Capturing Peace (Sharing You 0.5)(41)

“Why do you sleep with me, do you think?”

He shrugged. “I have no idea. That first night here, I hadn’t planned on actually falling asleep, next thing I knew it was six hours later and you were waking me up.”

“And you’ve never had a nightmare—”

“Flashback.”

“You’ve never had a flashback when you sleep with me?”

His dark eyes held mine as he shook his head.

“Have you—have you thought about talking to someone?”

Coen sighed and sat up, but his face showed all the patience in the world as he pulled me into his chest. “I’m not going to talk to anyone. Your brother and Saco try to get me to all the time. And before you ask why, it’s because even though those people are trained to help . . . they couldn’t possibly understand because they’ve never gone through anything like what we went through.”

“Okay, I get that. But you’re not sleeping,” I argued softly, and gripped the back of his neck as I sat up to rest my forehead against his. “That alone can cause depression, and if you’re already dealing with . . . whatever it is you’re dealing with—”

A laugh rumbled in Coen’s chest. “Do I seem depressed to you, Ray?”

I didn’t find anything about this amusing. I was terrified for him. “You worry me sometimes,” I replied honestly.

His dark eyes widened, and surprise covered his features. “What?”

“Sometimes the things you say . . . they’re dark. Your words are haunted, and they show just how haunted you are up here.” I touched his temple with the tips of my fingers. “But I know you went through things no one should have to, so I understand you. That doesn’t mean I’m not worried. And then the pictures you take of yourself. I love them, Coen, I do. They’re . . . different, edgy, sexy, some are hilarious. But you and I both know why you hide your face or your eyes, even if you’re not meaning to.”

Coen was quiet for so long, I started to think I’d pushed him too far. Sitting back on his lap, I looked at his tortured face, and my heart broke.

“That’s what I do.”

“What?”

Looking up at me, he repeated, “That’s what I do. When I can’t sleep, or when I’m avoiding it, I edit pictures, or go do shoots of myself. It gives me something to think about other than what I feel like I’m running from.”

Letting my hands run over his shoulders, I looked at the path they were making as the tension left Coen’s body. “I wish I could take it away for you.”

He laughed sadly. “I already told you, you do. I don’t know why, and I don’t know how . . . but you do.”

Pressing a kiss to his lips, I sat back and eyed him for a second. “I won’t bring up talking to someone again. I get why you don’t want to, even though I wish you would. But, maybe . . . maybe someday you’ll tell me.” His face hardened, and I hurried to continue. “Not about the mission—I know you can’t do that—but about what happened. You don’t have to today; you don’t have to ever. But, Coen, if I chase your demons away . . . if you can sleep when you’re with me . . . maybe just talking to me will help. I won’t judge you, I won’t try to fix you, I just want to be there for you.”

Pushing us until I was on my back and he was hovering over me, he shook his head in wonder. “Again, where did you come from?”

I placed my hands back on his neck and searched his face. “I’ve been right here, waiting for you to come crashing into our lives.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Reagan . . . I love you.”

My mouth opened, and it felt like my body was being pricked by millions of needles that were either ice cold or scorching hot. I couldn’t figure out which. My heart began racing, and I was trying to figure out if I’d imagined those words that were replaying themselves over and over again. “You—”

“Love you,” he finished for me.

My mouth stretched into a wide grin seconds before I brought his face to mine. “I love you too,” I breathed against his lips, and kissed him again.

His tongue brushed against mine and I whimpered into his mouth when he pulled my body off the bed. Wrapping his arms tightly around my waist, he deepened the kiss for a few more moments before pulling back and placing a gentle kiss on the end of my nose.

“Maybe someday I’ll be able to tell you what happened. For now, this is all I need.”

“Okay.” I sighed contentedly. Turning my head to look at the clock, I frowned. I wasn’t ready for this time to end, even if only for a couple hours.

Coen’s face held the same displeasure I felt. “Do I get to see you today? Or do you have things you have to get done?”

Grabbing the ends of my hair, I nervously played with them and bit down on my cheek as I thought for a second. “What if you didn’t leave?”

Coen’s fingers went under my chin to lift my head until we were staring at each other. “What do you mean?”

“I mean what if you were here when I woke up Parker, and while he got ready—”

His dark eyes widened. “Can I take him to school?”

His question shocked me, and my head jerked back. I’d been worried he still wasn’t ready for Parker to know he stayed the night; I definitely hadn’t been prepared for that. “You—you want to take him to school?”