He paused for a moment as if unsure of whether he should tell me, but then he spoke. “There was this girl, almost two years ago, who Alex was with. She was great at first. Fun, adventurous, beautiful. She made a lot of ‘joking’ comments about our money, then started staying here more often, getting us to buy things for her because she was, in her words, ‘a broke college student.’ Which was fair. But then she started isolating Alex more and more from me, to the point where I would only see them in passing around the house. I’m not entirely sure of everything that happened between them, but I know it was bad. He has always been quiet and withdrawn since I’ve known him, but he let his guard down for her, and she screwed him over. Not to mention that she managed to take thousands of dollars from him before she left. He hasn’t quite been the same since. His mom was an awful person too, so he can be wary around women sometimes.”
Damien’s pain was palpable as he stood there with the water cascading down the curves of his muscular, tattooed body. I could see the hurt in his eyes, not only at her using them, but at what she had done to his best friend. How she had changed him. “I would never do that to either of you,” I whispered, taking a step closer to him and laying my hand on his bare chest. “I’m so sorry that happened.”
He covered my hand with his own and leaned down to kiss my forehead. “I know. And I’m sorry that it even crossed my mind in the first place. I know we’ve only known each other for a little over a week, but I trust you. Maybe that’s silly, but it’s true.”
“To be fair, you barely even know me yet. We’ve spent a total of three whole days together. I can’t blame you for being cautious.” Then, to lighten the mood, I added, “Plus, if you check in the middle console of Alex’s car, you’ll find the $20 I slipped in there after he refused to take it from me at the grocery store. So you probably don’t have to worry about me taking your money.”
Damien laughed and shook his head, looking at me with amusement. “You’re really something else.”
I stepped backward into the hot spray of water at my back, letting it warm me again after standing in the empty space in the middle of the shower. Damien took a bottle of shampoo from the shelf next to him, poured some into his palm, and stepped toward me, signaling for me to turn around. I did, and he lathered the shampoo through my hair, his strong fingers massaging my scalp as he worked it through. Goosebumps covered my arms even as the hot water cascaded down my body. I closed my eyes. I could fall asleep to this feeling . . .
“So, one more question,” I said, knowing that if I didn’t ask now, I’d probably forget again or lose courage.
“Yeah?”
“Well, not to make it weird, but . . . Have you and Alex, you know . . . Shared other girls before?”
Damien smiled. “No baby. Only you.”
“Why?”
“Why what? Why are we ‘sharing’ you?”
I nodded, nervous for some reason. It had already happened with all of us being willing participants, so I knew logically that I had no real reason to feel weird.
“We had talked about the possibility of it a long time ago—like, years ago—when we were drinking one night, but it was never something we actively sought out. We never really went for the same women, anyway. For quite awhile, we were working constantly with starting up the business and didn’t have time for anyone else, anyway. We never brought it up again after that night until—”
“Until you met me?”
“Exactly.” He smiled.
“So you guys don’t, like, mess around with each other?”
Damien snorted. “No. We’re like brothers. We’ve been in each other’s lives for a long time, and neither of us is into dudes. We are both, however, very into you. We can handle seeing each other’s dicks, at least in this context.”
I laughed. “Well, that’s good then. Thanks for enlightening me.”
I rested my head against his chest until he spun me back around, using his hands to help rinse the soap from my hair, then poured body wash into his hand and pulled me around so my back was facing him again. He made slow circles across my shoulders and back, spreading the soap and massaging my sore, tight muscles. I let out a small groan as his fingers worked through the knots along my shoulder blades. He slowly moved his hands across my waist and to my stomach, then my chest, as he took a step forward so my back was pressed against him. I inhaled the heady, woodsy scent of the soap as I leaned into him. His fingers worked softly over my breasts, but there was no sexual motive this time. He was simply cleaning me, comforting me, taking care of me.
Once I had rinsed off, I turned back to him and said, “My turn.”
He smiled as he handed me the bottle of body wash and said, “I’ll do my own shampoo, since I’m assuming you can’t reach that high.” I stuck my tongue out at him, but he was right. He was probably at least an entire foot taller than me.
I did what he had done for me, spreading the soap across his back and massaging. When I had finished his back, I took his elbow to signal him to turn toward me. I filled my palm with more soap and made small circles across his chest, tracing through the smattering of dark chest hair, along the tattoos over his arms and chest, marveling at the muscles rippling beneath his skin. My hand trailed along his abs and to the V of his hips. His body was like a sculpture, so strong and beautiful, and the water running down the indents of his muscles only added to that ethereal picture. I could stare at him forever and never get bored.
After staring at and touching him for what was likely far too long, yet still not long enough, he scooped me up in his arms and pulled me under the water with him, his lips crashing into my own. Not with lust, but something else. Something more passionate, more emotional. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back, full of emotions that I knew I shouldn’t be letting myself have.
THE BATHROOM WASfilled with thick tendrils of steam as Damien dried himself off then wrapped me in a towel as soon as I stepped out of the shower. He left the bathroom, telling me he would be right back, then returned a minute later with one of his T-shirts and a pair of my underwear he had taken from my overnight bag.
“My pajamas were in my backpack,” I said. “Did you not see them?”
“Oh, I did. I just figured you’d look cuter in one of my shirts,” he replied with a grin.
I couldn’t help but laugh as I held the shirt up to myself. Most of the dresses I owned were shorter than this. I finished drying off as he stepped into his bedroom and fiddled with the TV remote, trying to find something to put on.
“Any suggestions?” he yelled across the room.
“Something fun and happy!” I yelled back as I slipped my arms through the sleeves of the shirt he had given me. My life was stressful enough right now that I didn’t want to watch anything heavy or emotional. I stepped into his room, twirling and splaying my arms out to the sides, modeling the shirt for him as if it were a pretty new dress. The hem fell to just below my knees, and the sleeves went past my elbows.
He laughed and shook his head at me then clicked on an old Disney movie for us to watch. Beauty and the Beast, one of my favorites. I rummaged around in my backpack, which Damien had brought into the room, and found two hair ties, then sat on the edge of the bed as I separated my hair along the part into two side sections.
“Want me to do that?” Damien asked.
“You know how to braid?”
He gestured to his own thick, wavy hair that fell a few inches past his shoulders. “I taught myself once my hair got long. It’s annoying to leave it down all the time, especially if I’m trying to work on my car or do yard work.”
I shrugged and handed him the elastic bands, scooting up on the bed so my back was to him and so I was facing the TV. He sat up and gently combed his fingers through my hair, slipping the hair ties over his wrist. We were quiet as the beginning of the movie played, listening to the backstory of a selfish, unkind prince and the curse put upon him by an enchantress in disguise. Despite the fact that I had seen this movie dozens of times, I never got bored of it, and I hummed along with Belle’s opening song as it began.
Damien’s fingers were surprisingly nimble as he began the braid on the right side of my head. It felt like he was doing a French braid, which surprised me even more, and he was working slowly but carefully.
“Why did you come back?” His voice was soft behind me.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you ended up here by pure accident the first time. I figured you would leave as quickly as possible and that I’d never hear from you again. Which, at first, I was fine with. You were a random girl at the bar who needed help, and that was all. Obviously I thought you were beautiful, but I didn’t plan on trying anything. And then . . .” he trailed off, no doubt thinking of that first weekend we spent together.