Page 252 of Sweet Nightmare

“Go away.”

I laugh quietly.

“Baby... wake up.”

“Why...” she mumbles.

I have to cover my mouth to keep from laughing.

She’s fucking adorable while she’s unconscious.

I slide one arm beneath her knees and the other around her back, lifting her like she’s precious cargo. Nothing in this world has ever felt as right as having her in my arms.

The moment I’m on my feet, she instinctively curls closer. Her forehead settles against my naked chest.

I adjust my hold carefully, shifting her until her cheek rests over my chest, right above my heart. I wonder if she can hear how violently it’s beating.

I look down at her.

“I’ve got you, princess.” I murmur.

She mumbles something unintelligible against my chest. Then, without opening her eyes, she lets out a small, contented sigh and relaxes in my arms.

Happy.

She sounds fucking happy.

In my arms.

I smile like the luckiest son of a bitch on earth and carry her toward my bed.

The second her head touches my silk pillow, her brows pull together and she frowns.

I watch quietly as her hand reaches blindly into the air, fingers searching for something she can’t see. I take her hand and immediately, she relaxes and her breathing slows.

The tiny crease between her eyebrows disappears.

“Stephen...”

The whisper is barely audible.

She said my name in her sleep.

Fuck.

I stand there, frozen and look down at her for a long moment. Long enough to memorize the curve of her mouth, the strands of white-blonde hair scattered across the black pillow. Her impossibly long lashes resting against her cheeks.

She looks…unguarded. Like someone who has spent her entire life convincing the world she doesn’t need anyone, even when some part of her probably wished someone would stay.

“You don’t have to sit outside my door, baby.”

The words come out rough.

Almost broken.

“I’ll survive the nightmares.”

It’s a lie.