run my fingers through her hair and tuck the locks behind her ear, then trace her delicate jaw with my index finger until I get to her lips.
Then—
“Don’t let her fall asleep, Heaven. That’s your job.” Owen slaps my shoulder as he leaves the room, ruining my damn daydream of what her lips would feel like against mine.
“You got it,” I say, snapping my thumbs together right before my palms slap.
Owen closes the door behind him, and I crawl on the bed until I’m sitting next to her again. “You scared me; you know? You can’t do that. You can’t scare me. Not when I finally know you’re okay,” I say, staring directly into her eyes so she knows I’m not fucking around. “You aren’t allowed.”
“I’m not allowed?” she asks, lifting a brow and crossing her arms. I smirk at her attitude. She’s usually full of it, but understandably she hasn’t been herself. Her sass is there though, underneath the fear and turmoil, and it’s wanting to come out and play, but she’s suppressing it.
“Nope,” I pop the P and lean back until I’m up against the headboard.
“So glad I have a choice,” she says.
I hand her a muffin while it’s still warm, then press play on the movie. “Hush and watch the movie. The beginning is the best part.” It’s a cheesy 80’s music video. The song itself is super catchy.
She bites into the muffin and groans as the flavor bursts in her mouth. “Oh my god, that’s delicious.”
“You understand my addiction now, right?”
She nods as she digs in, taking big bites that are too big for her mouth, which has me thinking of other things that I’m not allowed to think about yet. She hands me the wrapper and I happily put it on the tray, then hand her the bowl of strawberries.
Heather doesn’t ask questions and she doesn’t push the food away. She happily takes the berries from me and bites into one, her eyes glued onto the tv mounted on the wall, but my attention is glued on her. If that bastard was still alive, I’d kill him myself. I’m not a killer, but I’d do whatever I need to for her to keep her safe. I hate seeing her body bruised, her skin cut, her strength damaged and her armor kinked.
In time I know she will heal, and her armor will be as strong and flawless as when I first saw her. She guarded herself like a knight— no— like a queen because I truly believe women are stronger than men and calling her a knight would be a disgrace.
She doesn’t need me to help her heal, but I sure hope she wants me there for the journey because I can’t imagine being anywhere else except right here with her.
Six
Heather
Watching a movie with Asher is something I never thought would happen. I could use this opportunity to talk to him about what happened all those years ago since we are alone. I’m nervous. I’ve thought about this moment in my head ever since I sent that letter while he was in prison. There were a hundred things I wanted to say, but now I can’t think of one word.
I glance away from the tv and look at him. I mean really stare at him to see if what I’m feeling is real or if it’s all in my head. This is Asher Haven, the prominent son of Senator Mike Haven. Asher is a known playboy, a guy that couldn’t keep it in his pants for more than a day, and I never remembered him having a girlfriend. I knew he wanted me all those years ago, but what about now? Would he still want me now after what’s happened? Does he look at me the same as he did when we were seventeen? Innocent, naïve, beautiful, and reckless?
Well, he was, I was an angel, and I know it drove him nuts that I never gave into him, but it was the self-control I had to keep a tight hold on because if I gave into him, I would have been left destroyed.
“Oh, this is funny. It’s my favorite part,” he points to the tv with his right finger and in his other hand is the hot chocolate that he is slowly sipping. “He pops his hip for the dance, but he hurts himself.”