Page 56 of Shadowed Obsession

She pokes her head through the doorway with a toothbrush in her mouth. “Where are you going?” she asks around a mouthful of toothpaste.

This is all so domestic and not at all what I expected the night to be.

“I need my overnight bag,” I inform her, pointing my thumb toward the door.

“Okay,” she offers her garbled response and ducks back into the bathroom to resume brushing her teeth.

Fresh air greets me as I walk back out of her house, and I hope I come to my senses soon, because once again my mind and body aren’t on the same team. It’s not like I wasn’t hugged enough growing up. Thankfully, I am surrounded by affection, but she triggered something that I’m not ready to part with just yet.

So, I open my trunk and sling the duffle bag over my shoulder to return to whatever the hell this is with Deirdre.She ripped the mask off tonight, and she’s not at all what I’d expected her to be.

Strolling through the house a second time is easier than the first. The air is still heavy, but the energy is lighter.

I enter her room to find her in a bonnet and lavender silk short set, setting out her outfit for tomorrow morning. Her generous curves and smooth brown skin are on display, and I avert my gaze when she catches me staring.

This is the most unprofessional thing I’ve ever done.

Awkwardly, I slip past her to head to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me so I can get ready for bed. I often get hot at night and opt out of a shirt, but I don’t think being both shirtless and maskless is a good idea in this situation, so I put on a white tee and some sweats. Thoughts run rampant through my head as I brush my teeth, so many questions I don’t have answers for.

When I step out of the bathroom, I witness her doing the nightly routine that I’ve familiarized with through a screen. She pulls the curtains closed, circles the bed to unmake it, and climbs in on the left side. Usually, she lies in the middle of the bed, but with company, she appears to prefer the left side.

Noted.

The silence makes me nervous. The entire night feels like I’ve stepped on a landmine. Accompanying her to bed, even innocently,willbe something I pay for.

Here I am doing it anyway, regardless of consequence.

I blurt, “I was thinking of a way to not scare you whenever I drop by. I’ll do acoquíwhistle whenever I’m around, so you’ll know it’s me.” Anything to offer her even a semblance of comfort.

“What’s acoquí?” she asks softly, tilting her head.

“It’s a frog that’s native to Puerto Rico. Their mating call is a whistle, and they sing at night. I love hearing thecoquífrogs whenever I visit.”

She watches intently as I whistle, giggling to herself after a failed attempt at it. I can’t help but smile at her, and it’s a good thing she can’t really see it.

She is absolutely beautiful and can’t whistle worth a damn.

“You can take off your mask. I won’t look at you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she suggests.

“And how do you suggest I avoid being seen?” I question, not fully trusting that she’ll manage to keep her eyes closed.

She holds up a finger and turns to sift through her bedside drawer.

“This,” she states, holding up a pink silk eye mask.

Thatisa good idea.

“Okay, but don’t expect anything kinky to happen with that blindfold. I know you haveuniqueinterests,” I tease, climbing in beside her.

She rolls her eyes playfully. “Says the peeping Tom.”

“Call me by another name again, and I will take the couch,” I threaten, but there’s no bite to it.

“Anyways,” she says, pulling the sleep mask over her eyes, turning opposite me. “Goodnight, Scar,” she says through a yawn.

“Goodnight, beautiful,” I whisper, yanking off my balaclava in the dark room.

Dios mio. It feels amazing to be out of that hot-ass mask. I glance over, fully expecting her to be stealing a glimpse, but she hasn’t moved. I tug the blanket over my legs and turn to face her back. Instinctively, my arm wraps around her waist, bringing her closer. Soft snores interrupt the silence, and I smile to myself as I drift off to sleep.

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