Page 146 of You're The One
I want to ask who we’re going after.
Until I realize it’s me—I’mthe one who hurt her.
Fuck.
“Baby, I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
She shakes her head and closes her eyes.
I’m usually so good at reading her, but her body is stiff, unreadable. She doesn’t say a word. And that terrifies me.
I stand, heart pounding, and pull back the blanket. I scoop her up before she can protest. Now sitting on the edge of the bed, I cradle her against me, pressing soft kisses to her cheeks, her jaw, the spot near her ear, her hairline.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat.
She shivers, despite being wrapped in a sweatshirt she has no business wearing in this heat.
“Can we talk?” I hold her tighter than I probably need to.
“Yeah… I need a shower first.”
It’s about the last thing I expect her to say, but it’s something. A small marching order I can follow while I figure out our next move.
“Can I take you home?”
She nods.
Even though I already know—have known for a while—it hits me.
Home is wherever she is.
FORTY-SIX
“How about a bath?”Dom offers as he carries me up the stairs in his house.
For once, I’m grateful for his coddling. My limbs feel heavy. Everything aches, even though nothing hurts. I rest my head against his shoulder, too tired to pretend I’m fine.
In the bathroom, he sets me gently on the countertop, then turns on the tub faucet, adjusting the water until he deems it just right. The sound of rushing water fills the space as he moves around the room, gathering toiletries from the shower and lining them up along the ledge of the bath.
He comes back to me, his hands steady as they settle on my hips. “Can I help you?”
I give him a jerky nod, feeling like a raw nerve.
He lifts me and sets me on my feet. He takes his time, peeling off each layer—a sweatshirt, leggings, a threadbare T-shirt, panties I’d be embarrassed for him to see if I had the capacity to feel anything, and mismatched socks.
He presses a quick kiss to my lips before scooping me into his arms again and lowering me into the warm water. The heat hits first, then the sting in my eyes. But I blink it back.
I enjoy the view of him stripping off his T-shirt, but then he pauses. “Is it okay if I join you?”
With another nod, he finishes undressing and then climbs in behind me.
“Tip your head back,” he murmurs.
I do as I’m told, and he uses the shower wand to wet my hair, then lathers it with shampoo.
“You know you don’t have to do all this.” My voice sounds thin around the lump lodged in my throat.
“But I want to.”
