Page 55 of Reins

My bare feet yell at me when I step onto the cold floor. This place leaves a lot to be desired when it comes to insulation.

Knocking softly, I press my forehead against the wood. “Ros? Are you okay?”

“Sore,” she moans.

Damn it, what time is it? I have no idea. I bet the ibuprofen wore off.

“I’ll be there in just a sec,” I mumble through the door before shuffling to the table. Sleepily, I shake out a few of the tiny pills, then grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

I wonder if one of the gas stations will be open on Christmas so I can grab a few things to hold us over until I can hit a grocery store?

Hmm. I bet Pete has a stash. I’ll check when I wake up.

Or morning. I guess I am up now.

“Ros, I’m coming in.” Only the dim red light from the bedside clock illuminates the edge of the bed, yet it’s enough to keep me from bumping my toes on the frame.

When I nudge her shoulder, her eyes glow a soft orange from the reflection.

“Is it your belly?” I drop the anti-inflammatories into her palm that she pops into her mouth obediently.

“No.” Taking the water, she swallows then sighs. “My knees and hips from when I fell.” Her lips tilt in the dim light. “Pretty sad that my butt is what hurts the most.”

“Ass kicked,” I chuckle. “Those should make you feel a little better soon.” I want to reach out and touch her but shouldn’t.

“Cade?” Her voice stops me before I can leave. “Would you sit with me until they kick in?”

She wants me to?

“Sure.” I’m sure that comes out sounding a little more gruff than I intend. I just didn’t expect the sudden lump to form in my throat with her question.

Moving around the other side, I slide over the blankets and prop myself with a couple of the extra pillows. I’m far enough away that I can’t touch her easily.

Because I’m tempted to tug her close and hold her until she knows that someone cares for her.

Even if it’s just me.

So when she turns over with a grimace to face me, I give in to how pointless it was to try and keep some space.

Her cool fingers snake out from the blanket to rest on the tender spot inside my elbow. “Merry Christmas, huh?”

I reach over and pat her knuckles. “One of the best ones I’ve had in a long time,” I admit.

It’s been too many years since the last time I’ve shared the holidays with anyone.

“Does your family do anything to celebrate?” she asks in a hushed tone as she buries into her pillow.

Her skin against mine is distracting. “My mom used to go all out when we were kids.” I smile into the darkness. “Dad would grumble about hanging the lights, but they’d always look so good when he was done.”

I wonder who’s in charge of them now? Mason hated it just as much.

“My parents didn’t celebrate.” Her touch lightens to trace her nail over the vein on the inside of my arm.

It sends little shockwaves through my chest with every short stroke.

“But one year Ava snuck me a diary. I loved it.” Her sniffle tells me there’s something more.

“That sounds like a beautiful gift.” I still don’t want to believe that Ava did such unbelievably cruel things to Rosalyn.