Page 36 of The Very Naughty List

At least in my tattered past, no onedied.

I finish unpacking quickly, and even though my eyelids are drooping and I’m starting to drag a little, I decide to hop in the shower quickly before bed. Standing under the hot water always helps relax me and usually makes me sleep better, so I grab my toiletry bag and slip out into the hall.

If I remember the layout of the house right, there are two bedrooms downstairs and three upstairs, along with two bathrooms on the second floor. One of the bathrooms is already occupied, and I can hear running water behind the closed door.

Clearly, I’m not the only one who likes a late night shower.

I pad farther down the hall, trying to keep my steps quiet without actually tiptoeing. Once I reach the second bathroom, I set my toiletries in the shower and get undressed, letting my mind wander as I step under the hot spray and breathe deeply.

It’s impossible to hold on to any tension here in this quiet bathroom, with nothing to focus on but the cascading water from the rainfall shower head and the smell of my wildflower and honeysuckle body wash.

A few humming breaths fall from my lips, and I don’t even notice the exact moment when I start singing. It just sort of happens, which isn’t unusual. I always like to sing in the shower since it’s the only place where I can sing easily without getting any stage fright.

I used to just sing unconsciously everywhere, without any fear at all. But after Dylan and all of his needling remarks about the sound of my voice, I started to freeze up under pressureanytime I had an audience listening to me. It doesn’t even matter if it’s one person or one hundred. I always choke.

That’s why singing in the shower still feels like my safe space, I guess. There’s no one in here but me and the sound of rushing water as my accompaniment.

I start to truly lose myself in it, running my hands through my wet hair as my voice gains more and more strength—but just as I’m rinsing the last of the shampoo from my hair, the lights in the bathroom flicker. Once. Twice.

Then they blink out entirely.

Shit.

13

HAILEY

I standunder the spray for a minute in the dark, hoping the power will come back on, but it doesn’t.

Dammit.

Had I thought through this better, I would have brought my pajamas into the bathroom with me. But I figured I would just wrap up in a towel and walk back to my room to change afterward. After all, the guys would likely all be in bed by the time I got out. I was planning on leaving the bathroom nice and tidy and bringing my toiletries back to my room with me too, but it’s impossible to see in the dark.

One thing that’sverydifferent about Montana versus Los Angeles is that the nights here are as black as the bottom of the ocean. There aren’t thousands of city lights to provide a near constant glow of illumination. In Chestnut Hill, there are only the moon and stars shining in the sky. Or when it’s overcast, as is the case tonight, nothing but pitch black darkness.

I fumble around in the bathroom as I turn off the water and step out of the shower, reaching for a towel without being able to see my hand in front of my face.

My hair is dripping wet, and I shiver as I wrap the towel around my body and hold it securely against my chest.

When I open the door, I grimace. For some reason, I was hoping there would be more light out here, but there isn’t. I’m not familiar enough with this house to be able to walk the hallway completely blind and feel confident I won’t run into anything, but I’ll have to try. I can hear muffled voices from downstairs, but I don’t want to call out to any of the guys.

I’d really rather not have to be rescued yetagaintonight. I can handle this on my own.

Hopefully I won’t run into that giant dog in the dark. As much as the guys say he’s harmless, I still don’t want to tempt fate by scaring Bruno and making him think I’m an intruder who needs to be taken down.

I walk as quickly and quietly as I can, trying to navigate the hallway by memory and reaching out to trail my hand along the wall so I won’t accidentally bump into it. I’m feeling pretty confident about my skills navigating a somewhat unfamiliar space in the dark—until I crash into a wall of solid muscle.

“Ahh!”

I yelp in surprise as my body collides with a taller, broader one. My balance is thrown off, and as I grab on to whoever it is, I lose my grip on my towel … leaving me pressed up against a very wet, verynakedbody.

“Oh shit! I’m sorry!” I blurt, reaching down to try to catch my towel before it hits the floor.

I don’t manage to grab it, but Idograb something.

Something thick and warm, with what feels like a line of metal piercings along the underside of it.

Something that pulses in my hand, hardening and becoming even thicker than before as I give it an unconscious little squeeze.

---