Caden jumps up so suddenly the bed creaks in protest. His eyes are wild, scanning me like he’s checking for bruises, burns—evidence of something I’d never hide from him. His hands glide over my arms, my waist, my thighs, gentle but frantic.
“Caden,” I laugh softly, still breathless. “What are you doing?”
He freezes, gaze locking onto mine, and I see the storm behind his eyes. His fingers twitch against my skin. “Did he—? Baylee, be honest. Did Cade hurt you?”
I blink, surprised by the edge in his voice. “What?”
“He pushed forward,” Caden rushes out, voice tight, almost panicked. “He wouldn’t let me back. I couldn’t stop him, I couldn’t control it. I tried. I—damn it, I tried.” His hands ball into fists like he’s punishing himself. “Tell me the truth. Are you hurt?”
My smile fades, rep
