Page 32 of Dark Room Junkie

Sexy?I had never associated that word with Livio. He had a certain attraction to me and was hotter than some of the others who had come and gone here. But sexy was someone like Noé, who moved like a panther and left me speechless with just a glance.

“There are only four of us tonight.”

Livio took my jacket and led me into the living room. Philippe was sitting there, preparing a few lines, and greeted me with a cheerful hello-o. Before he returned to the coke, he tucked a dark brown strand behind his ear and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. He had been here for a while.

“This is Michael,” Livio introduced me to the slender man sitting on the sofa, who politely greeted me.

It was never easy for me when there was a new face around. The phase where you tried to figure out how people ticked always gave me great trouble. I would have preferred to skip that altogether, but unfortunately, it was part of the game if I wanted to continue being here. And I did. I had found a place with Livio where I could freely indulge my urges and leave the past behind. But something about Michael seemed odd to me, so I sat down next to Philippe and left the empty seat next to Michael for Livio. That way, I could still observe him a bit, which the newcomer was doing as well. He even eyed me with apparent interest.

Michael was nearing fifty, which didn’t sit right with me. It wasn’t him specifically, but older men generally made me suspicious. I just tended to prefer younger ones. Philippe was almost two years younger than me to the day, and Livio was thirty-two; I was fine with that. But Michael already had gray hair starting to show, and he reminded me ...No!Suddenly, I saw it. The high cheekbones, the bushy brows, the build of a sprinter. He looked like my father.

Oh no, this is not good.

I could practically feel a storm brewing.

Not good at all.

In seconds, I tried to remember what I had learned in all those years of therapy, but my mind blanked out.

Just ignore him. Livio and Philippe are here, and you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.

“How was your week?” Livio asked as he sat down on the sofa covered with a white sheet, gesturing for me to help myself.

I poured myself a hefty glass of vodka and took a sip. “Good. And exhausting. How about you guys?”

“Had a fight with my boss,” Philippe said, leaning forward and preparing a line.

“You did what?” Livio asked, horrified.

Philippe rubbed his nose and stretched his neck from side to side. My gaze fell on his muscular biceps.

“Who won?” I asked, taking another sip.

Michael laughed.

“No, no, no,” Livio interjected. “You can’t ask him that.”

“I won,” Philippe declared solemnly, leaning back with legs spread wide and arms on the back of the sofa. I only needed to lean back, and he could have put his arm around me. “Broke his nose.”

“That was probably beneficial for your cooperation,” Michael said.

A shiver ran down my spine when I heard his distinctive voice. It sounded strong and energetic.

Just like his.

I felt a slight constriction in my chest, and my pulse quickened. But I didn’t want that, so I tried to see Michael as he was. After all, his smile wasn’t unsympathetic. And upon closer inspection, he didn’t look bad either. He wore his hair short, and his build reminded me a bit of Noé.

Philippe handed me the rolled-up note, and I knelt on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table.

“No,” Philippe said and began to massage my shoulder. “Wasn’t beneficial. He naturally kicked me out. Fired me on the spot. But I’ll find something else.”

“What do you do?” Michael asked.

“Carpenter. And you?”

“I’m a banker at a private bank. And you, Alex?”

“Photographer,” I replied shortly, leaning forward and snorting up the coke.

---