Page 82 of Swerve (Boosted Hearts 1)

Finally, Van crossed his arms and held my stare. “He did a job for Tomas . . . in exchange for information.”

I almost fell back on my ass when he gave that to me. The shock burned off just as fast as it came, though, because my main focus was Neco.

He was shaking slightly, lost in his own head. I didn’t need Van to elaborate. I’d seen Neco doing his “job” for Tomas once before. Neco never knew I’d seen him, but I had, and I’d known how it affected him, even back then. He’d done it for his mom.

My man was tough, could be cold and goddamn scary when he needed to. He’d maim or kill for those he loved, to right a wrong, but the people he’d hurt for Tomas . . . he’d dished out punishment for no other reason than Tomas had instructed him to. Neco would have done anything for his mother back then, to make sure she never had to sell herself again, to protect her.

But he’d gotten out as soon as he could.

There was only one reason he’d go to Tomas for information. One reason he’d put himself through this again, now.

Me.

I curled in beside him, resting my head on his shoulder, lifting my gaze to Hunter and Van. “You can go. I’ve got this.”

They both left, but not before I saw an odd look pass across Van’s face as he stared down at us. It was a mix of bewilderment, maybe even surprise.

As soon as they shut the door behind them, I wrapped my arms around him, kissing the side of his neck then, sliding my hand across his jaw, I made him look at me. He looked straight at me, eyes colder, darker than I’d ever seen them. There was nothing of my Neco there right then.

I kissed his cheek and stood. “Come on.” I held out my hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He rose from the floor, still not saying anything. I went to his desk and grabbed the spare clothes he kept in the drawer for after he worked out. Taking his hand again, I led him into the workout room and across to the bathroom/locker rooms. Thankfully, no one was down here. But just to be safe, I decided to use the women’s and locked the door behind us. Neco wouldn’t want anyone else to see him like this. Not one of the guys here would judge him, they had their own issues, but I knew he wouldn’t want that.

I turned on the shower and walked back to him.

“I’m okay,” he finally said when I was standing in front of him.

Relief washed though me. But he was full of shit and we both knew it. He was far from okay. “Is it a crime for a woman to take care of her man after a hard day?”

“Ruby . . .”

I gripped his shirt and lifted it off, flinging it aside, swallowing at the hollow note to his deep voice.

“No arguments.” I tried my best to force some lightness into mine. I was worried about him, but I didn’t want him knowing that. I crouched down and undid his boots, getting him to step out, then tugged off his socks. Standing, I undid his jeans and pushed them down, taking his boxers with them. His body was revealed to me in all its glory. Broad shoulders, sculpted chest and abs, down to narrow hips and that V that made my mouth water. His cock was soft, lying between his heavy thighs. My eyes dropped to his feet. Even his feet were gorgeous. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. God, I loved him so much it hurt.

I’d do anything for him, and that included whatever it took to ease the pain I saw in him now.

Taking his hand, I led him to the shower. He climbed in and I quickly stripped off and climbed in after him. Grabbing the soap, I lathered up and started washing him. His hands and arms first, removing all physical traces of the nightmare haunting him, watching as pink soapy water swirled around the drain, disappearing. I carried on, washing the rest of him. He watched me the whole time, his intense gaze following my hands as they moved over his body.

His cock had begun to harden, but he made no move to touch me, keeping his hands at his sides.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said roughly, voice tortured, broken.

Dropping a soapy hand to his erection, I gripped him, started stroking him slowly. A shudder moved though his entire body. “I don’t know what you did tonight,” I whispered. He shuddered again and leaned back against the wall, strong legs braced apart. “I also know you did it for me.”

I stroked him a little faster and his breath hitched, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“You’ve been there for me nearly my whole life, Neco. You don’t deserve me?” I shook my head. “We were made for each other. I don’t know about fate or anything like that, but we needed each other and someone knew that. You’ve been my one constant. My protector. My best friend . . . My lover.” I stared into his eyes. “My Superman.”

He kept his eyes open and on me as pleasure, pain transformed his features, his hips jerking forward. Then he came in hot spurts that splashed against my stomach.

The tension left his big frame and he collapsed back against the tile. “I love you,” he rasped.

I curled into him, and his arms banded tight around me, his chin resting on the top of my head. “I love you, too,” I said against his chest.

Lightning didn’t rend the sky above us, and the ground didn’t move beneath my feet. They were just words, words that meant everything and nothing all at once. Because I’d always known it and so did he.

We were written in the stars.