Page 130 of Aine

“Come here,” Damien commands as I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around myself.

I frown, already knowing what he wants. Every fiber of my being urges me to ignore his request and walk out of the room, but knowing how guilty he feels about hurting me yesterday, I comply and sit on the toilet.

My lips purse, and I refuse to look anywhere but the ceiling tiles as Damien drops to his knees and spreads my legs so he can rub an ointment-covered finger through my folds. I suck in my cheeks as he dips it inside my entrance, reminding myself that I’m letting him do this so he doesn’t worry the next time I ask him to take me.

“You look much better than yesterday,” he says, earning a sharp glare from me. Holding back a smile, he quickly backtracks. “Not that it’s ever looked anything less than beautiful.”

My eyes roll back, and I snap my legs shut and jump to my feet the second he’s finished. He’s so embarrassing.

“That’s the last time I’m letting you do that,” I say.

Damien lifts his hands in surrender as I tighten the towel around my body and turn away. He chuckles and follows me into the bedroom, his footsteps fading as I open my closet and he goes to his.

I’m scared at the thought of him leaving today, but I push it down as I grab and throw on some random clothes.

I need to learn to be independent, and that’s never going to happen if I allow Damien to keep serving as my crutch. He deserves to live a full life that’s not tied down by my fears.

Despite his obvious attempts to hold it back, I can feel his excitement as he gets changed, the emotion solidifying my decision. He’s going to have a lot of fun today, and I’ll get to see Alex.

There’s nothing about that to be afraid of.

Damien keeps a watchful eye on me the entire morning, his head tilted in my direction even as he cooks us breakfast and yells out the back door for Alex to come over. I’m proud of myself for how convincing my smile is, and I even manage to maintain it when Alex comes in and Damien tells him he’s in charge of keeping me company today.

“You can come visit anytime you want. I’ll be back by lunch, and we can see how you’re feeling before continuing the rest of the day,” Damien says, ignoring Alex’s scoff.

I nod, gently urging him toward the back door. I wasn’t expecting him to drag his departure out for this long. Poor Alex arrived almost twenty minutes ago and has spent the entire time getting prematurely lectured by Damien.

“Yes, thank you,” I respond, giving up on subtlety as I reach around him and open the back door.

Damien looks between me and the exit with a frown, his feet shuffling as he hesitates. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he wants me to ask him to stay.

Alex, who’s remained silent this entire time, finally seems to snap as he steps forward and not-so-gently pushes Damien out of the house. Damien stumbles back a few steps, his lips turned down at the corners. I release the door and let it shut in his face, wincing as his expression turns to shock as the glass pane comes between us.

“Good work, Aine,” Alex says, his tone somber as he spins toward me.

I can tell he’s holding back a smile as he places his hands on my shoulders and turns me away from the door. Damien blinks, his left eye lowering into a wink before he finally leaves.

“I was starting to think you were ignoring me,” Alex admits as Damien disappears from my line of sight.

My face warms, embarrassed by how accurate his assumption is. I’ve been ignoring everybody, going as far as to turn people away when they come visit. I’m not proud of it, but Damien’s assured me nobody holds a grudge.

“I’m sorry about that.” I hope he can hear the sincerity in my tone. “I’ve been a bit of a hermit.”

Alex sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks me over from head to toe. I shift my weight uncomfortably before sitting on the island barstool. I hope he’s not mad at me.

“Don’t apologize,” he finally says, moving to sit on the other stool. “How’s Damien been treating you? I’ve heard some rumors, but I want to hear it from the source.”

A few months ago, all I wanted was for somebody to ask me this, to give me the opportunity to share just how poorly he was treating me. I had a whole speech prepared, a list of grievances I was eager to complain about.

But now, none of them feel relevant.

“Well?” Alex prompts when I don’t respond.

“Damien’s been kind. I have a lot of, uh, self-imposed limitations, and he’s been very patient with me.” I flush as I catch myself smiling. I look around to make sure the man in question hasn’t returned before continuing. “He told me he loves me.”

Alex raises an eyebrow, not at all looking surprised.

“I heard he’s done much more than say he loves you,” he teases. “‘Oh, Damien, oh harder.’” He moans, prompting me to launch forward and push at his chest.

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