“When you’re asleep you’re vulnerable. People can do stuff. And you don’t know until it’s happening.”

Sick, he clenched his hands into fists.

“So I had enough of that. When I left . . . when I came out to L.A., I made myself many promises. That was one. I don’t think you’d hurt me.” She started to cry and it seemed to startle her as much as it did him. “I don’t. But I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know. I’m not normal, Jonah. I’m jagged and f**ked up and I don’t know if this is going to work between us because you have a normal life and you have people who love you and you can sleep in the same room with someone and not have nightmares about being raped.”

He was up, moving to her before he knew it. He pulled her into his arms and they both went to the floor. He rocked her, her tears on his skin, her entire body trembling as he stroked a hand over her hair and made wordless sounds to comfort what couldn’t ever be comforted.

He held his own emotion back. Just barely. But he knew she needed to get it out. The way she sobbed he bet she hadn’t given in to tears in years. This needed to be about her, and if he let go of the rage simmering in his belly, she’d hold back. And God knew she’d held back more than enough for far too long.

She finally quieted down and after a time he pulled back enough to look into her face. Her gaze was down and he kissed her forehead. “Hey.”

“I’m so sorry.” She tried to move but he held her in place.

“I don’t accept your apology. You don’t get to apologize for having emotions. Now. How about some tea?” He stood, bringing her to her feet along with him. He kept an arm around her waist as he moved to the kitchen area.

She said nothing as he deposited her on a stool at the kitchen island and rustled through her cabinets. “Christ, who knew you’d be the type to have ninety types of tea?”

She sighed and he looked back over his shoulder. “You’re going to have to help me. Which?” He waved a hand at the array of tea she had in her cabinet.

“The one with the sleepy bear on it.”

“Ah. Makes sense I guess.”

He put water in her teakettle and teabags in the mugs.

“I don’t know what to say. Other than I’m honored you shared so much with me. And that you’re amazing.”

“I’m not amazing. I’m someone who had some bad shit happen to her. It’s not unique. It doesn’t make me special or amazing. I told you this before.”

“And you were full of shit then too.”

She sighed again, so much emotion in such a simple thing. He knew he had to back off, to let all the stuff she’d said—and the fact that she’d said it—percolate. She needed it, that space. But he wanted so badly to gather her up and take care of her.

“So I have a proposal.”

“Does it involve your c**k and any part of my anatomy?”

He grinned at her. “You know me so well. But actually, not this time. Maybe later though. I have several guest rooms. How about you come back to my house. You can use my bathroom to your heart’s content. You can sleep over in one of the spare rooms.”

Wariness warred with exhaustion in her features.

“There are locks. On the doors, I mean. My house has a great security system too. No one can get in without my knowing it. I’ll leave you be. Until the morning anyway. We haven’t had morning sex yet and so, well, when you wake up you can come to me.”

She wanted to say yes. Really badly. Not least of which because she really loved his bathroom and that claw-foot tub looked like heaven on earth.

“I promise to leave you alone.” The kettle whistled and he turned to take care of it and pour the water to steep. “I’ll be there if you want me. But I’ll let you make the choices. Don’t be alone tonight. I’m going to worry about you if you’re not with me. And I know that’s selfish.”

“And manipulative.”

He handed the mug her way. “That too. I want you there. For both of us. But you’re so f**king stubborn you’ll say no, thinking you don’t need it. But you do. And it’s been a hard day and I want you to have it. I want you to sleep tonight knowing I’m just down the hall if you want me. I want you to be in my house when I wake up. I want you to sit at my table and drink coffee with me in the morning. Let me take care of you. Let yourself be taken care of.”

“Why does it matter to you?” She needed to know, though she wasn’t sure how she’d feel when he answered.

“It matters because you matter. I can’t remove your past. I can’t kill anyone to avenge you. I can’t make it better that way. But the thought of you here alone after all the stuff you’ve revealed tonight? After the shit with Gwen and my mother, after what you’ve told me about sleeping alone? It tears me up. Because I care about you and I want you to know you mean something to me. I want you to understand I’d do anything for you, including going back to my house alone if that’s what you need. But I don’t think it is. I think you’ve been alone for so long you think it’s normal. But it’s not. Let someone care about you. Let me f**king help in some way.”

She took the bag out of her mug and sipped. Chamomile would soothe her nerves and her stomach too.

“All right,” she said at last.

He sighed, his shoulders relaxing. “Good. Drink your tea and we can get a bag together for you.”