Exposed Exposed (Dom Nation #1) - E. Davies Page 0,29

pick me up in worse states, at later hours,” I told him.

Since he wasn’t moving, I did. I rolled away from him, ignoring the prickle of displeasure at this brief parting. It was late at night, and I’d been comfortable in bed—that was all it was. Human nature.

Once I was on my feet, I stepped into my trousers, breathing a sigh of relief. It wasn’t that I didn’t like my body or I didn’t trust Slate. I just didn’t want it on display.

I called a taxi and then pulled up the blinds so I could see by the streetlight. It was quiet and unsettlingly serene outside. Even though we hadn’t slept, it seemed like everything that had happened was yesterday. And, technically, I guess it was.

But more than that, it felt like we were in another world—a second, secret world nestled into our own, and one I cherished. It was just the two of us and the occasional hum of a car engine in the distance.

The night sky was dark and clear despite the rows of streetlights stretching into the suburbs. I shivered at the darkness outside, buttoning up my shirt quickly and tucking it into my pants.

“Are you cold?” Slate came up behind me, draping what was unmistakably his bathrobe over my shoulders. Soft and fuzzy, a deep blue, it stretched almost to my feet, and the sleeves dangled so low I didn’t dare put my arms through them.

Speaking of undignified. I didn’t need to look like I was the boy and Slate the Daddy whose shoes I was trying to fill.

But I was also cold, and I liked the smell of Slate wrapped around me. It was dizzying—or perhaps that was his hands on my shoulders, smoothing out the fabric unnecessarily.

I moaned softly and closed my eyes to enjoy the shoulder rub, but no sooner had I done so than Slate stopped.

“That’s the taxi, I think,” he whispered.

Damn. Why did late-night taxis have to be so efficient for once? I sighed and slid the bathrobe off my shoulders, turning Slate around to carefully nestle it around his shoulders. “There,” I murmured and offered a hand to him. “Let’s go.”

I led him downstairs, only stopping to make sure I had everything I’d come with.

Except it felt like I’d left something behind, a tiny piece of me still nestled up to him in bed. It felt surreal. Were we wandering around my dreams right now? Would I wake up and find him sound asleep, pressed into me?

But as we stepped out of the house, he pressed himself up against me in a quite different way, flinching at the sound of a car engine nearby.

Fuck. I woke up in a hurry at that, scanning the street. But, of course, Isaac wasn’t there.

“It’s all right,” I told Slate softly and put my hand on his back, steering him straight to the waiting taxi.

Slate let me push him into the back seat, and he scooted over to the middle again to make room for me. I gave the taxi driver my address, and we pulled away from the curb.

“No, it isn’t.” Slate picked up the conversation in a whisper. “I know it seems like I’m some poor abused guy.”

“You don’t have to explain,” I told him, and I tried to put an arm around his shoulders.

“I want to,” Slate told me, bristling with a soft ferocity.

My stomach lurched as I dropped my hand into my lap. I couldn’t tell who the anger was directed toward, and I didn’t want to risk that it was me for not letting him talk about it. So I bit my lower lip and nodded for him to continue.

At least it was coming out now, one way or another.

“He’s not like, an ex who beat me up unwillingly.” Slate cast a look toward the driver, and I put a hand on his knee to make him look at me again.

From that peculiar phrasing, I gathered that Isaac had beaten Slate willingly, but the coldness I sensed in him made me wonder. I had to try not to pry. I had to make peace with maybe never knowing.

“I’m not a helpless stray who needs rescuing,” Slate continued, still so soft I could barely hear him. His gaze darted around the back of the taxi. “I’m a grown man.”

Oof. I squeezed his knee, acknowledging his words. His need to be strong, or at least to appear strong. Nobody liked to feel like a victim. He was embarrassed about me helping