Chapter 181

Chapter 181
Katie

The morning sun streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows was warm against my bare legs as I perched on one of the bar stools at the kitchen island, watching Lucas move around the open-concept kitchen with the kind of easy confidence that shouldn't have been as attractive as it was. It was ten in the morning and we'd finally dragged ourselves out of bed, though "dragged" was generous considering Lucas had been awake and alert the entire time, like he'd been lying there waiting for me to stir so he could immediately start planning the day.

He'd insisted on making breakfast—or brunch, or whatever meal this counted as when you'd spent the entire night doing things that made my face heat up just thinking about them. I was wearing his shirt, a crisp white button-down that hung to mid-thigh on me, the sleeves rolled up past my elbows because they kept falling over my hands. He'd hidden all my clothes somewhere and refused to tell me where until I agreed to let him cook.

"You're staring," he said without looking up from the stove, where he was flipping what looked like a perfectly cooked American-style steak in a cast-iron skillet.

"I'm supervising," I shot back, pulling my phone toward me across the marble countertop.

He made a sound that might have been a laugh or a scoff. He was wearing low-slung gray sweatpants and nothing else, his hair still damp from the shower we'd taken together an hour ago, and the morning light caught on the tattoo over his heart—my initials, which I still couldn't quite process. The scars from the accident were visible along his ribs, faint white lines I'd traced with my fingers last night, and I found myself staring at the way his muscles shifted under his skin as he moved.

He caught me looking and smirked. "Supervising," he repeated, clearly not buying it.

I flipped him off and turned my attention back to my phone, pulling up Emily's most recent messages.

Emily: katie where are you?

Emily: also we're going into town later to check out the duty-free shops. you want to come?

I grimaced, glancing down at the marks covering my arms, my collarbone, the bruises on my thighs that were visible even under the shirt. There was no way I could go anywhere looking like this. People would think I'd been mauled by a wild animal, which honestly wasn't that far from the truth.

Me: can't go into town. long story. can you guys do me a favor and pick up some high-coverage concealer? like the kind that can cover tattoos. dermablend or kat von d if they have it

I hit send before I could overthink it, then added: Me: i'll pay you back

Emily's response came almost immediately.

Emily: ...katie what the hell happened

Emily: are you SURE you're okay

I bit back a laugh, imagining her face. Me: i'm fine. promise. just need the concealer

Emily: okay but we are TALKING about this later

Me: yeah yeah

I set the phone down just as Lucas slid a plate in front of me, loaded with perfectly cooked steak, scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, whole wheat toast, and a bowl of fresh fruit salad that looked like it had been arranged by a professional. The smell alone made my stomach growl.

"You made all this?" I asked, picking up my fork.

"I can cook," he said, sounding vaguely offended as he set his own plate down and pulled out the stool beside me, close enough that our knees bumped. "I'm not completely useless."

"I never said you were useless." I cut into the steak and it was so tender it practically fell apart. "This is just... a lot."

"You need to eat," he said simply, like that explained everything. He crossed to the espresso machine—one of those fancy ones that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe—and started grinding fresh beans. "You burned a lot of calories last night."

Heat flooded my face. "Lucas."

"What?" He glanced over his shoulder, all innocence except for the smirk tugging at his mouth. "I'm stating facts."

I stuffed a piece of steak in my mouth to avoid responding, and he laughed, that low warm sound that did things to my insides I wasn't ready to examine. He finished making two cups of espresso—pulling the shots himself with the kind of precision that suggested he'd done this a thousand times—and set one in front of me, the crema perfect and golden on top.

We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, just the clink of silverware against plates and the distant crash of waves outside. It was peaceful in a way that should have terrified me—this whole domestic morning-after thing—but somehow it didn't. Maybe I was too wrung out to be scared. Or maybe sitting here wearing his shirt and eating the breakfast he'd made just felt right in a way I'd stopped trying to fight.

My phone buzzed again.

Emily: ave and i are heading out now. what's the address?

I forwarded her the location Lucas had sent me yesterday, then hesitated before typing: Me: thanks. seriously

Emily: that's what friends are for. but katie if something is wrong you HAVE to tell me

Me: i will. promise

"Everything okay?" Lucas asked, watching me with that too-perceptive gaze of his.

"Yeah," I said, picking up my coffee. "Emily and Ave are going to pick up some stuff for me and bring it over later."

His expression shifted slightly. "What stuff?"

"Concealer," I said flatly. "The kind that can cover tattoos."

He followed my gaze down to the marks covering my arms, my neck, my collarbone. Understanding dawned and he had the audacity to look pleased with himself. "Oh."

"Oh," I repeated, giving him a look. "Lucas, I look like I got attacked."

"You did get attacked," he said reasonably, reaching over to trace one of the hickeys on my shoulder with his fingertip. "By me."

I swatted his hand away, fighting back a smile. "Emily's going to call the police."

"Then we'll tell her the truth." He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the mark he'd just touched. "That you wanted this just as much as I did."

My breath caught and I had to remind myself we were supposed to be eating breakfast, not starting round whatever-number-we-were-on. I pushed him back gently. "Eat your food."

He obeyed, but the smirk never left his face.

---

By two in the afternoon, I'd managed to shower, brush my teeth, and locate most of my clothes—which Lucas had hidden in various places around the villa like some kind of demented scavenger hunt. I was back in his shirt though, because all my actual shirts were either dirty or mysteriously missing, and I'd given up trying to find them.

Lucas had disappeared upstairs to change the sheets—which definitely needed changing after last night—leaving me to answer the door when the bell rang.

I pulled it open to find Emily and Ave standing there with shopping bags, their expressions shifting from friendly smiles to wide-eyed shock in about two seconds flat.

Emily's face went white. "Katie," she said slowly, her voice tight. "What... what happened to you?"

I followed her gaze down to my arms where several hickeys were still visible despite my attempts to position the sleeves strategically, then to my neck, which was probably the worst of it. Ave was staring too, her eyes huge, and Oh God this looked bad. This looked really bad.

"Oh," I said, feeling my face heat. "It's not—"

"Did he hurt you?" Emily interrupted, stepping forward like she was about to physically drag me out of here. "Katie, if Lucas did something—"

"No!" I said quickly, holding up my hands. "No, he didn't—I mean, he did, but not like that. I'm fine. I promise."

Ave made a strangled sound. "You're fine? Katie, you look like you got mauled!"

"I know how it looks," I said, trying to keep my voice calm even though I wanted to sink through the floor. "But I swear it's not what you think. Can you just—come inside? Please?"