Calla blinked a few times, trying to adjust her eyes to the dark. At first, she saw nothing clearly. Then she noticed a figure standing a short distance from the bed, still and silent.
“Rico?” she called softly, her voice rough from sleep. He didn’t answer.
She could feel his eyes on her, heavy and intense, like heat pressing down on her skin. It made her chest tighten. Whatever mood he’d gone out with earlier, he’d brought it back with him.
Her hand moved fast, reaching for the lamp beside the bed, and she flicked it on.
The sudden light made her squint, her eyes burning a little as she lifted her arm to shield them. Her heart gave a sharp jump when his face came fully into view.
Rico stood there, tall and rigid, his jaw set hard, his eyes dark and unreadable. He looked like a storm
