He must have heard me because he stopped in the doorway. I could barely make out the silhouette of his bare, sculpted chest in the darkness. His voice was low. “You need anything?” “No, I’m good.” “Dudley’s out, huh?” “Yes.” My answers were short to match my odd temperament tonight. “Are you alright?” he asked. I didn’t answer. Rather than returning to the couch, Damien approached the bed and sat down at the edge. He placed his hand on my head and ran his fingers slowly through my hair. That simple gesture was my undoing.
