Page 11 of A Taste Of Darkness

Her eyes rolled dramatically. “Of course you do. If I had even just a fraction of the money you make from Tartarus, I, too, would own the building I live in.”

I chuckled. The last time I caught myself chuckling had been ages ago.

“That’s why your neighbors don’t hate you,” she told me. “Tenants usually refrain from hating their landlord unless given a good reason. I think they’d rather be on their good side in case of a problem, you know?”

Sitting up, I looked at Sterlie. “If these people wanted a pool, they’d buy a place with a pool, Sterlie. Besides, there’s a communal pool for all tenants on the first floor. There’s also a spa and a gym for them. So, if they do hate me, it’s not because of my pool.”

She sighed ever so dramatically, then got up and grabbed a towel. “Soup!” she called out, and her dog immediately made her way away from the water. As Soup reached her, Sterlie knelt to her dog and dropped the towel onto her. “Let’s get you all dried up so we can go to bed, yes?”

6

SMALL, SLEEP STEPS

Milo Marucci

Her perfume filled the air in my bedroom, so prominent, there was no escaping even if I tried.

She wasn’t even in the room, as she got changed in my bathroom, yet her scent was everywhere. I wasn’t great at deciphering scents, but I could swear there was a hint of vanilla and lemon in her perfume.

It must’ve been new because the last time she was close enough to me that I could smell her perfume, it was more fruity.

While Sterlie was in my bathroom to change, I stripped off my suit pants and threw on a pair of grey sweatpants. Usually, I slept in my boxers and no shirt but with her around, I couldn’t possibly do that.

After changing my pants, I began to unbutton my dress shirt when I heard the bathroom door unlock, and Sterlie stepped out.

“Can I keep my clothes on the bathroom counter?” she asked with a sudden awkward note in her voice.

“You could, but if you keep them in the laundry room, you’ll wake up to freshly washed, warm clothes.”

“Warm?” She pressed her clothes tighter to her chest as her eyebrows rose with curiosity.

I nodded. “My housekeeper puts the clothes that I plan on wearing on the towel drying rack. It’s heated, so the clothes will be warm. And, well, I can leave her a note to put yours there.”

“You don’t have to do that.” A soft smile pulled on her lips. “I’m already a burden enough as is.”

“You’re not.” I continued unbuttoning my shirt, watching as Sterlie’s eyes widened and her cheeks turned pinkish before quickly turning away from me. “Just because you need a place to stay doesn’t mean you’re intruding, Sterlie. If I didn’t want you here, then trust me, you wouldn’t be here.”

I took off my shirt, folded it neatly, and set it down on one of the dressers in my bedroom.

These dressers were filled with clothes to sleep in only. Anything I’d wear daily could be found in my dressing room, clothes-wise anyway. I had an entire room dedicated to footwear and any sort of accessory I wore like ties, cufflinks, watches, et cetera.

As I walked over to my shirt-dedicated dresser, Sterlie asked, “Does your housekeeper pick your outfits?”

I laughed, grabbing any of the shirts because it didn’t matter if my outfit matched, and threw it on. It happened to have been a black compression shirt, which must’ve been misplaced because I didn’t usually keep them in my bedroom. I would’ve changed, but that seemed strange now that Sterlie was looking at me again.

“No. I pick them the night before so I have more time in the morning,” I replied.

“I could never.” Her eyes wandered down my torso but quickly snapped over to the door when her dog whined. “Oh! Do you have a blanket for Soup? I wouldn’t want her sleeping on the cold floor.”

“Does she usually sleep on the floor?” I asked, taking Sterlie’s clothes from her because I was sure if I didn’t, she’d sleep with them in her arms.

In that short moment, I allowed myself to glance at her, taking in how my clothes fit her. They were way too big, which I expected, but I didn’t think she’d ditch the shorts entirely. She had her long, slightly wavy hair hanging down the front of her body, though she tugged the front pieces of her blonde hair behind her ears. The beautiful makeup she wore before was now gone, exposing glowing skin with barely any imperfections.

God, Sterlie was so breathtaking with and without makeup. She looked perfect in her designer clothes, and yet the T-shirt of mine she wore looked just as good.

She could’ve worn anything and I would’ve loved it on her, I was sure.

How was I going to survive the whole night next to her?

---