Just below his right collarbone is a heavy bruise, its edges fading to yellow. Without thinking, I reach up and run my fingertips over it, as if I can wipe it away. But it does no such thing. “What is this?” “A bruise.” Leave it to Rhys to give me nothing. “From what? What the hell kind of porn are you filming?” “I don’t do porn, Tabby.” Despite his harsh tone, he continues rubbing my hand gently. “I already told you that.” “You did. But I don’t believe you. Are you okay?”
