Page 99 of Hard Rock Deceit

I did find a laundry machine in the basement, a super high tech one with a dozen different, complicated looking options. It cleaned and dried all in one machine, no need to transfer wet clothes to the drier after the cleaning round. How convenient. I threw the sheets in along with a detergent pod and pressed a few buttons, hoping forthebest.

Next I took away all the dirty dishes. I'd been planning on washing them by hand until I saw a dishwasher. My family never had one growing up, and my apartment was way too cheap for such luxuries. The dishwasher had fewer options, so I felt more confidentusingit.

I intended to sweep the kitchen floor, until I looked into a broom closet and found a cute little circular robot, one of those automatic floor cleaners. I flipped the on switch and off it went, zipping around the house on its mission to hunt down dirt and dustbunnies.

I searched the linen closet for a set of fresh sheets. I thought that, perhaps, being a boy, August would have a single set and that was it. But no, he had several sets of bedclothes, pillows, and throw blankets, along with extra fluffy bath towels and facecloths. I hadn't had much time to explore, but from the amount of linen, I had to assume there were at least a handful of extra guest bedrooms andbathrooms.

If this was how rich people lived, signmeup.

The shower had stopped by the time I returned to August's master bedroom. It was a massive room with a king-sized bed, a sofa, and two matching armchairs in the corner, as well as having its own walk out balcony with a single wicker armchair and sidetable.

I opened up all the windows and patio doors to let some fresh air in and went about making the bed. I had just finished fluffing up the last pillow, placing it against the headboard, when the door to the en suite bathroomopened.

August stepped out looking better than I'd seen him in days. If I hadn't been by his side this whole time, I wouldn't have known he'd been bedridden for almost twoweeks.

His towel-dried hair was still slightly damp, turning it a darker blond than his usual platinum. Strands stuck to his cheeks and neck. A few spare droplets of water still clung to his bare chest. He wore a pair of low slung dark denim jeans molded to his legs and nothing else, exposing that delicious V shape between his hips. A light scattering of soft hair trailed from his navel and lower, until it was hidden by thejeans.

My pulse spiked at the sight, cheeksflushing.

August noticed andsmirked.

I chided myself. He'd just come through a terrible ordeal. The last thing he needed was me throwing myself at him. I had to give him time to properlyrecover.

But from the heated looked in August's gaze, I had no doubt his thoughts mirroredmyown.

His eyes left mine to glance around. Theywidened.

"Did youcleanup?"

"We let it get pretty bad," I said. "I didn't want you to live in apigsty."

He gave me a softsmile.

"Why are you so good to me?" heasked.

"Because youdeserveit."

He snorted, casting hiseyesdown.

"No, I don't. I was awful to you. You gave so much of yourself to me, and I threw it back inyourface."

It seemed now that he was better, it was time to havethistalk.

I sat on the edge of his bedgingerly.

"You did," I agreed calmly. "You really hurt myfeelings."

His eyes were mournful, filled withregret.

"I'm sorry. I never should have said the thingsIdid."

"You always know how I'm feeling, what I'm thinking. You used that against me, on purpose, just to hurt me. Just to pushmeaway."

"I was a fuckingidiot."

"And how's that any different fromusual?"

When he realized I was joking, he gave me a smallsmile.