Page 108 of Lucky Shot
“He says he doesn’t have a problem with you,” Demi says. “You’re welcome to join me.”
“No offense, but I’m not in a hurry to be somewhere that’s going to make me uncomfortable. Sid’s house and getting the vibe from him I do? As much as I want to spend every fucking second with you that I can, I don’t think I want to do that particular activity.”
“I understand. Let’s table it for now. I’ll see if I can get anything else from him, and we can decide from there.”
I’ve kind of already made up my mind on this, but I nod and shrug. Whatever Sidney’s answer is, it won’t change the fact that he has a problem with me. Whether it’s legit or unfounded is irrelevant.
We get back to my house and find that it’s empty; Gabe and Roux must be out somewhere. If I had to take a guess, they’ve found an empty field and are going through some soccer drills. Roux looks a little livelier, even if exhausted, when he comes home now. And he smiles more.
“What do you want to do for the rest of the afternoon?” I ask.
Demi looks around the empty house, and then his eyes are on me. My heart jumps into my throat, leaving me breathless, as the way he looks at me brushes over my entire body.
“I want to dress you,” he says.
Now I think I’ve forgotten how to breathe entirely. “Y-you do?” I whisper.
He holds his hand out. The smile on his face makes my knees buckle and if for no other reason than I don’t want to land on my face, I place my hand in his.
“I really do. Will you let me?”
I swallow and nod. My heart races as he leads me down the hall and into my bedroom. I watch as he shuts the door and then locks it. We tend to keep the door locked while in here, since there are other people in the house and we don’t want any awkward moments. If his brother or Gabe come home and are looking for us, they won’t be suspicious of a locked door.
Not that they should. It should just be assumed that we’re indecent.
Even though we’ve been here for ten days, I haven’t opened the secret room within my closet. There are other people in the house that I don’t particularly want to be made aware of it. So it’s been shut and concealed by the clothes hanging in front of it.
I’ve caught Demi looking at that wall several times. Of course he knew where the room was hidden right away. I’ve sent him pictures of me laying in bed and you can see straight into it when the doors to both the closet and my hidden room are open. It wouldn’t take a genius to guess where it is.
But he’s never asked to see it. If I’m honest with myself, I think I’ve been too nervous to bring it up. It’s one thing to talk about it abstractly, when it’s not really an option to utilize together. And even though we often played the game where I dress on his command, it’s not the same thing as him doing it for me.
Too nervous to really initiate anything, I let Demi lead me into the room. He pushes the garments hiding the door to the side and then studies the wall for a minute. My tongue is too thick in my mouth to instruct him on how to open it.
“What do you think this room was used for before?” he asks as he runs his hand over the almost invisible seam in the wall.
I shake my head, laughing quietly. “I’ve asked myself that often and I can’t even begin to imagine. Part of me doesn’t want to know.”
Demi presses gently on the door, and I hear theclickof the latch letting go. It pops out enough for him to get a grip on the edge and swing it open.
It’s dark. Completely black, as there are no windows in the room. For a minute, it’s just an empty void. I almost wish everything would just disappear. That I don’t really have this obsession with dresses and lace.
He flicks on the light and my vision dances. Fuck, he’s really seeing this. Ohfuck, ohfuck, ohfuck.
I startle when his fingers touch my chin. It takes me a minute to focus on his eyes. They’re filled with concern. “What’s wrong, Pretty Boy?”
“I… I’ve never shown anyone this before,” I say, the words barely above a whisper.
“You’ve shown me.”
“Not in person,” I say.
His touch is so fucking gentle when he cups my cheek, my knees nearly buckle under me. “Noah, I love everything about you. I love that you play games and that you love adventure. I love the way you enjoy exercise and food. I love your laugh and how it transforms your entire face. I love that you have this adorable sense of humor that you rarely let anyone see until you create a bond with them; then you let them see your true personality. I love that you have this soft side, a pretty side that craves the finer things in life. And I love that you’ve shared this with me.”
No, I don’t have tears in my eyes. They didn’t increasingly make it more difficult for me to see him clearly. No, I didn’t notice that all the things he loves are qualities that no one has ever said they like about me. No, I didn’t love how not a single thing he said he loved is something that the world loves.
I swallow and blink. Those damn tears betray me, and one streaks down my face.
“Really?” I whisper.
