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She sealed her lips and shook her head.

“Kelsey, look at me.”

She did, reluctantly. She looked miserable. I pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. It was selfish, but I wanted to be the one person who got to see her. I wanted to be the only one with whom she didn’t feel the need to hide. “You are beautiful, that’s all I see.”

Her eyes went glassy, and I hated not knowing what to do to help her. As I watched, her head began to nod and she struggled to stay upright.

I cleared my throat, but still didn’t know what to do. She needed to rest. That was my best guess. “I, um, we should get you out of your wet swimsuit.”

I felt sick thinking about it, but I also didn’t want her to get a cold from sleeping in wet clothes.

She yawned. “Okay.” She tried to stand, but her legs wobbled and she started sinking back toward the chair before I caught her. She looked up at me as our bodies pressed together, and I had to force my eyes away because I swear I saw desire there.

She fumbled with the knot at her hip, where her complicated swimsuit connected. I watched her uselessly pluck at the fabric, her fingers weak.

In a small, quiet voice, she said, “I can’t.”

I had hold of her arms, but the rest of her body began to fall.

“It’s okay. I’ll help. It’s okay.”

Anything to take that crushed look off her face.

I lowered her into the chair, but then took a few steps back because, fuck, I needed some distance. I exhaled, dragging my hands across the top of my head and down over my face.

“What the fuck am I doing?”

How in the world was I supposed to do this?

God, give me combat. Give me death and destruction.

But this? I didn’t know how to deal with this.

“Okay,” I said aloud. I could do it. Quick. Efficient. Just enough to make her comfortable. “Okay.”

Decided, I went to my suitcase and grabbed a clean T-­shirt before returning to Kelsey. I got down on my knees in front of her and met her eyes. “Here, slip this on.”

This way I couldn’t see anything. Wouldn’t see anything.

She nodded, but didn’t move. After slipping the shirt over her head, I had to maneuver her arms through the sleeves. I was almost done when my forearm brushed against her chest, and she made a soft, sweet noise.

Fuck. Sorry. Damn it.

I berated myself silently before saying quietly, “Sorry.” Then I finished pulling the shirt on as fast as I could. Her eyes were more alert, and she watched my every move with a hunger in her gaze that was going to make this so much harder. I lowered her arm to her side, and then retreated to the other side of the room for another short break.

“Okay. Next step,” I said aloud, trying to approach this tactically. I needed to untie the knots at her hips, and then unwind the straps of fabric that wrapped around her waist and chest before attaching to the thin straps over her shoulders.

I lifted her from the chair and, with her in my arms, dragged back the covers on the bed. I laid her down and pulled the covers up to cover her.

I considered stopping there. But she shivered, and I knew I couldn’t.

I turned on the lamp next to the bed and knelt beside her. Then, like I was undressing my eighty-­six-­year-­old grandma instead of Kelsey, I reached under the covers and found the knot of the swimsuit at her hip.

She stared at me, and I could only smile in a way that I hoped wasn’t creepy.

“Are you that scared of seeing me naked?” she asked.

I finished with the first knot quickly, detaching the strap of her top from her bottoms.

“I’m not scared, sweetheart.” In fact, I liked the idea entirely too much for me to feel comfortable in this situation. I added, “I promise I won’t look.”

I stretched my arm farther under the covers, trying to uncoil the fabric from her waist, but the rest of it wound beneath her body and I couldn’t manage to slide it out.

“Can you lift yourself up? That might be easier. ”

She tried. She tried so hard.

“I can’t.” Her voice shook, and I wanted to pour out a thousand apologies for making her feel weak.

I stood and sat on the bed next to her.

“Wrap your arms around my neck, and use me to pull yourself up.”

Slowly, she pulled her arms out from under the covers. I had to help her wrap her hands around the back of my neck, though.

“Just hold on.”

With her sitting up, I slipped my hands beneath the hem of the T-­shirt that bunched around her hips. I pulled on the strap I’d untied from her hip, expecting it to unwind around her back to her chest. But when I pulled, nothing happened. The other part of the wrap must have been in the way.

“Damn it. The other piece is strapped over this one. Hang on.”

I snuck another hand beneath the T-­shirt and under the material of her swimsuit. Holding the still taut piece of fabric out from her skin, I started pulling on the other strap. Kelsey’s fingers dug into the back of my neck, reminiscent of the way they had when we kissed, and I had to pause to keep control. It didn’t help that her breath was skating across my jaw, warm and maddening.

“Hunt?”

I swallowed.

“Yeah?”

As I pulled the fabric from the first strap free, her fingers trailed from my neck to my jaw. “Tell me your other name. The one most ­people don’t call you.”

I paused to look in her eyes. Better than looking at her lips.

“You won’t remember it tomorrow, sweetheart.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to know, sweetheart.”

So much attitude.

I smiled briefly. With one strap loose, I let the hand that was holding the rest of the fabric up rest against her back. She swallowed, glancing down at my lips.

“Jackson. My name is Jackson Hunt.”

She smiled, and I returned it because I couldn’t help it.

“Well, Jackson Hunt. Stop being a pansy, and just take my clothes off.”

I laughed. Because this whole damn situation was ridiculous.

“You’re something else, you know that?”

“Like you said, I won’t remember it tomorrow. Let’s just get it over with.”

I groaned, scratching my nails across my jaw.

“But I’ll remember.” And I would never be able to look at her the same again.

She sighed, and then sat back against the pillow. My hand shifted from her back to her side as she lay down. With shaky hands, she pushed the covers down to her thighs, revealing the T-­shirt that was bunched up around her rib cage.

I tore my hand away from where it curled around her waist and looked away from her smooth golden skin.

“Jesus, Kelsey.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It is, though. I can’t take advantage of you like that. Not when you’re not sober enough to make decisions with a clear head.”

She groaned. “You’re not taking advantage of me. Been there. Done that. It felt nothing like this.”

I jerked my head around.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

That hadn’t sounded like nothing.

“Kelsey—­”

Who had taken advantage of her? Suddenly, I was so angry that I couldn’t see straight. All the pieces of me that had felt broken and useless where suddenly fused together, ready to fight whatever enemy had hurt her.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “Just help me. Please? Please.”

I wanted to push her, but pushing was what had gotten us in this mess to begin with. If I’d never had that drink, never asked her that question . . .

I thought back to that moment in the elevator when her emerald eyes had met mine, and she said I scared her. I took a deep breath and tried to think like Rodriguez. He’d never pushed me to talk about my issues, not about the mom who left or the dad who didn’t care. He waited until I opened up on my own.