Page 91 of Promises in the Dark

“What are you doing here?”

Red blinked, looking genuinely surprised and I pulled back, the knife slipping from my grip like it was suddenly made of butter.

“I knocked,” she stammered out, her words tumbling out in a rush. “You didn’t answer.”

Sure enough, I could faintly recall the sound of someone rapping on the door earlier, but in my exhausted stupor, I must’ve fucking ignored it.

I sighed, the tension draining from my body like water from a punctured canteen. “Next time, try using your vocal cords instead of skulking around like a ninja.”

She offered a sheepish smile, the kind that could charm the devil himself. “Yeah, my bad. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“And also, wait for a fucking response,” I said, running a hand through my damp hair. “I could’ve killed you.”

She nodded, looking relieved as hell that she wasn’t about to become a statistic in a crime report. “Got it. Sorry, Rogue.”

I strode past her, tossing the penknife onto the nightstand with a casual flick of my wrist, trying to play it cool like I hadn’t just been ready to go full-on psycho mode.

Red stood there, looking all innocent and shit, like she didn’t just give me a heart attack five minutes ago.

I shoot her a sidelong glance, eyebrow raised in question. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

She chewed on her bottom lip, looking suddenly unsure of herself. “I just... needed to talk, I guess.”

I ignored the way her gaze lingered a little too long on my bare chest as I rummaged through my dresser for a clean pair of boxers.

“Go on, spit it out.”

She hesitated for a moment, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

“You got something to say, or are you just gonna sit there staring like a creep?”

She flushed, her cheeks turning a shade of red that clashed spectacularly with her pale skin in a way that was almost too funny. “Sorry,” she mumbled, her gaze dropping to the floor like she was suddenly fascinated by the pattern of the carpet. “It’s just... I didn’t expect you to be... you know, half naked.”

I snorted, the corners of my mouth quirking up in a smirk despite myself. “Well, sorry to disappoint,” I quipped over my shoulder, giving her a pointed look. “But last time I checked, I wasn’t running a fucking nudist colony.”

Red offered me a small smile, the corners of her lips quirking up in that way that always made my heart do stupid somersaults.

“Asshole,” she said, but there was no real heat behind the words, just a playful banter that felt oddly comfortable.

“Alright, spill it,” I said, turning away from her, reaching for the drawer where I kept my stash of underwear. “What’s so damn important that you couldn’t wait until morning to talk about?”

I untucked the towel wrapped around my waist, letting it drop to the floor in a heap, exposing my naked ass to the world.

Or, you know, just Red.

I heard her sharp intake of breath, so loud it might as well have been a gunshot, but I didn’t bother looking back. She’s seen it all before, anyway.

The silence dragged on, thick and tense, like a rubber band about to snap. And just when I thought she might actually burst a blood vessel from holding her breath for so long, Red finally piped up.

“I am still here, you know,” she said, like the sound of air being sucked through a straw.

I chuckled, shaking my head at how predictable she was. “Relax, sweetheart,” I said, my voice deceptively casual as I rummaged through the drawer. “You’ve seen one dick, you’ve seen them all.”

She cleared her throat, louder than necessary, making the silence that followed even more awkward. “I didn’t come here to see your penis,” she trailed off, waving her hand in my general direction like my nakedness was a minor inconvenience.

I grinned, pulling on a pair of boxers with all the grace of a seasoned stripper. “Sure, you didn’t,” I said, winking at her over my shoulder.

“You know, for a paranoid bastard, you’ve got a surprisingly nice ass,” she teasingly said, yet oddly sincere.

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