Rock with Me (With Me in Seattle, #4)(45)

“You broke me.”

He laughs as he settles next to me, rolling me onto my side and into his arms. “I don’t think so.”

“Mmm.”

“Look at me.” I pull my eyes open to find him frowning down at me. “Are you okay?”

I nod and yawn and shimmy closer to him. He runs his knuckles down my face and his expression softens.

“Thank you for my song,” I whisper.

“You’re welcome.”

“Are you going to record it?” I ask, blinking lazily up at him.

“Yes, if you don’t mind.”

I shrug. “I don’t mind. You just don’t usually do many ballads.”

“It’s a badass ballad, not a * ballad,” he mutters defensively and I smile widely.

“Definitely badass,” I agree.

“Go to sleep, baby.” He kisses my forehead.

“Not tired,” I mutter and smile when his chuckle rumbles against my cheek.

“Sure you’re not.” He kisses my forehead again and sighs deeply, contentedly, and the sound of his steady heartbeat and the warmth of his arms around me lull me into sleep.

***

“No, no, no!”

I wake abruptly, eyes wide, to find Leo thrashing in his sleep, soaked in sweat. The covers have all been kicked onto the floor, along with his pillow. He’s not touching me at all, and the sounds coming from him are tortured, strained.

“Leo?” I ask carefully, not knowing if I should touch him, or even wake him. He thrashes again and grimaces, as if in pain.

“No, you motherf*cker!” Tears begin to fall from his eyes.

What the f*ck is this?

“Leo, wake up,” I state firmly, and touch his arm gently. He recoils from my touch and his eyes spring open. He sits straight up and shoves himself against the headboard, pulling away from me as if I’m going to hurt him.

“Hey, sweetie, it’s me,” I croon quietly. “You’re okay.”

He blinks at me for a minute, looks around the room, and then exhales deeply.

“Fuck,” he whispers and clenches his eyes closed before pressing the heels of his hands against them.

“Leo.” I reach out for him, but he recoils again.

“Don’t touch me.” His voice is harsh. Angry.

Not Leo.

“Okay.” I hold my hands up and back away. “Okay.”

Suddenly, his eyes go wide and he grips his hands over his mouth, flees the bed for the bathroom and throws up violently.

Oh my God. My poor Leo.

What should I do? I sit still for a minute, and when it sounds like the retching is over, I stand and wet a washcloth and press it to his neck, like he did for me when I was sick. Before I can pull my hand away, he grips it in his and holds on tight, pressing it against his cheek.

“Don’t go. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere.” I sink to my knees beside him and stroke his hair, his cheek, his back. “I’m here.”

His eyes are clenched shut and he’s concentrating on breathing. Whatever it was that he was dreaming about is still repeating in his mind, and it’s terrifying him.

“Stop,” I murmur and kiss his temple. “You’re safe, Leo. It was just a dream.” I continue to reassure him and murmur softly, comforting him, until the shudders stop and he’s breathing normally again. He turns suddenly and grips onto me, buries his face in my neck, wraps his arms around my middle, and just clings.

Finally, after a few long minutes he backs away and I wipe his face with the cloth, trying to soothe him.

“I’m okay.” He takes the cloth from me and scrubs it across the back of his neck and looks at me, square-on. His eyes are sad, still a little haunted.

“Want to talk about it?” I ask.

He shakes his head and stands, crosses to the sink and rinses his mouth, splashes his face with cold water and then just braces his hands on the counter top and hangs his head while the water runs.

It occurs to me that we’re both still naked as the day we were born.

I stand and turn off the water and take Leo’s hand to lead him back to the bed. He climbs on and I pull the covers up, spreading them over us and hand him his pillow.

“I can’t go back to sleep,” he murmurs.

“The nightmares won’t bother you,” I tell him confidently and wrap myself around him, as if I’m protecting him.

“How do you know?”

“Because I’m here, and I said so.” I shrug, like that should be the end of it and flinch when he runs a hand down my back.

“You haven’t flinched in a while.” I hear the sadness in his voice and I prop myself up on my forearms on his chest so I can watch his face as I talk.

“I just didn’t expect you to try to comfort me right now, Leo. I’m comforting you, and for the first time in my life, it doesn’t scare the f*ck out of me.” His eyes widen and he pulls his fingertips down my cheeks. “I enjoy having your hands on me. Please don’t start thinking that I’m afraid of you or some bullshit like that because you’ll just piss me off.”

“So, this is you comforting me?” He asks with a grin.

I exhale and rest my forehead against his sternum. “Big jerk,” I mutter.