“It’s dumb,” she corrected. “We’re not doing that.”
Tank stilled. “Not doing what?”
She pointed to the sofa and looked back at him. “You’re almost twice the size of that couch,” she said. “I don’t need you sleeping on the sofa because you think that I’m some fragile guest,” she said. “We’re both exhausted, and that bed is big enough for two people.”
His jaw tightened. “Lillith?—”
“Relax,” she cut him off. “I’m not trying to jump you. Your virtue is safe with me.” That wasn’t the problem.
“You don’t trust me,” he said. She met his gaze, steady and unflinching.
“I do,” she said. He wanted to tell her that she shouldn’t—not after everything that had happened since he met her. Not after he disappeared, dragging her into his mess. Yet, the way that she looked at him told him everything. She did trust him, and for some reason, that meant more than he could say.
“Fine,” he muttered. Because arguing would just waste time, and he was too tired for that.
“Good,” she said, like she’d won something. She kicked off her shoes and moved toward the bedroom without hesitation—like she belonged here, or like any of this was normal. It wasn’t. In fact, it felt completely insane to have her in his cabin. Tank watched her walk down the hallway and then dragged a hand down his face.
“You’re in trouble,” he muttered to himself. This wasn’t just about keeping her safe anymore, and that was the real problem. He turned off the lights, locked the door, and checked the windows one more time before heading down the hall.
By the time he reached the bedroom, Lillith was already curled up on one side of the bed, facing away from his side of the bed. She was quiet and still, and he wondered if she had already fallen asleep. Or maybe she was just pretending. Tank hesitated in the doorway and then stepped inside, slow and careful like the wrong move might break something fragile.
He sat on the edge of the bed, pulling off his boots before lying down on the opposite side, leaving space between them. It wasn’t enough and too much, all at once. He stared up at the ceiling, listening and waiting for something bad to happen.
“Tank?” Her voice was so soft that he almost didn’t hear her.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t leave again,” she whispered. Her words were quiet, but they hit like a punch to his gut. Tank swallowed, his chest tightening, but he didn’t answer right away because he couldn’t. Promises got people killed, but his silence felt even worse.
“Get some sleep, Lillith,” he said finally. It wasn’t the answer that she was looking for, but he wouldn’t lie to her. It was all he had to give her now, and that was going to have to be enough.
The room fell quiet again, and her breathing eventually evened out after a while. She was finally asleep, and Tank wasafraid to move and wake her. He didn’t close his eyes, because that would mean that he’d have to let his guard down. Someone had already found them once, and he wasn’t about to let that happen again.
LILLITH
Three days had passed of them being stuck in the cabin together. It had been three days of tension so thick she could practically taste it. And three days of Tank acting like he hadn’t kissed her, like the world was ending just over a month ago. He was keeping his distance, and that drove her crazy. Lillith was about two seconds away from losing her mind. She stood at the small kitchen counter, staring down at the cup of coffee in her hands like it had personally offended her.
“You’re glaring at that like it did something to you,” Tank said from behind her.
She didn’t turn around. “It’s bad,” she muttered.
“It’s coffee,” he said.
“It’s terrible coffee,” she corrected.
“That’s all you’re getting out here,” he said. “It’s all I’ve got because we’re not running to the store for better coffee.”
She spun around, crossing her arms over her chest. “Do you live like this on purpose?”
“I don’t live here,” he reminded her.
“Right,” she said dryly. “You just drag women into the woods and force them to drink bad coffee.” His mouth twitched—justbarely, but she caught it. For some reason, it made something warm spark low in her stomach. God, she was in trouble.
“I’ll go into town in a day or two to grab some more food, and I’ll try to get you some better coffee. I’ll get a burner phone too, so you can call Ember.” She had been begging him to let her use his phone to call her sister since they got to the cabin, but he refused. He had taken her phone and destroyed it on their way to the cabin. She was sure that Ember must be out of her mind with worry by now, but Tank said that it wasn’t safe to talk to her yet.
“I appreciate that,” she breathed.
He nodded. “Eat,” he said, sliding a plate toward her. “Food will make the coffee taste better.” She glanced down at it as though she didn’t believe him. He had made scrambled eggs and toast. He kept it simple because simple was the only way he knew how to cook.