Page 52 of Dirty Deadly & Mine
My house is too lonely now that the boys have left for university. It’s been nice having Asher here, even if his presence confuses me.
I absentmindedly climb the stairs, going into Jude’s bedroom.
I do this sort of thing sometimes. Go into their room and sit on their bed and… cry.
I miss them so much, but I need to let them spread their wings, so I try not to call them too much or be a helicopter mum, hoping that one day soon they will need me, or simply miss me, and come home for a hug.
Now, as I sit in Jude’s room, my eyes glass over, but no tears fall. Sometimes their absence feels like they are dead. Vanished from this world. But the pile of Ronan’s things in here now is a reminder that they were home earlier this week, moving their best mate in.
Getting up from Jude’s bed, I leave his room, closing the door behind me, coming face to face with the doorway to Ronan’s… Asher’s room.
The door is wide open, so I step in quietly, taking a peek.
It looks different. Mainly because where there were posters of naked women before, there are now pencil and charcoal sketches. I move through the room, examining the drawings.
They are remarkable. For such simple sketches, they hold so much power and emotion. The detail in each one tells the story.
A hand wrapped around a wrist.
A head buried between parted thighs.
A hand inserting a dildo…
Shit.
Holy shit.
These sketches are… of me.
And him.
Asher.
Our faces aren’t in them, but these are things we have done together. Recently.
Glancing around the room, I spot a sketchbook on the desk, and I move over to it, flipping it open with a single finger.
Oh my…
There’s a sketch of me. I’m asleep… and naked.
Oh wow, I look so beautiful in it. I don’t think I look like this when I glance in the mirror, but is this how he sees me?
Like a goddess?
The fact that I’m naked in it has me curious. Did he draw this from his imagination, or did he creep into my room?
My cheeks flush hot at the thought of him sneaking in without me knowing, his eyes raking over every inch of me on display while I sleep.
I quickly shut the sketchbook, my mind racing, trying to figure out how I feel about this. About him.
Panicked, I decide I need to get the hell out of my house before Asher returns. There’s only one thing that will happen if he shows up right now, and it’s going to involve a lot of naked skin.
Rushing back downstairs to my bedroom, I call Rose, a fellow vigilante, and we make plans to meet for a drink or ten. I change into a black skirt with a slit up the side, and a green lacesleeveless top before slipping on my black heels and rushing out to the taxi I called.
By the time Rose arrives at the Royal Hotel, I’m three drinks in.
“So what’s going on with you, my darling?” she asks after ordering herself a drink. Her French accent always takes me by surprise. She sounds so exotic.
