Page 85 of The Midnight Frequency

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice airy as I reached to wrap my hand around hers.

“You keep rubbing the burn,” I explained. “This will stop it from hurting.”

I chose not to analyze why I didn’t get her ice from the freezer instead of insisting on holding her hand as we watched a movie.

Little by little, I saw Maggie’s lashes fluttering, then spring open, only to slip closed.

Until suddenly, they didn’t open.

Her breath went slow and shallow. Her heartbeat evened out.

Still, I held her hand.

The movie rolled to credits, and my gaze slid around the room, and I was struck by how comfortable it felt.

I’d lived in castles and penthouses, townhouses, estates, in shacks and hidden places carved into mountainsides.

None of them had ever felt quite as warm as Maggie’s apartment early in the morning. With the scents of sugar, chocolate, and coffee in the air, and her cuddled beside me on the couch like she belonged there.

Like I could too.

The thought should have unsettled me more than it did.

Maggie shifted in her sleep, a soft sigh escaping her as her head landed on my shoulder.

The light caught a streak of flour across her cheek.

I reached for it, wiping it gently away.

Then I slept.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

[ “YOU’RE NOT CONFUSED. You just don’t like the answer.”

— Haunted and Honest - Episode 47]

Maggie

Did I go into work earlier for the next several days like the big chicken I was?

Absolutely.

Because, for me, something had shifted that night in my apartment. Something that felt less like attraction and dangerously close to affection. To attachment.

To the one man who would never be able to give me what I needed.

So I definitely didn’t want to talk about that emotional intimacy.

And also didn’t want a repeat of the physical intimacy, either.

Okay, fine. Some part of me totally wanted a repeat. It was the same part that needed a cold shower and a block of ice to sit on. But I was just committed to ignoring that.

Was it making me short-tempered and irritable? Oh, definitely.

Tess had been watching me with drawn brows for days until she finally declared, “You know, I’ve seen exorcisms less dramatic than your current vibe.” My answer had been another grumble as I slammed a pile of paperwork down while trying to find my missing phone. “Do you want me to get Margo and take you out for some stress relief, or are you planning on marinating in this mood for another day or two?”

“I’m not moody. I’m… busy.”