She didn’t reply. Pushing open the door he found her on the floor, arms wrapped around her legs, crying. She wore a towel and nothing else.

“Hey.” He dropped down before her. Stroking the damp black curls, he talked softly to her until the tears eased.

“S-sorry.”

“No need to be. I’d weep if I’d been through what you have today.”

“Joanie was my friend, and I should have tried h-harder—”

“To do what? You couldn’t have stopped her unless she wanted to, Piper. You have to know that.”

“But I could have tried, and I knew something wasn’t right that day.”

She was exhausted, all defenses down. The sassy side to Piper Trainer had been momentarily snuffed out, all fight gone.

“But she told you she was doing good, didn’t she?”

“Y-yes.”

“Then what more could you have done?”

“I should have called her more often.”

“Guilt is going to play a natural part in this, Piper. You’re alive, and Joanie’s not. But none of this is your fault. She took the drugs, not you, and unless you’d been with her 24/7 you couldn’t have stopped that.”

“When the grief has eased slightly, I’m going to be angry with her again.”

“And likely she deserves that.” Dylan continued to stroke her head while he attempted not to notice the damp skin and curves rising above the towel.

The woman did not need that from him now. Not when her life had just fallen apart. The hell of it was, he couldn’t seem to get his body to behave.

Chapter 22

“You go on now and get into bed. I’ll take the floor.”

“Dylan, we’ve had sex, we can share a bed,” Piper said as he pulled her to her feet.

“Okay, sure, but I was being nice.”

“Thanks, but... but it’s okay,” Piper said, instead of what she wanted to say. Don’t go too far away from me right now, Dylan. I really need to know you’re close.

Fear was eating away at her. Fear that she was now responsible for a small child, when sometimes she struggled to look after herself.

“I’m dyslexic,” Piper blurted out as Dylan led her to the bed.

“Okay.” He grabbed the shirt he’d bought and handed it to her.

“How can I help Grace with her schooling if I don’t understand it?”

She struggled into the shirt, then pulled on underwear.

“When were you diagnosed?”

Piper watched him pull back the bedcovers and urge her onto the bed.

“I was a teenager. I’m a lot better now after years of working with people, but still sometimes, it’s a struggle.”

“I’m sure it is, but I think you’ll be better than most parents at helping Grace because of it, Piper, and if not you have a house full of adults who can help too.”