Page 40 of The Key Holder

Fuck. Was he trying to kill me?

He tossed the towel aside, slipped on a pair of black briefs from his dresser, and pulled a gray t-shirt over his head. A few seconds later, he had joined me under the covers and was only a few feet away.

We lay there in silence for a moment, the lantern still on, listening to the rain. It still fell steadily, but the rumbles of thunder were becoming less frequent.

"Thank you," I whispered, the words felt comically inadequate for the circumstances.

He turned his head to look at me, his eyes gentle in the dim light. "For what?"

"For everything.” I shifted my weight, so I was on my side. “For fixing the roof, for carrying me, for taking care of me…my body.” I trailed off.

He reached out and gently brushed my cheek with the back of his finger. "Anyone would have done the same, Dylan."

"No," I said softly, savoring his touch. "Not everyone. You were…you were so calm. And you didn't panic…about anything."

He gave a small, playful smile. "Well, I figured you had enough to worry about. Besides," he added, his voice dropping to a low murmur, "I’d never let anything happen to you."

I swore my heart fucking fluttered. His simple words, delivered with such raw sincerity, were more comforting than they had any right to be. My deepest secret had been laid bare, literally, and this was how he acted.

I wanted to say something else, something profound, but instead a wave of intense feelings overwhelmed me. The fear, the helplessness, the embarrassment, the shock, the vulnerability. All of it came barreling down, and before I knew it, a sob lodged in my throat.

I desperately tried to suppress it, to push it back down. He had already seen me, a helpless, worthless, caged boy, frozen by fear and incapable of taking care of himself.

I couldn’t cry. Not now. Not like this.

But it was too strong. Tears welled up, blurring my vision, and then they streamed down my face.

"Hey now," Ford's voice was immediate. His fingers returned, cupping my neck. I felt his weight shift, and the bed dipped, close to me. “What's wrong? Does something hurt?"

I shook my head, unable to speak, the tears falling faster now. The first sob broke, deep and intense, and the rest were coming faster now.

I hadn’t cried this hard since I found out Dean had cheated on me.

But it was a release I needed. Then and now.

Ford didn't ask any more questions. Instead, he pushed himself up, leaning against the headboard, and pulled me closer. His arm came around my shoulders, drawing me against him. I buried my face against his stomach, feeling the solid warmth of his body, and wrapped my leg around his. He smelled like the rain.

His other hand was stroking my hair, in that slow, comforting way that my mom did when I was sick. “It's okay," he whispered, close enough for me to feel his breath against my ear. "Just let it out. You're safe now. I've got you."

In that moment and without question, I knew two things: I loved this man, and I wanted his love in return.

I cried until there were no more tears, until my body felt wrung out and heavy.

The entire time, Ford held me, his touch a constant reassurance that I was safe. His presence was a silent anchor in the storm that raged outside, and the one inside me. The one I’d come here to reflect on, to change.

When my sobs finally gave to erratic, shuddering breaths, he didn’t pull away. He just held me, warm and steady, adding gentle touches and squeezes every now and then, until I felt like a person again.

“Was the damage bad?” I asked.

“I don’t think it’s as bad as I thought, but we’ll know for sure in the morning. Hopefully the storm lets up soon.”

“What did you do out there?”

“Well, besides getting wet, I ran to the shed to get the ladder then set that up. I ran back to grab a tarp and the staple gun. After getting that on there, I realized I needed another tarp, so back down I went, found another one, and that was that. I came back to the porch, stripped, rinsed off, grabbed a towel from the downstairs hallway, and then checked your room. You know the rest.”

“I can’t believe you went up a ladder in the middle of a rainstorm.”

“The one positive to the giant branch that’s up there is I had quite a few things to grab hold of.”