Chapter 11 Devon
DEVON
Calling this tub a bath is an insult.
The shape of the sides hugs my body perfectly, allowing me to relax without slipping.
At least not more than I did when I entered the steaming water and my cold arm wobbled, sending a splash of water over the edge of the tub.
Thankfully, it’s not a lot, so I make a mental note to clean it up later.
Until then, I relax back and sink down into the hot water until it reaches my neck and I’m fully enclosed in a warm cocoon of water and bubbles with my cast arm resting out of the water on the side.
The rich really do live differently.
Every instinct inside my heart warns me of what a mistake it is to stay in his penthouse and how dangerous it is to be alone with a man.
But something about Kairo doesn’t feel… dangerous.
Given my track history, my feelings aren’t exactly trustworthy, but it’s the little things that stick in my mind about him and it’s infuriating.
I should hate him.
I do… no, I don’t. But I should.
Instead, I can’t stop thinking about him.
The way he grabbed the seatbelt to help me when the car lurched instead of my arm.
How he held the umbrella over me without crowding my space.
How he escorted me through the building lobby with motions and movements rather than touch.
He doesn’t draw attention to it, but it’s the most important thing I notice—that and how it makes me feel safe.
The longer we spend together, the less I feel I have to be on my guard about an unexpected hug or touch.
He exists in my bubble without breaching my boundary, and I’m not even sure if he knows he’s doing it.
As the heat from the water soothes deep into my chilled body and the aromatic lavender scent warms my lungs, my eyes droop and I sink into a pleasant darkness with only my thoughts for company.
His timing was exceptional.
In truth, I really had no idea how I was getting home, so it’s insane luck that he found me when he did.
I need to charge my phone and contact my friends, then tell my parents where I am just in case something happens.
I’ll leave out the part about Kairo, though.
Underneath the comfort of the bath chasing away the terrible chill of the storm, guilt stirs in my gut that I’m even here.
Sharing space with the enemy?
My parents definitely wouldn’t understand.
As I soak away every last frozen raindrop that pierced my skin, gentle classical music drifts through the air from somewhere in the penthouse and Kairo pops back into my thoughts.
Mostly his face and how he resembled an adorable puppy when shaking the water from his hair.
He’s so handsome for an asshole.
Eventually, the water cools to an uncomfortable temperature so I climb out of the magical tub where I’m greeted by heated tiles on the floor and a warmth in the air that rivals that of the water.
I wrap myself in a big white fluffy towel and give the lovely bathroom a final glance, then I head into the bedroom where my next concern is immediately answered before the thought even fully forms in my head.
On the bed, Kairo’s massive bed, covered in a soft lemon duvet and surrounded by enough pillows to make a nest, lies a neatly folded pile of clothes.
Next to the bundle is my phone taken from where I left it on the dresser and placed on a portable charger.
I tap the screen and it immediately comes to life.
Wow.
He thinks of everything, huh?
I can’t fight the small smile that creeps across my lips as several texts from my friends fill the screen.
Each one is drunker than the last as they desperately check up on where I am.
Sitting on Kairo’s bed, my heart skips a beat at how soft it is, then I spend the next two minutes texting them back to assure them I’m safe.
I also message my parents letting them know I’m staying with someone in the city and that I’m safe.
Mom replies instantly with a short, relieved text and a request for me to call her in the morning.
I promise to do so and wish her goodnight.
Staring around Kairo’s room, there’s not a lot to tell me much about the man.
Everything is neat and tidy.
A fitness magazine rests on his bedside table with a gaming one underneath.
The temptation to peek in his drawer is too much and given how he lied to me, I feel like I’m owed some dirt on him.
The drawer is filled with an unopened box of condoms, a black journal that I don’t dare read, and a couple of leaflets from a high-profile therapist.
Glimpsing them is like I’ve seen too much, so I close the drawer before guilt can get the better of me and turn to the clothes he left out.
They’re his clothes.
They’ll fit because even with my size, Kairo is much taller and bulkier than I am.
It might be the first time a man has given me clothes and I haven’t immediately balked at the thought of their not fitting or being stretched out once I’m finished.
Picking up the T-shirt, the softness is beyond anything I’ve felt before and unable to resist, I press it to my nose.
Breathing in, there’s a gentle scent of cotton and something floral, and then something else underneath.
Something faintly chocolatey that instantly reminds me of Kairo.
Is this what he smells like before he dresses for the day?
