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“What happened?” I asked, nodding to his arm before looking back at him, my heart in my throat as I tried to stifle my fear. Last night’s dream flooded my thoughts.
He was silent for a moment and then glanced down at his arm. “Oh this?” He paused, and his eyes moved back to the road. “Barrett and the others thought it’d be fun to challenge a neighborhood dog to a race.”
I swallowed. It certainly didn’t sound out of the ordinary for them, and it most definitely sounded like something Barrett would find fun. They were beginning to sound more like masochists to me.
“So, a dog attacked you?” I cocked an eyebrow at him. It was almost unbelievable to me.
“Yeah, not very exciting, huh?” he chuckled.
“Did you get caught?”
“No, but Vincent won’t leave me alone for not being fast enough to get over the fence.”
“Oh my God, you guys are idiots.” I sighed, rolling my eyes, dropping my head back against the headrest. Damien barked out a laugh, knowing he couldn’t deny it.
I cocked my head to the side, smiling at him before joining in his laughter as he made jokes about Barrett. We never had the chance to hang out together like this, just the two of us. It had always been with the others.
For some reason it felt… right.
9
It wasn’t long after we left Stackhouse Park that we pulled into the driveway of an old Tudor-style house with a beautiful bay window in the front. I frowned. Was this his house? My gaze drifted across the front yard, decorated with enormous maple trees that shaded the elegant white front porch. The historic architecture was detailed in a way that modern homes could only wish to emulate, and I wondered just how old it was.
Damien got out and walked around to open my door before I had a chance to open it myself. “Come on, it’ll be much warmer by the fireplace.” He took my hand and lifted me out onto my feet. I found myself dazed; his hands were so gentle against mine.
“You still with me?”
I stumbled back into reality and looked up at him. “Yeah, sorry.” My inability to talk around him hadn’t lessened, and I feared it was only getting worse. “Your house is beautiful.”
“It’s been in my family for a long time.”
We continued up the stone steps carved into the hillside before climbing the stairs to the porch. He pulled out his keys, unlocking the door and led me in.
My eyes popped as I explored the beautiful emerald-green foyer. A large golden crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. One of many fireplaces stood to the side, and in front of the u-shaped staircase that led upstairs was a small table. This was not how I imagined Damien’s house would look. It was so beautifully decorated, definitely not your typical college bachelor pad.
Damien walked through the cased opening into the living room. He tossed some firewood into the fireplace and began lighting the kindling. “Here, Cas, come sit by the fire.”
I walked over, admiring the equally beautiful living room, the intricate details in the trim and molding, the detail carved into the mantle. I settled on the floor beside him in front of a large sectional couch and he took my hands, rubbing them. “Gods, you’re so cold, come on. I’m going to get you a towel and a change of clothes.”
My mind had already wandered off and I lingered on that affectionate touch as he stroked the back of my hands, not registering his words. Suddenly, he pulled me to my feet, the moment ending before I was ready.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed a painting on the wall as he led me to the stairs. There was a man and a woman sitting with each other. The man looked a lot like Damien; it must’ve been a great-grandfather or something. The woman caught my eye—dark hair and beautiful pale eyes that popped off her porcelain skin. There was something about her that was strikingly familiar, but I couldn’t linger on it as we slipped into the hall.
He led me up the stairs and to his room where he released my hand to head for his dresser. I watched him through the doorway, back turned to me as he rummaged through the drawers. He slid on a clean shirt and pulled out a pair of sweatpants before turning back to me.
“Here, you can wear these while I dry your clothes. I hope it’s not too big.” He handed the sweatpants to me and stepped out of the room.
“Thank you.”
He flashed me a smile and closed the door.
I stood there for a moment, holding his pants, feeling a little overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events. How did a date at Stackhouse end with me in Damien’s room? This was a place I would have never thought I’d be. Yet, here I stood.
My eyes explored the large bedroom. In the center stood a large, king-sized, four post bed, clad in a mess of deep gray sheets that sat unmade. A few other pieces of beautiful antique furniture decorated the room.
I smiled when I noticed the book I’d loaned him resting on his nightstand, a bookmark jutting out from the pages. My nerves got the best of me when the sight of it flooded my thoughts with the memory of his lips on mine. For a moment, I remembered the sensation of his lips, the hint of his taste... I blinked. What was I doing? I looked elsewhere to get my mind off it.
Directly opposite the foot of the bed stood a rather large glass display case. It was hand carved and looked hundreds of years old. Behind the curved glass were beautifully displayed daggers and swords of different lengths and styles.
