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Trine
Ithink he’s going to say something else—anything else.
He doesn’t. His hand is on my arm instead, his fingers curled around my bicep, and I can feel the warmth of his skin on mine. "I am sorry," he says, his words slow, measured. "I should have been totally upfront with you."
"It’s okay," I say. It really is okay. This doesn’t seem to matter that much anymore, and he’s so close to me that I can smell his pine aftershave and something that smells a bit like a bonfire, and I want to wrap my arms around his neck and bury myself in the corded muscles of his pecs, his strong arms wrapped around my midriff.
I can’t do that. I don’t know him that well. And that’s not what I’m here for, anyway; I’m here because Misha wanted my help, and I intend to help them. I might not know Tom that well, but he’s always been nice to me. I don’t want him to go through a fraction of what I went through, not if I can help it.
"Do you want to go back to one of our rooms?" he asks.
I cock my head, and I can tell he’s holding back a smile. The sparkle in his eyes makes me blush, the blood rushing to my head as I chew on my lower lip. He’s so gorgeous, the glint of sunlight rushing in from the street outside catching in his glasses, light dispersing over his face like a halo.
"Not for that," he says, since he can obviously read my mind. "Though I don’t think Luke is available."
Luke. The priest.
I hold back laughter. "You’re not funny, doctor."
"I am, though," he says.
There’s a moment when it doesn’t seem like he knows exactly what he’s supposed to do and then he extends his hand toward me. I hesitate for only a moment, but he’s right there, and I have no reason not to believe his apology.
So I take his hand.
His fingers are long and slim around mine, his skin soft to the touch. He doesn’t move at first, letting me get used to the way his fingers feel wrapped around mine, a smile playing on his lips. He waits for me to make a move; to tell him that this is okay.
Can you fall in love with someone after knowing them for a weekend? What if they were also one of your exorcists? Does that change things at all?
I have no idea, and it’s not like I can ask him, so I walk and drag him along with me until we’re in front of the other two exorcists.
"Let’s go," Misha says when we approach them, and Luke jumps out of his stool wordlessly, flashing me a huge smile when he does.
I can feel my cheeks grow hotter. He seems to know what’s going on in my head from the way he’s looking at me, the way his gaze is darting between Misha and Rei.
Rei puts his hand on the small of my back as we walk toward the elevator, none of them saying much. I can feel people watching us, but I keep my head down; I don’t want to call attention to myself, but it’s almost impossible with these men around me.
People notice them.
The elevator arrives in the lobby, and Rei ushers me into it. For a nice hotel, it’s surprisingly small. Rei is on my right, Misha is on my left, and Father Luke stands right behind me. In the reflection of the closed doors, I can see his smirk as he looks deep into my eyes.
I hold his gaze. If he wants to make this a game, I’m going to play.
Rei seems to notice because he chuckles under his breath. Then the elevator doors open, and Rei gestures for me to get out. We continue walking wordlessly toward whatever door we’re going to, and we stop suddenly halfway through, in front of one of many unremarkable white doors.
Luke takes out his key card and swipes it, pushing the door open. It’s a room with a kitchenette and a tiny sitting room, a queen bed close to the window. The room smells like sage and apples, an oil burner flickering on the nightstand.
"Sit anywhere," Luke says.
Misha and Rei don’t think about it; they’re clearly familiar with each other, and they can sit wherever they want. I have to think about the situation a little more than they do, finally settling on the sofa closest to the door.
They all turn to look at me, none of them saying anything. Like they’re waiting for me to speak, like I even know why I’m here in the first place. I don’t. Suddenly, it strikes me that this might be a bad idea.
I don’t know these men. Not really.
All I know about them is that they tied me up, bound me in place, and then…then I slept with one of them. And he was really, really good. But that shouldn’t matter right now.
"So," I say, after it seems like forever has passed. "What do you need?"
