London Rising (Wild Hearts Book 1)

Chapter Twelve*

Music in this chapter: Please Mr. Jailer by Wynona Carr

@risingstarofficial

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CHAPTER TWELVE

"So, where are we?" I ask Damon and he laughs, gently squeezing the hand he's been playing with.

"You waited until after we've had sex to ask that?" I shrug, fighting back a smile.

"I trust you. I figured wherever we were was safe and that's all I really care about." He opens his mouth, closes it and looks at me with that peculiar look, then shakes his head and presses a kiss to my fingers.

"We're at one of my secret apartments. You fell asleep with Ava in your conference room and woke up long enough to get in my car and walk in here. I barely had you undressed before you crawled into bed and fell asleep again. I didn't think you'd want to deal with the cameras and people." It's my turn to press a kiss to his skin.

"Secret apartments? As in multiple?"

"Yeah, I have three here in L.A., two in New York, and one in Paris." I laugh, startled.

"Why do you have six secret apartments?"

"I've been in the spotlight since I was ten. Sometimes it's nice to get away from the constant presence of reporters and paps. So in addition to my public residences, I have secret apartments that very few people know about." I don't acknowledge the fact that he's trusting me with this information aloud, but the notion sends warmth through my chest and I fight back a smile, turning onto my side and running a hand through his hair, enjoying the messy bedhead look on him.

"We have to go back eventually, but right now we're not in a rush. We've got interviews later today and we'll have to film the results show in a few hours., but for now, it's just us." This is good news because being here in Damon's arms feels like home and I'm wary of getting up and breaking the spell.

As if the world knows what I'm thinking there's a knock on a nearby door, presumably the front door. I turn my head and stretch.

"Are you expecting company?" I ask and Damon grins, gently disentangling us as he sits up and moves to get out of bed.

"I got you a present. Stay here, I'll be right back." I watch from my position on the bed as Damon pulls on a pair of black boxer briefs,and walks out to answer the door.

After a minute, I decide to go in search of a bathroom. I go to the same drawer Damon was just rifling in and snag a pair of underwear and then grab the band tee he'd changed me into last night off the floor. Once dressed, I open the bedroom door and walk down the hall, noting to myself that the apartment we are in is normal. Clean, simple, with a regular, everyday layout. No high ceilings or thousand dollar paintings. Not what I expected from a world famous rock star, but exactly what I'd expect from Damon.

The bathroom is the only other door in the short hallway, so I go in to do my business. As I wash my hands, I look at myself in the mirror, expecting to look deranged from all the crying, but I opted out of wearing makeup for my performance. Any swelling or redness that would've been there from all the crying has long since faded. I actually look like I'm glowing. Happiness radiates from my skin and for a moment I feel guilty about how good I feel when my mother is going through something awful.

"You're allowed to be happy," I tell myself before turning off the light and exiting the bathroom. Figuring enough time has passed that it's okay to go in search of Damon, I walk in the other direction down the hall and round the corner. Too late I hear the sound of two people talking and see Damon and another man standing at the kitchen island.