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Squeezing my fingers, he led me from the kitchen and through the front room to the staircases. After taking us up, he guided me toward the last doorway on the right.
Pausing there to look back as if making sure I hadn’t changed my mind, he hesitated, then furrowed his brow briefly.
“Er… Do you mind if I go in first? Make sure it looks decent enough for company.”
“Why, Damien Archer,” I gasped, acting scandalized. “Are you the type to leave your old underwear lying in the middle of your bedroom floor?”
“Not usually,” he answered with a wince before adding, “but thiswouldbe the one time I did.”
I chuckled. “Alright, fine.” Waving him off, I teased, “Go hide all your nudey magazines.”
He’d barely opened the door and started to slide into his room, only to pause and glance back at me, finally hearing what I’d just said. He started to shake his head to deny he had any such paraphernalia before he sent me a mischievous smirk and disappeared into the room, closing the door behind him.
Right before it shut, however, I lifted onto my toes and called, “Just don’t spray on any more cologne. You already smell amazing enough exactly as you are. Anything else would be overkill.”
“Got it,” I heard his muffled answer.
Grinning, I dropped back onto my heels, then silently squealed as I danced in place, unable to quite believe this was actually happening.
A moment later, the door opened wide and a slightly breathless Damien leaned against it, gazing out at me.
We spent a few moments simply staring at each other until I asked, “Permission to come aboard?”
His lips spread into a slow smile. “Permission granted.”
“Score!” After pumping a fist in self-congratulations, I turned all proper and fake curtsied him before straightening with a grin. His eyes danced with amusement, so I made sure to trail my fingers up his arm and over his shoulder as I passed by when he stepped aside to let me enter.
He sucked in a breath and turned with me, watching from the doorway as I meandered around his room and inspected every shelf and picture on the wall. He wasn’t a neat freak—there was a messy pile of papers on his desk, unevenly stacked books on the shelf, and a shirt hanging from the doorknob that led into the bathroom—but he kept the place tidy enough to impress me.
I paused when I saw a framed picture of what looked like Thalia’s senior year of high school. Picking it up, I smiled and shook my head fondly. “She’s so freaking beautiful.”
Damien didn’t answer but I could feel his agreement somehow. When I glanced over, he confirmed it by nodding.
I started to set the frame back only to notice that there were two bare spots in the wood where dust hadn’t gathered on the shelf. I covered one when I replaced the picture of Thalia and couldn’t help but wonder what had been in the other picture Damien had obviously just hidden right before I entered the room.
I was proud of myself for not even mentioning it, though.
His posters on the wall were of Will Farrell, a Rorschach Inkblot Test, and a poster that had some Edgar Allan Poe quote about boundaries or something on it.
As I came to a framed poster of Audrey Hepburn in the enormousMy Fair Ladyhat, I paused and pointed. “Hey! I swear, Thalia was looking for this very poster the other day, saying it was missing from her stuff.”
Damien pulled back, clearly startled. But then he shook his head and answered, “Uh…yeah. That used to be hers. But after she…” He shrugged lightly. “Well, I took it after she was gone. To remember her by.”
“Hmm,” I said, moving on. “Maybe that’s why she won’t talk to you now.”
He huffed out an inaudible laugh. “Well, please make sure to let her know I’ll happily bring it back if she’d be willing to talk to me again.”
Snapping my fingers, I pointed at him. “That reminds me. She does have a message for you.”
Straightening from the doorway and completely alert, Damien uttered, “She does?”
“Yeah. Sorry, I forgot until just now. But we were hanging out earlier this evening, and I was trying to coax her into talking to you again, but she was being her dramatic self and saying, ‘Damien doesn’thearme…blah, blah, blah.’” I pressed the back of my hand to my brow to emphasize how much she’d exaggerated. “So I was like, look. I’ll make him listen tome. What do you want him to hear?”
Damien smiled in sad amusement. “And what did she say?”
I shrugged. “Not much really. Just that she loves you and she’s sorry for leaving you alone.”
His throat worked through a heavy swallow, and his eyes went tortured. But he nodded, letting me know he’d heard just fine.
