Page 46 of The Darkness is Calling

If I called after him, I would only draw attention to our conversation and to the others, and I would rather avoid that.

I climb the stairs slowly when my phone vibrates with a message from a number I do not know.

Unknown number: The password is Iwanttofuckyou69

I read it twice.

I blink.

Then I read it again, stopping at the top of the

stairs.

Something tells me the message was sent by someone from down there, and I expect, any second now, for one of them to come out laughing at me.

But nothing happens.

So I type back, my heart beating hard, but not from fear.

From... astonishment.

Me: Excuse me?!

A few seconds later, the answer comes.

Unknown number: The password for the streaming platforms installed on the TV.

Sasha chose it...

For a moment, I think I forget who I am talking to, because out of habit, I send a laughing emoji, since that is exactly what I am doing. I walk toward the room, laughing at the madness of such a man, but of course my smile half disappears when I stop in front of the bedroom where I have to sleep again tonight.

Fuck.

Here we go again.

An hour later, I am halfway through the second

episode of a show I watch whenever I have time, Bridgerton. Even though I have already seen it, I enjoy rewatching it. It relaxes me and helps me fall asleep faster.

When sleep begins to circle me, I turn off the TV, but I cannot help wondering when the true owner of this bed will appear.

Fortunately, my thoughts find their answer only a few minutes later, when the door opens and his steps carry him toward the dressing room, then the bathroom.

Now there is no way I can fall asleep, not while hearing the shower running and imagining, for the second day in a row, what his body looks like with streams of water sliding over his lean frame. Over his broad back and the chest covered in those tattoos. Down toward the abdomen that ends in a V leading to something that should not cross my mind, but I cannot stop the image.

With a man like that, there is no way not to think about him the moment you hear the shower wetting his naked body.

I am a woman. I have hormones and ovaries that react too, no matter how much my brain says it is forbidden.

And even if I changed my sex, I think I would still be the gayest man alive when it comes to this severe, dark, dangerous man, who is far too attractive for my mental health.

Or anyone’s, for that matter.

The water stops running, and my heart beats faster, anticipating the moment he will be beside me again.

I don’t understand why I am so nervous, because last night proved he is perfectly capable of staying on his side of the bed and not touching me. So far, he has been entirely honorable, and I cannot accuse him of anything. But the fact that he will be beside me, only a few inches away, still fills me with agitation, even if it is not as intense as yesterday.

I pay attention to his every move: when he comes out of the bathroom, when he returns from the dressing room, when he lies down in bed, keeping the same distance as last night. And after a few seconds, I hear his deep voice.