Page 27 of Guardian Angel
I turned to look at him. “What would it take for you to talk to me?”
He glanced up, peering at me over the edge of his sketchbook. “Would you cancel your shifts at the café?”
“For how long?” A part of me couldn’t believe I was considering this, but in truth I wasn’t all that keen on showing off my bruises to my coworkers.
“All week,” he said, his eyes holding mine.
“Okay. I’ll call Merida.”
A flash of surprise crossed his face as I pulled out my phone and lied about being sick for the first time in my barista career. I could have told her about being strangled yesterday and she probably would have been okay with me taking the week off, but I didn’t want to share that detail of my life. It was bad enough that Kylie had to see the dark purple finger marks on my neck. I didn’t need anyone else who cared about me seeing them too.
“You actually did it.” Nathaniel closed the sketchbook, tucking it into the backpack by his feet.
I shrugged. “I didn’t really want to face anyone anyway.”
He was off the couch and kneeling in front of me before I could blink. One hand gently brushed a lock of my hair behind my ear. “Are you okay? Honestly?”
“I’m fine.” Though the fact that I couldn’t meet his eyes when I said it kind of suggested otherwise.
“Sierra, look at me.”
I bit my lower lip.
“Sierra.” He cupped my cheek in his palm, running his thumb over my cheekbone and slowly turning my face toward his. His brilliant green eyes searched mine as if he were trying to see into my soul. It was the first time he’d looked at me with this kind of seriousness. Despite our situation, he’d always had a kind of flippant attitude toward everything he said or did. “I’m sorry. I promised you no one would hurt one hair on your head.”
“It’s not your fault. You told me to stay out of it, and I didn’t listen.”
“I still shouldn’t have let it happen.” His fingers glided over my cheek and down my neck so softly it felt like he was touching me with a feather. “We should probably get some sleep.”
I nodded, too emotionally drained to argue.
I paused at the hall, looking back to where Nathaniel was stretching out on the couch. I didn’t want to be alone, but I didn’t dare ask him to join me in my room. I couldn’t face the rejection right now.
* * *
By the timeI came out of my bedroom in the morning, Kylie had already left for school.
Nathaniel was on the couch, flipping through a book with a shirtless hockey player on the cover. I must have left it out in the living room. Crap. I’m not ashamed of the books I read, but that didn’t mean I wanted Nathaniel reading them. It felt too intimate somehow, like he was reading a road map to my soul.
“What are you doing?”
He glanced up from the book. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“But… why?”
His lips curved up in a smirk. “Because this book isn’t half-bad, and you’ve been dead to the world for the past fourteen hours.”
“Fourteen?” I shrieked, my gaze flying to the clock on the living room wall.
He chuckled. “You’ve had a traumatic weekend. You’re allowed to sleep in.”
I supposed he was right. There was nothing I had to do today or any other day for the rest of the week. “So now that you’ve convinced me to take the week off from work, what are we going to do?”
“You said you wanted to talk.” He patted the couch cushion beside him. “Let’s talk. I’ll even answer some of your questions under one condition.”
“What’s that?” I asked, sitting down beside him.
“For every question of yours that I answer, you have to answer one of mine.”