Straddling the Line

SIXTEEN

HAVEN WALKED THE STERILE WHITE CORRIDORS, knowing what waited for her in that room. She dreaded it, but knew she had to go there, to be with her dad.

He needed her, and she’d endure anything just to be there for him. There wasn’t much time left.

She took a deep, stabilizing breath and entered the room.

It was empty. She looked all around, but she couldn’t find him. “Dad?” She called out, but he didn’t answer.

She hurried out of the room, running as fast as she could, but it was like running in mud. Her legs weren’t working right.

“Dad? Where are you? I can’t find you.”

Haven.

She heard his voice calling her name and ran to the sound. But still, she could barely move, let alone run.

Haven.

His voice grew more faint. She struggled, forcing her legs and feet to push harder. This was so damn frustrating. She had to get to him before it was too late.

“I’m coming, Dad. I’m trying to find you. Where are you?”

She felt the wetness of tears roll down her face, knew she wasn’t going to reach him in time.

Suddenly, there he was, at the end of the hall. So close, and yet an ocean’s distance away, because as she looked at him, so frail, so thin as he reached his arms out for her, she could already see he was disappearing.

“No, Dad, no. Please don’t go.”

She let out a gasping sob, trying to reach him as he held his arms out.

Haven. I have to go.

“Daddy, no. Please don’t leave me.”

But it was too late. He was gone.

She dropped to the ground and released the wall of tears.

“Haven. Haven, wake up.”

She shot up in bed, still crying, and turned her face into Trevor’s shoulder, wrapping her arms around someone solid, someone real.

“Shh, it’s okay, honey.”

She couldn’t even form words right then because the dream had been so vivid to her, the ache of losing her father all over again hurting so badly it made her throat close up, made her heart hurt.

Trevor didn’t even ask, just stroked her back and murmured words of comfort as he held tight to her until she cried out the anguish of loss. When the gasping sobs subsided and she had nothing left, he reached over on the nightstand and handed her a box of tissues. She blew her nose and dried her eyes.

And then he held her, not speaking until her breathing returned to normal.

She couldn’t talk about it. She hoped to God he wouldn’t ask.

Trevor pulled back, his face etched with concern. “I’m going to get you a drink. I’ll be right back. Are you going to be okay?”

She nodded.

He slid out of bed and left the bedroom, giving her a few minutes to dash into the bathroom. She flipped on the light, splashed water on her face, blew her nose a few more times, then finally looked up.

God, she looked like she’d been on an all-night bender. Her eyes were tear-stained and swollen, her nose all red, and she looked—awful. How embarrassing to have that nightmare after she and Trevor had just had a fun night together.

She should have known better than to get involved with someone. She just wasn’t ready yet. She’d opened up the emotional floodgates and look what happened.

She went back into the bedroom and threw on a pair of sweats and a tank top, then crawled on top of the covers.

Trevor came back in, still gloriously, beautifully naked. For a second, she thought about changing her mind, but refused to waver. She was making the right choice.

The only choice.

“Here, drink this.”

“Thanks.” She was ridiculously dehydrated after all that crying, so she took a few deep swallows, then set the glass aside. “I’m fine now. And actually really wiped.”

He started to climb into bed with her, but she stood. “I think I’d sleep better alone.”

He arched a brow. “I thought maybe you’d want to talk about your nightmare.”

She let out a short laugh. “That’s the last thing I want to talk about. I’d rather forget it, and get some sleep. And you probably should, too. Like, in your own bed.”

He didn’t move, just sat on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong, Haven?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just need to be alone.”

“Something about that dream freaked you out. You should talk about it.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to go back to sleep. And honestly, I’m not much for bedmates. Don’t take it personally.”

“So, you’re kicking me out.”

“Um . . . yes. Sorry. But it’s not you, it’s me. Really. I just know I won’t get any sleep tonight with you here. It’s just a weird quirk of mine. I hope you understand.”

Her excuse sounded incredibly lame, even to her own ears.

“Not a problem.” He grabbed his clothes and got dressed, then came to her, sliding his hands up and down her arms, generating heat despite her discomfort.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“I’m fine. Thanks for the water and for . . . you know—being there. It was just a silly nightmare. Zombies or something. I don’t even remember most of it now. Honestly.” She finished it off with a shrug.

He didn’t look like he believed her. “If you’re sure.”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She was already walking him to her bedroom door. “Okay.”

As soon as he left her room, she shut the door and leaned against it, tears pricking her eyes again.

Why did she throw him out? Why couldn’t she let him stay and offer her comfort? And why wouldn’t she tell him about her dream about her dad?

Because that would have required her to open up emotionally, and she needed to maintain her distance. She’d already made a mistake by having sex with him, and she couldn’t afford to get any closer to him.

It was better this way. She pulled off her clothes and climbed back into bed, which now seemed colder, bigger, and emptier without Trevor’s body to warm her, and memories of her father still lingered after her dream.

She was lonely, which was her doing. It was for the best, right?

She knew she’d never go back to sleep the rest of the night.

TREVOR SAT IN HIS ROOM, STARING OUT THE WINDOW. Part of him wanted to go back over to Haven’s wing, knock on her door, and make her talk to him about that nightmare.

She’d been upset. More upset than just a run-of-the-mill bad dream. It had to be something deeper, but hell, she’d asked him to leave. What the hell was he supposed to do? Force her to let him stay? He had to go, had to give her the space she’d asked for.

Though he didn’t think being alone and upset like that was what she’d really wanted.

He dragged his fingers through his hair and paced his room, wide awake now and knowing he wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep. He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, clicking through until he found the sports channel. He settled back on the bed and tried to concentrate on the rehash of yesterday’s baseball games, but he couldn’t concentrate.

His thoughts kept coming back to Haven, on how she’d been crying out in her sleep, how he’d had to wake her and how she’d thrown herself against him, sobbing.

His gut tightened as he remembered how it felt to feel her body wrapped against his while she cried. He’d wanted to offer her comfort, but instead, all she’d wanted was to be left alone.

That wasn’t right. No one should be alone when they were hurting like that.

He shouldn’t have left her.

Dammit. He didn’t know what to do about her—for her.

But he was determined to figure her out.