Whoa : A Westbrook Elite Standalone by Cambria Hebert

Author:Cambria Hebert [Hebert, Cambria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cambria Hebert Books, LLC
Published: 2023-12-07T16:00:00+00:00

23

Kruger

By the time we hauled Jess’s stuff upstairs into Wes’s old bedroom—he roomed with Max now—and everyone left, it was late, the sky long dark. And while everything around us calmed down, everything inside me was more stirred up than ever.

I’d been holding back a lot of my personal reactions to finding Jess locked in a washing machine, watching her spill out, sputtering, half-drowned, and scared to death. I didn’t share my thoughts while sitting with her at the hospital and through being questioned by the cops, all the while knowing if we’d been just a couple minutes later, she might be dead.

No matter how many times I went over it, I couldn’t figure out who would do this. Or why.

It was making me crazy. Making me doubt myself. Was there something going on in her life I hadn’t known about? Did she have some sort of relationship with someone I didn’t know—someone who was now trying to hurt her?

I couldn’t even ask Jess because she didn’t know either.

I was operating in the dark, balancing between truth and lies. Guilt and responsibility chewed on my conscience, making me prickly and on edge.

What a fucking clusterfuck. And I had no idea how to fix any of it. The only thing I knew for sure was that whoever was trying to hurt my girl was going to fucking pay.

“Ben?” she called as though she knew I was spiraling inward and wanted to bring me back.

I turned to where she sat on the foot of the bed, plaid blankets beneath her, her long legs stretching far enough so her feet rested on the floor.

Her long brown hair was rumpled from everything and cascaded over her shoulders in tangled waves, and her cheeks were still pale.

“I’m gonna take the couch.” I pointed to the door, a lump in my throat.

Surprise flitted through her expression. “The couch?”

“Mm.” I agreed.

“Why?”

“Ahh,” I scratched behind my ear. “So you can be comfortable.”

“Why would I be more comfortable with you on the couch?”

“I’m just trying to do the right thing,” I told her, strained. If she only knew how damn hard it was to walk away. To not tackle her onto the bed and hold on so tight she molded to my frame.

But how could I? How could I do that when I’m pretty sure it’s not what she would want if she could remember?

“But you slept with me in the hospital and then in your dorm room last night.”

Had that only been last night? God, it felt like forever ago.

“You were having nightmares.” I defended. “I don’t like hearing you cry.”

“You don’t?”

I scoffed.

“What if I have more nightmares tonight?”

“I’ll hear you. I’ll come.”

“Or you could just stay.”

My chest clenched, squeezing my heart uncomfortably. I stared at her for long moments, a war raging inside me, a war between what was right and what I wanted. It was so hard to deny myself when she looked at me like that.

I never quite realized it before, or maybe I had. Maybe that was why I’d spent so many years trying to be worthy.

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