made it about ten feet down the hall from Gus’s room before I had to stop and lean against the wall, letting heat rush over me. The tick of the grandfather clock at the other end of the hall provided a beat to my litany of shame. Otherwise, the house was silent.
The way Gus had looked at me just then—Christ, I didn’t want to see that.
I knew I was a shitty person. I knew I didn’t deserve the trust that he was extending to me for no reason. Knew that no matter how much I tried, I’d never be able to undo the past.
But still, since coming here, I’d done my best to not hurt more people. And the fear in Gus’s eyes. That terror. It just made it so clear how little I was succeeding.
It wasn’t the same as with Aggie. I knew that. The look she’d given me, right before the end, had been full of disbelief and the pain of betrayal. Gus’s eyes were just full of fear.
But there was a core of mistrust that flooded my body with guilt. That part was the same.
I made myself breathe in. Breathe out. Count to ten. It was going to be okay.
Yes, I’d scared Gus by touching his neck. I’d tried to be gentle as I cleaned his cuts, but he’d been completely frozen anytime my hands were on him. He’d probably been petrified.
But he couldn’t know how I’d felt when I touched him, right?
There was no way he could see the way my body thrummed with desire as my fingers skated across his skin. No way he could know this was the closest I’d been to a man I was attracted to since leaving Hollywood. No way he could know the want that coursed through my veins just being in the same room as him.
He couldn’t.
But still, he probably hadn’t enjoyed me touching him very much. And when my hands had moved down to his neck—well, I got the message. I would back off.
He was probably straight, anyway. And even if he wasn’t, it wasn’t fair for me to let my desire get the better of me. Especially not when Gus was so confused and hurt, and I had all the power here. Hell, I didn’t even know how old he was.
I heard noises from his room—the sound of someone shuffling across the floor—and made myself walk away. Best to keep that temptation as far removed from me as possible. Besides, if Gus were going to be staying here for a few days—Jesus, why had I agreed to that?—there were some things I needed to take care of.
The first thing I needed to do was give Arnold the day off. The week, actually. Between Gus being freaked out about leaving the house and my vague concerns that I’d agreed to shelter someone who ought to be in witness protection, it seemed like a good idea to limit the number of people who knew Gus was here to an absolute minimum.
It wasn’t until Arnold had left, however, that I realized I had no idea what Gus liked to eat. Or if he even could eat, with his throat damaged like that. Telling myself I wasn’t just making excuses to see him again, I decided to go back up and ask him if he was hungry.
But when I peered into the bedroom—the door still propped open, this time—Gus was lying on the mattress, curled up on his right side, on top of the blanket. He was so gorgeous it made my heart ache.
And, okay, maybe my dick too. I couldn’t help it. His sharp, delicate features softened ever so slightly in sleep, and his lips were parted just a touch as he breathed in and out. Frog lay curled up next to him like he’d known Gus for years.
I still worried about not calling a doctor, but as I watched Gus’s hand flex and curl in sleep, I realized there were still some things I could try to do to help. Ignoring my studio and the work waiting for me at the other end of the house, I turned and made my way to Edgecliffe’s library instead.
In truth, library was a generous description of the room. That word implied a kind of order, and neatness, that was totally lacking from the cavernous space. The only thing the room had in common with an actual library was that both were full of books.
And when I say full, I mean it.
My grandfather