Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“Did I do this to you?” he asks, his tone tight with anger.
I don’t know what the damage is to my face, but I’m not about to tell this man he hurt me because then he’ll never sleep in the same bed as me again.
I quickly shake my head. “I knocked my face against the bedside table in my hurry to get to you.”
“Christ, Cassia,” he growls while taking me by the hand and dragging me to the kitchen.
He grips hold of my hips and sets my butt down on the counter. I watch as he opens the freezer and grabs a frozen pack of ground beef, which he wraps in a dishtowel.
I was lying with my head on his shoulder when I fell asleep. I think when he turned and threw himself off the bed, his shoulder connected with my face.
“Does it look bad?” I ask when he presses the makeshift icepack to my jaw.
“There’s a red mark from the corner of your mouth to your chin,” he mutters. His eyes lock with mine. “Please be more careful in the future.” He lifts the icepack to check the mark again before gently pressing it back in place.
I just nod, and wanting to talk about what just happened, I ask, “Do you get nightmares often?”
He shrugs. “It comes and goes. Sometimes, I don’t have any for a while, and other times, I have them every night.” He lifts his other hand and tucks some of my hair behind my ear. “I’ll sleep somewhere else when I go through a bad patch.”
“Like hell you will,” I mutter.
His gaze narrows on me. “You got hurt tonight, Cassia. What if I hurt you while I’m having a nightmare?”
I place my hand over his that’s holding the ice pack and lightly shake my head. “You won’t hurt me.”
“I have no control when I’m out of it.”
“You do,” I argue. “You were going to punch me, but when I called your name, you stopped and woke up.”
His features turn to stone, and his voice is dangerously low as he asks, “I almost punched you?”
Oh shit.
I wave a hand through the air. “I wouldn’t even call it a punch. I think you were just going to shove me away. The point is you woke up when I called your name.”
He takes a step backward and levels me with a look that says he knows I’m lying.
“Tell me what happened,” he demands.
I quickly shake my head. “You’ll overreact.”
Knight’s eyes flick to the blemish on my jaw. “Did I hit you?”
“Jesus, no!” I slip off the counter, and when I move closer to him, he counters my steps by moving backward. “Lincoln, stop.” This time, when I move closer, he keeps still and I’m able to place my hands on his chest while saying. “You didn’t hit me. I swear on my life.”
Relief softens his stony features a little. “What happened?”
I let out a sigh before reluctantly admitting, “Your shoulder knocked into my jaw when you rolled off the bed. I got off, and when I tried to shake you awake, you pulled your arm back, but…,” I hold up my hand to silence Knight when it looks like he’s going to interrupt me, “when I called your name, you woke up and instantly stopped.”
Looking very upset, he shakes his head at me. “I’m never sleeping in the same room as you again.”
I throw my hands in the air. “See, that’s why I didn’t want to tell you.” Leveling him with a glare, I say, “You’re blowing this way out of proportion.”
“Like hell I am,” he snaps at me. “I fucking hurt you, Cassia.”
“It was an accident.” I cross my arms over my chest, refusing to back down. “Hell, it could happen when you turn onto your side. I could knee you while sleeping. It happens.”
Knight only stares at me.
“I’m fine.” Giving him a pleading look, I take his hand in both of mine. “Look, I’ll make you a deal. If you ever end up punching me while having a nightmare, I’ll agree to separate beds.”
“I’d rather avoid hitting you altogether,” he grumbles.
I wrap my arms around his waist and press my body to his while looking up at him. “Deal?”
Lifting his hand, he gently brushes his fingers over my jaw. “We’ll see.”
I press a kiss to the cut over his heart, then ask, “Want to talk about the nightmare?”
He looks at me for a moment, then says, “It was a flashback of that day.”
“Have you ever tried getting therapy?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not going to talk to a stranger about Ronnie.”
I give him a pleading look. “Will you talk to me? It might help.”
He nods, but then says, “Not tonight, though. Another time.”
“Okay.” Letting go of him, I turn around and take the packet of ground beef from the towel. After I place it back in the freezer, I nod toward the doorway. “Let’s go back to bed.”