Page 50 of Broken & Bound

“Bella—”

“I know, okay,” she huffed.

I drew in a deep breath. “Roll over and let me look at your ass. I didn’t bring any cream for it. Didn’t think I’d need to.”

She rolled over without arguing. Thank God for small favors. She had a few raised welts and winced as I traced one of them. I shook my head and went back into the bathroom to run her a bath. I adjusted the temperature of the water and plugged the tub. Standing, I was startled to see her standing in the doorway.

“I need to use the bathroom,” she said.

I nodded and gave her some privacy. A string of curses arose a few minutes later, letting me know she had gotten into the tub like a good girl.

“You ruined me again,” she quipped as I stood in the doorway watching her. “Join me?”

I shook my head. “I understand that you need time, but you’ve changed the subject, distracted me, or refused to answer outright each time it’s brought up. We can’t keep this a secret unless your plan is to stay away from me entirely when we get home.”

“It’s not that easy.” She hugged her knees to her chest.

“He’s going to find out, eventually. I’d rather it not be by catching us.”

She chewed her bottom lip. “I know. I…he isn’t going to react well. He’s been different, especially lately.”

“I know, trust me. I’ve been dealing with him for over a month now. He loves you and wants you safe. I understand it’s tied to what happened to you as a child. I can’t imagine, though, that he would begrudge you happiness.”

Her eyes drifted away, and she gulped. My nerves shot into high gear. Maybe she was having second thoughts. I wasn’t about to play the guessing game about this. We were both fucking adults.

“I’m pretty sure I told you my biggest pet-peeve is lack of communication. If you’ve changed your mind and this…” I pointed between her and me, “isn’t what you want, or you’re not happy, speak now.”

Our eyes lock. “I do want this, you.”

A warmth spread through me at her words, but the uncertainty remained. I walked over to the tub and knelt beside her. She reached out a hand and ran it across my face.

“I’m scared. What if he doesn’t understand? What if he refuses to come to terms with it? What if he comes between us?”

“He won’t come between us if we stand united. And again, he’s not going to refuse you happiness. He may need time to adjust. But I need to know that you’re with me on this. That we’re together.”

Her eyes softened, and she removed her hand.

“It’s not like I’m not nervous,” I said, knowing I needed to tell her. “It’s important that you know. Bash booked me a room at the club. He figures I’ll need it, since he has no idea what a freak his sister is.”

“Oh,” she mumbled.

“And not only that, but he expects my help with some restructuring of the nightly activities.”

“Meaning?” she asked, a frown forming on her pretty face, her brow furrowed in concern.

“Yeah, the perks were fine before. But fuck, how the hell am I supposed to navigate that? I can’t exactly say 'no’ without raising suspicion. It’s bad enough he’s going to think I betrayed him. He laments all the time about the guys not being a part of things.”

“That’s because he doesn’t have anyone special,” she whispered.

We sat in silence for a while, the heaviness weighing on both of us differently.

Across the table, Tori flipped through her phone while Kinsley carefully placed another cinnamon roll on her plate.

Three weeks. That was how long we’d kept our relationship a secret.

Twenty-one days of stolen glances, whispered conversations, and pretending everything between us was exactly the same as when we’d left. At first, it hadn’t been difficult.

The artistic director of Pasha’s old dance company needed someone to step into an open position with almost no notice. He owed the man a favor, and the timing couldn’t have been more perfect.