He's the man who roared into my life like a heated summer night storm and saved me, even if he doesn't know it.
"Ad?" Crew's voice cracks through the still air. "Jesus, Adley."
I feel him before he's near me; the surge of feverish energy emanating from him is almost palpable. He's on his hands and knees before I can form a thought.
"Sweetheart." He pulls me into his big body from behind, his arms circling me. "Ad, please. You're scaring the fuck out of me. Tell me what's wrong."
I turn over quickly, burying my face in his bare chest. I cry every tear I've held in for the past five years as I cling to the man I can't live without.
Chapter 24
Crew
Time passes. Not quickly but at a snail's pace. I hold her tightly, wishing I could take her to my bed and keep her there, away from whatever or whoever caused this.
I got home hours ago, but she was already shuttered away in her room. I listened by the door, tempted to knock but there was no noise behind it. I took a walk outside around the property and looked in the direction of her bedroom. The curtains were drawn and the lights off so I ignored the urge to text her and I went to my room with a bottle of scotch.
I've seen her cry before but not like this.
This sliced me in two. I heard her call out as I went over projection numbers for the Matiz location in Phoenix. I took another sip of my drink to numb the pain I've been feeling since this afternoon when she told me that she needs me as a friend; just a friend, nothing more.
When I got out here she was on the floor. Broken.
"I've got you," I whisper again, for the third time.
I can't tell if my words are comforting or pissing her off. She hasn't responded. She hasn't moved. Her arms are wrapped around me, her head resting against my chest.
"Whatever it is, I can help." I can. Whatever the fuck happened, I can fix it.
Her legs move slightly, but she's as silent as she's been since I got on this cold, hard floor.
I press a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm going to pick you up. All you need to do is hold on."
"No," she whispers faintly. I barely hear it.
I'll stay on this fucking floor all night if what's what she wants, but I want her comfortable. "Let me put you on the sofa."
"I can get up," she hiccups out as her tears stop. "I can do it."
I know she can. She can do anything she puts her mind to, other than deal with whatever the fuck has gouged its way into her so deep that it's dragging her down.
I roll back and bounce to my feet, holding out a hand to help her.
She looks up, her face a swollen mess of despair. "I thought you were still out."
I nudge her up by her elbow, wrapping my arm around her waist. The skin on skin contact does my cock a favor. I'm dressed in pajama bottoms and nothing else. I can't mask what I'm feeling. I don't want to.
I might have agreed, in principle, to be the best friend forever, but that doesn't quiet my body's need for her.
She looks down at my obvious erection, straining against the soft black silk.
"I should go back to bed." Her eyes lock on mine. "Did I wake you?"
I shove both hands through my hair and exhale. I need to cool down. It suddenly feels hot as hell in here. "I was up."
"When did you get back?"
"Earlier," I offer without any explanation.