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Eros pops into my room with the rest of my gear and looks at me questioningly, asking where to put it. I point to the closet, and he sets it all down inside my walk-in.
He turns back around and takes in my room. His hands skim over the drawn back purple velvet curtain that usually separates my workspace from my sleeping space, then he looks to me for an answer.
“I pull it closed so I can keep my work and sleep separate.” I toss my dirty clothes in my hamper.
Eros’s eyes light up when he notices the photographs on the wall. Drawn in, he studies the hundred photos I have plastered over every inch of my bedroom walls. Most of them are mine, with a couple of others for inspiration from my favorite photographers.
His hand hovers over each as if he can sense energy off them or something. “These are yours.” It isn’t a question. “They are beautiful.”
Eros stops at a particular one where I captured Carl walking in a meadow. The light filters in behind him, making him little more than a silhouette of his form. “This one has the most love in it.”
“You can sense that?” I ask and then blush, realizing how silly that sounds. He’s a love god, after all.
Eros smirks at my blush. “I can. When you accept your powers, you will be able to sense things like this too.”
“When do I get my powers?” I ask, but then quickly look away at his intense golden gaze.
I wonder if I haveacceptedhim yet and trust Eros. It feels as if I’m coming to terms with my new life, yet I know by coming home, that resolve faltered when I was confronted with loss again. I haven’t even faced Carl yet. Will he sense what is different in me? Will he care?
“When you are ready, I will give them to you,” Eros says as he crosses the room to stand right in front of me. He doesn’t seem to be aware of the concept of personal space… at least with me.
As I duck away again, I glance at the clock on my side table. Five o’clock. Carl will be home soon if he isn’t staying late,workingat the office. Yeah, right.
No, I think he will probably be here soon so he can clean up the evidence of his overnight visitor and return my photos in the common areas. He’s expecting me to be home around eight, but I blew up his timetable by being early.
Then I wonder if this is the first time Carl has done something like this. Am I making too big of a deal of it? Has he snuck someone in every time I go away for a couple of days?
I hear the front door open, and my body tenses. If it weren’t for Eros touching my shoulder, breaking the spell, I might have been frozen until Carl barged into my room.
“Dee?” Carl calls as soon as he’s inside the house. His voice sounds worried, and I’m pleased he still cares enough not to want me upset.
I place a palm on Eros’s chest to indicate for him to stay in my room while I deal with Carl. I don’t want him interrupting my confrontation and mucking up the situation with another presence.
Exiting my room, I shut the door behind me and look into Carl’s wide eyes. He’s nervous about my reaction. I don’t lose my cool very often, but when I do, he knows it’s a firestorm.
With everything I went through by almost dying this weekend and discovering divinity, I find I don’t have it in me to fight with him.
“Yes?” I ask casually.
“Uh…” Carl is perplexed. He knows I must have seen the displaced photos in my room. Now, he is probably trying to figure out what I’ve deduced.
I think about helping him out and saying what I know, but why should I let him off the hook? He enforced the rules of no visitors all these years. It’s his burden to explain why the rule has changed for him.
I tilt my head and study his flustered appearance. He still looks handsome. Damn him.
“I…” He begins and then stops. “I… I’m sure you saw the photos on your desk.”
“I did,” I answer succinctly.
“I can explain.”
“Okay.” I peer at him, appearing to wait patiently.
“I had someone over.” Carl drops his gaze, unable to look me in the eye. Instead, he heads to the kitchen and grabs a bottle of wine. He places two glasses on the counter and pours a generous serving in both.
I have been quiet, allowing him to justify his actions without any snippy comments. One, because I know he’s more rattled when I don’t say anything. Two, I have to know how much this woman means to him. Is she a fling like all the others? Or is this the start of something, and I need to jump ship now?
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” he asks and chugs some wine.
