Page 62 of Secrets in the Deep

Warm milk. That would help, right? She had to try something.

She kicked off the sheets and climbed out of bed.

Heck, maybe she’d raid the freezer and eat the rest of the rocky road ice cream while she was down there. The stuff had been her comfort food after the breakup. Because it had reminded her of Ryan. Of the way he’d always made sure there was a tub in the freezer of his California apartment, even thoughhe hated it. Or frequently took her for scoops at the ice cream shop near her place.

Quietly, she padded down the stairs.

She was so deep in her own head that she almost missed him, halfway across the living room. Then she noticed the outline of his shoulders by the window.

She stopped. The room was dark, but the curtains were open, allowing faint light from the street to seep into the room.

What was he doing? He just stood there, bare chested in shorts, watching the street for…an intruder? Or was he not really watching at all? Was he just as in his head as she’d been all night?

She moved beside him and gently touched his shoulder. “Hey.”

There was a small twitch of muscles beneath her fingertips. He turned, his gaze raking over her body, his brows tugged together. “I didn’t hear you get up. Are you okay?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” She glanced out the window. “Remember those first nights after you’d get home from ops? You’d either drop dead and not wake up for three days, or you just wouldn’t sleep at all. You were too wired.”

“You insisted on staying awake with me.”

“I didn’t want you to be alone.” She swallowed. “What are you looking at?”

“I told myself I was watching the street in case the person came back.”

“But…”

“But I couldn’t sleep either. And I haven’t had anyone to stay awake with me for a long time.”

Her heart did that crash-against-her-ribs thing. “Ryan?—”

“Shit, I didn’t say that to make you feel bad or to play the victim. I made my decision. Now I live with it.”

She watched the streetlight flicker, its flashes almost creating a rhythm. “If you had a do-over, would you do it differently?”

“You would have?—”

“No. Don’t do that.” She turned to face him. “I don’t want you to think about me or what I would have lost. Just think aboutyou. If you had a do-over, would you do it differently foryou?”

“If I only had to think about me, and my needs and my wants, then I wouldn’t have let you go. Ever.”

Something deep in her chest cracked, a fracture in the armor she’d spent years building.

She stepped closer, taking his arm and turning him toward her. And the way he looked at her…he was the only person who’d ever looked at her like that.

She lifted a hand and ran her fingertip beside his eye. “You know, strangers look at me like I hang the stars when they don’t even know me. My mother looks at me like I’m a pawn she can bend to her will. Producers look at me like I’m a tool to win them awards. But you… You’re the only person who seems to actually seeme…the person behind the actress.”

He touched her hip with one hand, the other cupping her waist. Then he turned his head and kissed the inside of her wrist. “You’re worth seeing, Emi. Fully. Deeply. Every part of you.”

A gentle gasp cut from her throat, barely more than a whisper.

She curved her hand around his neck and pulled him down. His warm breath teased her lips.

“Kiss me,” she whispered.

His eyes darkened, his forehead touching hers. He looked tormented.

One second passed, then another. She was certain he was going to move away…when finally, he lowered his head that final bit of distance. A quiet whisper of a kiss. A graze of his lips.