4

Lily’s heart slammed against her ribs. She swallowed hard, forcing her voice steady. “Yes… I’m in here.”

The doorknob rattled. Once. Twice. Thankfully it was locked.

“You okay?” Dax asked, concern creeping into his tone.

She glanced at Damien. He was already moving, grabbing tissues from the vanity, his jaw set like stone. He dabbed lightly at the blood still smeared faintly across her inner thighs and the sheets.

“I’m having a bit of lady troubles,” she called out, cheeks burning. “Nothing serious.”

There was a short bout of silence. Then Dax’s voice softened understandably. “Oh. Take your time.”

“Wait for me,” she said quickly. “I’ll be out in a moment.”

“Okay.”

Silence settled on the other side of the door.

Damien worked fast and quiet. He wiped her clean with gentle yet efficient strokes, then cleaned himself and the worst of the blood from the sheets as best as he could.

Neither of them spoke. Lily kept trying to catch his eyes, desperate to read whatever storm was still rolling behind them. He refused every attempt. His gaze stayed on his hands, on the fabric. Anywhere but her face.

When the worst of the evidence was gone, he finally leaned in close enough that only she could hear.

“I’m going to hide in the closet until you both leave.”

He didn’t make eye contact. Only spoke in a strained tight whisper.

She nodded, eyes still searching his face.

He finished straightening her dress and smoothed her hair with one last impersonal pass of his fingers, then gestured toward the door. Lily walked to it. Damien slipped into the closet and pulled the door partially shut.

She unlocked the bedroom door and stepped out.

Dax stood there, handsome and concerned, dark hair slightly mussed from the party downstairs. His eyes scanned her face.

“You okay?” he asked again.

“I’m fine now,” she said.

He smiled, relieved, and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. Then he took her hand and led her toward the stairs.

Lily followed, the ache between her legs still there, but now mixed with a cold anxious feeling in her chest. She felt low. Used. Ashamed. And somehow still hungry for the man currently hiding in a dark closet behind them.

—

Two days later the Gallagher house filled again with the familiar Sunday dinner chaos.

It was a standing tradition. One week the Ross family came to the Gallaghers. The next week it reversed. Damien and Lucien had been doing it for years, ever since they walked away from their corporate jobs and built their tech company together with Damien running the code and the products while Lucien run the numbers and the deals. Their families had grown up around each other, they were practically family.

Lily was alone in the upstairs hallway when Damien found her.

The air between them went tight the second their eyes met.

“Lily.” His voice was controlled. “About the other night.”

She froze.

“I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did,” he said, remorsefully. “When I saw the blood and realized what I had taken from you. I didn’t mean to make you feel like shit about it. But you should have told me. Your first time… it should have been special. With someone who takes you to dinner first. Who fucks you gently. Who treats your body like something worth revering in. Not like I did. Not like a greedy animal with zero self control.”

Lily’s throat worked. She looked at a point past his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” she said calmly. “That night was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened.”

Then she walked away before he could answer, her footsteps quick and light down the hall, leaving him standing there staring after her like she’d just spoken a language he didn’t understand.