“Yeah. It took Michael a couple of weeks to track the stalker down—the guy was pretty good. But when he finally hacked into the guy’s computer, Michael got enough evidence to get him arrested. It turned out Jeremy wasn’t the only person he was stalking.”
“Wow,” I breathed. “I had no idea. Jeremy’s never said anything.”
Tony shrugged. “He doesn’t like talking about it. It took him a long time to feel safe again.”
I shuddered. “I can imagine. So I’m guessing Jeremy sang your praises wherever he could, which got you a lot of business.”
“Pretty much,” he acknowledged. “His family is big money in the City, and between that and his fame as a pianist, he knows a lot of wealthy people.”
“And that’s why you’re always the one to guard him when he needs it,” I said.
Tony smiled. “That, and he helped my baby sister get into Juilliard and later helped her launch her career as a composer.”
I had to smile. I wasn’t even surprised, considering the way he’d taken me under his wing. It was just the kind of man Jeremy was. “He’s a good man.”
“That he is.” He took the ice packs off his face and hand. “That’s good enough.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I spar with Marco. I’m used to a few bumps and bruises.”
Well, that explained a lot. No wonder he was so good at fighting. But as I examined his face more closely, I noticed the furrow between his brows and the lines of pain around his eyes. I had to work very hard not to roll my eyes. I held out my hand to him. “Let’s go to my bedroom and get comfortable.”
He smiled uncertainly as he took my hand. “Sure.”
I kissed his hand. “Let’s just lie down and cuddle. We’ll go from there.”
“Sounds good to me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
TONY
I was about to follow Greg to his bedroom when I remembered something. “I have to get my jacket.”
His brow furrowed in confusion. “Your jacket? Why?”
“I have to secure my gun. I can’t just leave it hanging up by your front door.” I made a quick detour to get my jacket and then followed Greg to his bedroom. He turned on the bedside lamps while I took my gun out of the inner pocket, checked the safety, and set it on the nightstand.
He took my jacket and hung it up in his closet, then came over and put his arms around my neck. “How are you doing? You looked tired.”
I was about to object, but I took a moment to check in with myself and realized I really was tired. And in pain. I smiled ruefully. “Yeah, I guess I am. I wasn’t expecting to get into a fistfight tonight.”
He gently cupped my face in his hands. “You’re always taking care of everyone else. Let me take care of you.”
My throat constricted. I was used to hearing that from my brothers. I’d never heard it from someone I was dating. “Okay,” I said huskily.
He kissed me tenderly, then pulled back the covers. “Get undressed and get comfortable. I’ll be right back.”
I did as he said, folding my clothes and setting them neatly on the chair that sat in the corner of the room. I heard him moving around his apartment, presumably locking up and turning off the lights. I got under the covers, an involuntary sigh leaving me as my body got comfortable. Yep, I was tired. Maybe my brothers were right. I wasn’t taking care of myself as I should. The fight hadn’t been that hard. But I’d also been slacking on my workouts. “Fine,” I muttered to myself. “I’ll get back to a regular workout schedule.”
Greg came back with a glass of water and a small pill bottle. “I brought you some ibuprofen. I figured it would help with the swelling.”
He put the glass on the nightstand and handed me the bottle. “Thanks,” I said, my voice a little hoarse. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had taken care of me without expecting something in return or casually dismissing my pain because I was a “tough guy.”
He leaned down to kiss me. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I can do something to help.”
I patted the other side of the bed. “Come join me.”
