His jaw tightens. “You’re not there anymore,” he says. “You’re here. With me. No one’s getting to you.”
I want to believe him. I really, really do. But fear doesn’t care about logic. My body shivers, and before I can stop myself, I roll slightly toward him.
He notices immediately. “You cold?” he asks.
“Just… unsettled.”
He hesitates for half a second—just enough to prove he’s not taking advantage of anything—then opens his arm. “Come here.” The invitation is quiet. Gentle.
I move into his side, and he wraps his arm around me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like holding me is part of his job description.
His chest is warm. Solid. His heartbeat is steady under my cheek. My own starts to match it. He doesn’t touch me anywhere inappropriate. Doesn’t try to turn it into something it isn’t. Just holds me, one hand resting between my shoulder blades like he’s anchoring me to the bed. “Breathe,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”
I do. In and out. Slow. My muscles start to unclench one by one.
“You don’t have to be brave here,” he says. “You don’t have to pretend with me.” The words hit harder than they should.
I swallow. “I’m not very good at not pretending.”
He huffs a quiet, humorless laugh. “Yeah. I noticed.”
I tilt my head back just enough to look at him. His eyes are soft in the low light. Focused. On me. “Chase?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you really think I’m safe?”
His answer comes without hesitation. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I won’t let anything happen to you.” It’s a simple statement. Direct. Like it’s not a promise—it’s a fact.
My chest tightens. “I want to believe you,” I whisper.
He brushes his thumb once, gently, against my arm. “You don’t have to believe me yet. Just… rest.”
So I do. I let myself sink into his warmth. Into the steady rise and fall of his chest. Into the quiet certainty of his presence. For the first time in a long time, sleep doesn’t feel like surrender.
It feels like relief.
Morning comesin through the window like a soft knock. I wake slowly, warm and comfortable and very aware that I’m still wrapped around Chase like a human blanket.
He’s awake, staring at the ceiling, his arm still around me like he hasn’t moved all night.
“Oh,” I whisper, realizing. “I’m sorry. I?—”
He glances down at me. “You okay?”
I nod. “Yeah. Better. Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
I slide out of bed, suddenly hyper-aware of how close we were. How safe I felt. How easy it was to fall asleep like that. Dangerous thoughts. I retreat to the bathroom to splash water on my face and remind myself why I’m here. When I come back out, Chase is already pulling on his boots.
“Team’s meeting in fifteen,” he says. “They’re starting to dig into who might be after you.”
My stomach flips. “So it’s real,” I say quietly. “We’re actually doing this.”