Page 66 of A Billionaire Rebel

I refused to worry about that right now, though. Tonight, we were all safe. Jamie and Kevin were with Mom and Dad, and now they knew the whole truth about what’d happened with Spencer, from the complete reason I’d broken up with him to the threats he’d made while cops had been dragging him out of the apartment.

The doctor who’d wrapped my hand had given me pain meds strong enough that I didn’t feel the bruises on my wrists or the ache I knew would be in my muscles come morning. The physical pain hadn’t been the first concern in my mind, though. That spot went to the man sitting next to me.

Damon had only left my side at the hospital when the cops had told us they needed to take separate statements. He’d even refused to have any doctors look at him, saying he didn’t need anyone to tell him that he had a couple bruises. As soon as the cops had finished with our statements, he’d come back to me, and he’d been hovering ever since.

Hovering, but not touching.

I wasn’t upset with him, especially since I was the one who’d screwed things up with us in the first place, but I wasn’t going to wait long to find out if he was just feeling protective or if there could still be something between us.

He’d asked me to come home with him, which made me hopeful, but I wasn’t going to assume anything. For all I knew, he was just being the good man I knew he was and giving me a safe place to stay while allowing Mom and Dad to have time to process this new information. They and Jamie had several years of unnecessary tension to work through.

Neither Damon nor I said anything until we were in his living room.

“Are you hungry?”

I shook my head and then shivered. My clothes were damp rather than soaked, but going from the rain to air-conditioning and back again had left me chilled.

“Shit, Jae, I’m sorry.” He put his hand on my cheek. “You’re freezing. Let’s get you into a bath. Unless you want a shower. Whichever, it needs to be hot.”

“Damon…”

“Get out of these wet clothes and into hot water. Use my bathroom. I’m going to find you something to wear.”

“Damon…”

He put his finger on my lips and kissed my forehead. “Go. Get warm. Get clean.”

He was half a dozen steps away when I finally said the one question that I needed answered. “Are you doing this because you feel sorry for me?”

The shock on his face registered a second before I realized that he was coming back toward me. He took my face between his hands, his eyes blazing, and kissed me. Heat rushed through me, chasing away the deeper chill that had nothing to do with the physical.

“I don’t feel sorry for you, Jae.” He rested his forehead on mine, and his voice was rough. “I’m in awe of you. Of your strength and your loyalty and your love.”

I closed my eyes, tears burning as they threatened to spill. “I’m so sorry, Damon. I didn’t want to push you away–”

“I know,” he said. “I know.”

He wrapped his arms around me, and it was better than any shower could even be. I rested my head on his chest, absorbing his strength. Was it possible that I hadn’t done irreparable damage? That we could move past this?

After a few minutes, Damon spoke. “Let’s get you into the shower.”

I nodded and let him lead me through his bedroom and into the master bathroom. The only things Jamie and I had taken from the apartment had been our purses, and Damon took mine now and set it on the counter. After turning on the shower, he reached out and squeezed my hand.

“I’ll be back in a minute with something for you to wear when you get out.”

I stood there in the middle of the bathroom, not moving even after the door closed behind him. With him not nearby, I was…numb. Not because I didn’t feel anything, but because I was feeling too much. Having too many thoughts.

The mirror began to steam up, and I finally started to move. I piled my clothes on the floor because I didn’t see a trash can that could fit everything. I didn’t plan on wearing any of it again. I wouldn’t be able to look at them without thinking about Spencer and what he tried to do. Fortunately, they weren’t anything irreplaceable.

When I stepped under the showerhead, I closed my eyes and sighed in relief. The water pressure was amazing, pounding against my tense muscles. I opened them when I heard the glass door sliding open and smiled at Damon as he stepped inside. He joined me under the spray, and I reached out to trace my fingers over the initials on his chest.

“Your mom?”

He nodded, sadness in his eyes. “She would’ve liked you.”

“I’m sure I would’ve liked her too.” I picked up the shampoo and squirted some into my palm. “Turn around.”

He did, and I took a moment to admire the intricacies of the cross tattoo on his back before reaching up to work the sandalwood-scented shampoo into his hair. Despite how insanely good he looked naked and wet, this wasn’t sexual. I couldn’t say exactly what itwas, but it wasn’t sex.

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