The soft scent that invades his clothes and his sheets before he dresses himself up and sprays?
My eyes close as I nuzzle into the fabric until I catch myself and pull back.
After drying myself with the towel, I dress in the T-shirt and joggers he left for me.
The T-shirt hangs off my frame, but it’s big enough that I feel hidden and safe.
The joggers have a waist tie for me to tighten, and I roll them up at my ankles so I can walk without tripping.
Then, after scooping my hair into a smaller hair towel that carries the slightly artificial scent of being brand-new, I head back downstairs.
Kairo’s changed clothes too and I hate how attractive he looks in just regular comfy clothes.
He’s in his kitchen, an open-plan area with tech I’d dream of having at the bakery if that’s the oven I think it is.
With marble countertops and purple cabinet doors, it’s the first splash of real color that feels like there’s life here.
Kairo stands near the oven, staring at his phone while a silver pan rests on the stovetop.
His tank top hugs his sculpted body like a second skin and as he shifts his weight from one leg to the other, the mouthwatering visible muscles on his arms and back shift like ripples in a pool.
Grey joggers hug low on his hips and his hair is now dry and extremely fluffy compared to earlier.
That rope necklace with the beads remains around his neck, and it rises as he glances up from his phone and smiles at me like he’s spent his entire life waiting for me.
“How was the bath?”
“It was amazing.” Reaching the counter, I lean against it and use the furniture to try and hide myself.
As relaxed as I am, seeing Kairo built like a Greek god ignites old body insecurities, and I’m thankful this T-shirt is big on me. “I wouldn’t even call it a bath.”
“What would you call it?”
I shrug one shoulder. “Dunno, but it’s way too luxurious to be called a bath.”
“Have you warmed up?”
I nod, then I pause and grimace. “Sort of? I’m warm and I can feel the air is warm but I’m still cold like… here.”
Pushing off the counter, I press one hand to my breastbone. “It’s like I’ve swallowed a lot of ice cream or something.”
He nods knowingly and sets his phone aside, placing it face down on the counter. “I have the perfect cure. Are you allergic to dairy?”
“No.”
“Perfect.” From a fridge that’s somehow taller than he is, Kairo removes a carton of milk and pours it slowly into the silver pan.
Once he’s satisfied, he rummages in a top cupboard for a bar of chocolate that he deftly cuts up into slivers.
I watch him with quiet awe, from how his fingers move over the chocolate to how he holds the knife and cuts with smoothness I wouldn’t expect.
“Do you cook often?”
“I wouldn’t classify this as cooking.” He chuckles softly, and the sound sends tingles right through me. “But I make a mean hot chocolate at this time of year.”
“Only this time of year?”
He smirks. “Yup. As soon as the New Year bells ring, I lose all sense of confectionery and have to wait until next November. It’s a shame, really.”
“That must be really hard for you,” I say, flooding my tone with faux sympathy.
“You have no idea. A cold January without this?” He looks up at me from under his long lashes. “It’s terrible.”
I can’t look away.
He holds my gaze with such gentility that all I want to do is stare deep into his eyes.
It’s like being back at the bar we originally met at but without the alcohol to dull my senses.
Back then, he was a dream, but here, I’m sober and he’s very much real.
Once the chocolate is chopped, he adds it to the warm milk and I rest my chin on my upturned palm while he stirs lazily. “
Why did you stop and help me?”
Kairo looks at me over his shoulder and his brows briefly knit together, giving me a glimpse of that adorable swirl.
“Why did I pick you up?”
I nod.
“Do I need a reason to help you?”
“Given that you’re in the process of destroying my livelihood, yeah.” He winces and guilt stabs through my gut. “Sorry. But it’s kind of true.”
“I know.” Kairo’s smile is small. “I don’t blame you. All I can say is I saw you there looking like a drenched rat and I couldn’t leave someone like that. Not you or a stranger. Although I wouldn’t have invited a stranger into my car.”
“Is your car going to be alright? And… Martin, was it?”
“Yes. I was just talking to him, actually. The storm and the puddles flooded the engine. My mechanic, George, is working on it just now, although I’m pretty sure the damage could be worse and they would still tell me something simple because mechanics are not in my wheelhouse.”
“Same. The extent of my mechanical knowledge is how not to get locked into a walk-in freezer.”
“An important life skill.” Kairo’s smile widens. “You’ll have to teach me.”
“Depends. My access to walk-in freezers might be limited in the future.”
“Hmm. Why were you out there by yourself?”