He pauses his steps, looking over his shoulder at me. “Don’t, Ruby. Let yourself do what you need to do. I’ve got him.” I fall to the floor as soon as Wolf is out of sight and let the pain crawl over my skin. I don’t know how long I stay there, rolled into a ball and sobbing into the marble tiles. My face is wet and my eyes are puffy. It’s not until I feel my body shift off the floor and arms wrap around me that I feel the weight of time against my face. Curling into his warm chest, I rest my cheek against his neck, breathing in and out. A barrier of safety drops around me as he carries me up the stairs. The room is dim, the smell of eucalyptus misting in the air.

I sigh against his skin, pressing my lips against his chest. He stops and slowly lowers me down, until the mattress sinks beneath my weight.

“You remembered?” My voice cracks through my sadness. “About the diffuser oil.”

He doesn’t answer at first, and when my eyes finally travel up to his face, my heart squeezes in my chest. His body is roped with tight muscles, his abs deeply cut and defined. Wicked was always solid, but this is something else… The tattoos that crawl up his arm are no distraction to the masterpiece beneath them.

He lowers himself down slowly, resting his hand on his knee and turning toward me. “Yeah, I did.” He reaches toward me and my eyes close. As soon as his finger touches my temple, a shiver creeps down my spine and goose bumps rise on my flesh. “I’m sorry about Mama, baby.”

My eyes crack open slowly and I stare blankly at the art piece hanging on my wall. “They’ll get what’s coming to them.”

“Hey!” His voice hardens, but his tone remains soft. Gentle. “Look at me.” My eyes shift to his. Wicked is painfully attractive, in a way that would be considered classically handsome if not for the hardness in his eyes, the nose ring, tattoos, and… well, the scar I haven’t touched yet that’s carved into his chest. “You don’t have to be that person with me. You know that.” He and I haven’t been around each other long since reuniting, but I know. I’ve known since the first time I saw him again that I could trust him. It’s as though all of our years apart don’t exist.

“You’re the only one who sees this side of me,” I answer hoarsely, the tears now dried on my cheeks. Reaching for his hand, I suck in a deep breath when electricity zaps between us. “Stay in here tonight.”

His hand stills. “I’m not fucking you.”

I glare up at him. “Did I fucking ask you to?”