Rebel Heir (Rush Series Duet #1)(21)

She sighed. “Yeah. I’m sorry for doing that. I just sort of did it and didn’t think. I’m also sorry for ruining your plans for the night.”

“It’s fine. They weren’t important.”

A few minutes later, I heard her breaths change, and I thought she’d fallen asleep. Until I heard her groggy voice. “Rush?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not really sorry I ruined your plans for the night.”

I smiled. “I’m not sorry they got ruined either, Shakespeare. Now get some sleep.”





I woke to an empty bed.

Confused, I wasn’t entirely sure if I had imagined the entire night before. I had fallen asleep using Rush’s chest as a pillow, hadn’t I?

Lifting my head, it pounded as I padded to the bathroom. After a quick morning pee, I washed my hands and made the mistake of looking at myself in the mirror.

I grimaced seeing my reflection. My eye had shaded a lovely purplish black, and the top lid had swollen so much that it covered half my eye. I touched a pink lump near my cheekbone. “Ouch. Shit.”

Luckily, I didn’t have to work today, so I decided to get back into bed. A few minutes after I’d shut my eyes, I started to drift off again when I heard a noise. Looking up, I found Rush next to my bed, rustling inside of a bag.

“What are you doing?”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you so early. I’d planned on going to the store before I went home. But we both fell asleep last night.”

I lifted up onto one elbow. “What is all that?”

“Went to the drugstore to pick you up some supplies.”

“Supplies?”

“For your shiner.” He held up a bottle of Motrin and a bottle of Vitamin C before placing both on the nightstand next to my bed. “Motrin for the headache you probably have this morning. Vitamin C to strengthen the blood vessels and speed up the healing of a black eye.” Reaching in the bag he pulled out a plastic container of…are those pineapples?

“Pineapples have enzymes that reduce inflammation and accelerate healing,” he said.

“Really?”

“Yep.” He pulled the last item out of the plastic bag. It looked like a piece of blue terry cloth material with something stuffed inside. “Warm compresses on day two and three. This gets microwaved until it’s warm. Not hot.”

“Okay.” I laughed. “How do you know so much about this stuff?”

“Got into my share of fights growing up.”

“Oh.”

He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “Gotta get going. You’re off today, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Get some rest. I have to head into the City.”

“For what?”

“Some stupid board meeting for a company I own part of. My grandfather left me a shit load of shares with voting rights. I could do an absentee ballot, or not vote at all, but it upsets my dear old dad and brother when I attend. So, I make it my business to show up to every fucking one.”

I laughed. “I’d like to be a fly on that wall.”

“Take it easy today.” Rush tapped the tip of my nose with his pointer and turned to leave. He’d stayed the entire night, yet I still didn’t want him to go.

“Wait!” I pulled the covers back.

“Your board meeting is in Manhattan, right?”

“Yes.”

“Whereabouts?”

“My father’s office is on Madison Avenue.”

“Oh that’s funny. That’s where my literary agent is. Are you taking the train, or driving?”

“Driving. It’s a pain in the ass, but the meeting isn’t until one, so I’ll wait until after the morning rush hour passes.”

“Can I hitch a ride with you?”

His brows drew down. “To the City? You want to come to the board meeting?”

“No. My dad works there. I haven’t seen him in a while, so it would be fun to surprise him and take him out to lunch.”

Rush shrugged. “Sure. As long as you don’t touch my radio or bitch about my smoking.”

I leapt out of bed, forgetting all about my headache and achy eye. “What time should I be ready?”

“Ten. I’m going to run some errands before I go home and shower. I’ll swing by and get you before I hop on the road.”

“Okay!”





“Did you bring something to change into?” I glanced over my shoulder into the backseat of Rush’s car. There wasn’t a garment bag or any suit hanging.

“You don’t like what I’m wearing?”

If I was being honest, I loved what he had on. Ripped jeans, black, high-laced, military-style boots, a white T-shirt and a leather jacket. It was as if James Dean came back to life, only hotter and tatted. “I like the style. But it’s not exactly appropriate for a board meeting, is it?”

A mischievous smile spread across Rush’s face. “Nope. Not at all.”

“Will your father say something to you? Make a scene because of the way you’re dressed?”

“I’d respect him more if he did. He’s only ever judged me for who he thinks I am. Never bothered to get to know me.”