Chapter 8: The Cold Light of Day
757 Words
I didn’t sleep. Not really. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the ghost of Tom’s hands on my skin and the rough pressure of his mouth against mine. Every time I drifted, I felt the phantom weight of his body pinning me down, making me feel both trapped and entirely alive.
When the sun finally began to bleed through the blinds, casting long, accusing fingers of light across the guest room, I moved. I didn't look at the sleeping giant beside me. I grabbed my robe from the foot of the bed and practically scrambled out of the room, my face burning with a shame that felt like a physical weight.
What was I thinking? I was the landlord. He was the tenant "between jobs." I was supposed to be the one with boundaries, the one in control. Instead, I’d practically begged him to ruin me.
I was standing in the kitchen, staring blankly at the coffee maker, when I heard his door open. I squeezed my eyes shut, my heart climbing into my throat.
I heard his footsteps….heavy, deliberate, and entirely too confident for a man who had almost crossed a line he couldn't uncross. He stopped right behind me. I could smell him. That sandalwood and rain scent that now felt like a brand. I kept my back to him, gripping the edge of the counter until my knuckles turned white.
"The plumber will be here at nine," he said. His voice was back to being blunt and cold, as if the fire from last night had been a fever dream.
"Fine," I croaked, still not turning around. "I’ll be at work by then."
"Natasha."
The way he said my name made me flinch. It was the first time he ever called me by my first name. I finally turned, wrapping my robe tighter around my body. He was dressed in a clean black T-shirt, looking completely unshakable. His hair was messy, but his eyes were sharp. I, on the other hand, felt like a raw nerve exposed to the air.
"About last night…." I started, my voice pitching higher with every word. "I was stressed. The flood, the bed... it was a lot of adrenaline."
"Nothing happened," he interrupted. His eyes narrowed, tracking the pulse jumping in my neck. "It was a mistake brought on by a leak and a lack of sleep. Don't make it more than it was."
The bluntness felt like a slap. My embarrassment sharpened into a cold, hard knot of anger. He was dismissed it so easily, while I felt like my entire world-view had been tilted on its axis.
"Trust me, Tom," I snapped, my chin tilting up as I reclaimed my armor. "I have no intention of making it anything at all. I was just making sure you were... comfortable. I'd hate for you to leave a bad review."
His jaw tightened, a flash of that dark intensity returning to his eyes for a split second. He stepped closer, crowding me against the counter again, but this time it wasn't a caress. It was an assertion of space.
"I don't leave reviews, Steele," he rasped, leaning down so his face was level with mine. "And don't lie to yourself. You weren't trying to make me comfortable. You were trying to see if I’d break."
I opened my mouth to argue, but he was already moving past me to grab a mug. His shoulder intentionally brushed mine…..a hard, solid jolt of contact that reminded me exactly how strong he was.
"Go to work," he said, not looking back. "I'll handle the plumber. And Steele? Lock your door tonight. For both our sakes."
I walked out of the kitchen without another word, my heart thundering. He was a prick. An arrogant, dominant mystery of a man. I hated that he could read me so easily, and I hated even more that he was right.
I headed to the door, grabbing my bag. As I reached for the handle, I noticed his leather duffel bag was slightly open on the sofa. A high-end, encrypted burner phone was peeking out from the side. It looked expensive, sleek, and definitely not the kind of tech a man "between jobs" usually carried.
I stared at it for a second, a flicker of suspicion crossing my mind. Who was he really hiding from?
I shook the thought away. I didn't care who he was. I just needed to survive the next few months without letting him into my bed, or my head….again.
- Writer
