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He didn’t lean in, but I swear the space around us grew tighter. The deepening of his voice only made the intimacy increase. “Are you hoping I do?”
My stomach dropped, then continued to flutter where it landed at my feet.
“Why would I care?” I tried to be flippant.
His smile was proof I failed. “Be a good boy and maybe you’ll find out.”
Was he flirting?
Were my balls tingling because I liked it?
Hopefully, I was getting a rash.
It would be preferable. I could slap some cream on. Rub it all in. Call it a day. But being turned on—tingly—because of Arsen… I didn’t have cream for that.
A completely lewd and intrusive thought of him coming all over me and rubbing it in literally assaulted the inside of my brain.
No. That’s not cream.
It’s good-boy cream.
Oh my God, my brain was broken. Completely beyond repair. Maybe he was right. Maybe there was no fixing me. Maybe I would continue to get worse the older I got and all the fighting I’d been doing was for nothing and I’d end up exactly where I tried so hard not to go.
Snap!
The silver band around the base of Arsen’s thumb caught my attention when he snapped his fingers right in my face. I blinked, eyes latching on to that metal band even as his hand dropped to his side. His pointer finger also had a silver ring, but this one wasn’t a solid band. It was more of a thick chain.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked, drawing my attention away from his jewelry.
“Nothing.”
“Empty-headed is the last thing I would use to describe you,” he quipped.
I glanced at him, wanting to know exactly how he would describe me but afraid to ask.
Down the hallway, a door pushed open. “Lights out!” a man hollered, the door promptly crashing shut once more.
Our eyes collided, both wondering what that meant.
Click. All the lights in the room snapped off, the entire place plunging into darkness so opaque I couldn’t see anything, not even my hand when I held it in front of my face.
The shock of it was startling. I was so conditioned to being overloaded that having it all ripped away was equally devastating. For long seconds, I remained frozen as I tried to orient myself in a place with no anchor.
The dizzying sensation of floating upended me, and I didn’t know which direction to go. With my sight robbed, the scent of the room grew overpowering, the stale air stagnant and accompanied by the sharp odor of cleaning supplies. My lips rolled in on themselves, and as my teeth scraped their surface, I tasted the remnants of beer and sweat from the party.
I noticed then how cold it was in this concrete and metal room and how the tips of my fingers were already icy.
Loud groaning rumbled overhead, and I bowed at the knees, trying to get away from the sound. The moan was followed closely by loud rushing water.
Rationally, I knew it was the old exposed pipes I’d noticed running across the ceiling, but as I looked for them now, they were impossible to perceive through the impenetrable darkness. All that remained was the hideous noise.
“When he said lights out… did he mean they were leaving us like this all night?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even.
If Arsen replied, I didn’t hear because the groaning pipes and rushing water gave way to clicking, which gave way to an insistent drip.
Drip. Drip. Drip-drip. Drip.
Everything around me swayed. My eyes worked overtime to focus.
