Page 9

Calisto

“Fucking hell!” Baxter said, elbows braced beneath him while he tested the bed. “What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know.” No lie there. My head was spinning. Tempting as it had been to hang around and see what Cade had to say about tonight’s events, the opportunity for some alone time had appealed more. Well, as alone as I could ever be with Baxter around. No doubt Asher would catch me up on anything I needed to know in the morning.

“He lurrrrves you,” Baxter drawled.

“He never said that.”

“No?” Baxter smirked. “I’d say that introducing himself as your fated mate is the same thing. Maybe even one step further. He may as well have gotten down on one knee and proposed marriage.”

“There’s no need to exaggerate.”

Baxter sat up and threw his arms wide. “Who’s exaggerating?” I paced a few steps, noting the luxuriant pile of the cream carpet—who had a cream carpet?—before returning to where I started, the movement helping me to think. Baxter watched me for a few moments and then tipped his head to one side. “What are you going to do about it?”

“What would you do?”

Baxter’s face screwed up in thought. “Bed him. See what he’s like between the sheets.”

I rounded on him. “I was being serious.”

“So was I. Have you seen him? He’s fucking gorgeous. You should at least try him out. You heard him. Poor guy has been waiting for years for you. You’ve been in his dreams.”

“Visions,” I corrected. “Not dreams.”

Baxter’s one shoulder shrug said he saw little distinction between the two things.

“He came out of the wall,” I said with a disbelieving shake of my head at the memory. “He knew exactly where I was going to be and he took steps to make sure he could get to me. That’s crazy.”

“That’s lurrrrrve.”

Tired of pacing, I went into the bathroom, stopping dead at the sight that met me when I switched on the light. “Come and look at this.”

Baxter appeared at my shoulder a few moments later to stare at the same array of toiletries I was. “Fascinating.”

I picked up the deodorant and held it up so Baxter could see the label. “The exact brand I use.”

“Lucky guess,” he said.

I did the same with the toothpaste. “And this.” Putting it down, I picked up the aftershave. “And this. Do I need to go on? I don’t think he had visions about what brand of toothpaste I use. Do you?”

“He probably went through your bins.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Who’s joking?” Baxter went back into the other room and I followed, glad to get away from the pile of toiletries so perfectly tailored to me they had a feeling of suffocation settling in my chest. Baxter jerked his head toward the door. “Did he lock you in?”

“What?”

“There were a lot of toiletries.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Just thinking that perhaps your stalker is planning on keeping you here forever.”

“He’s not my stalker.”

“Only a stalker goes through people’s bins.”

“We have zero proof that he’s been going through anyone’s bins.”

Baxter raised an eyebrow. “Why haven’t you tried the door, then?”

“I haven’t tried the door because it’s stupid. Of course, he hasn’t locked me in.”

“Try it for my sake.”

“Try it yourself.”

Baxter held his hands up and waggled his fingers in a reminder of what I already knew, that he couldn’t interact with objects on this plane. I just forgot sometimes. Usually when Baxter was baiting me, as he was doing now.

A lump settled in my throat as I eyed the door. Because what if Asher had locked me in? What if I tried it and Baxter was right? What if Asher wasn’t a hero, after all, and rescue came with ramifications I hadn’t considered? I strode over to it, my heart racing as I took hold of the handle and twisted. The door swung open to reveal an empty corridor, Asher presumably having either gone back downstairs or retired to his own room.

I turned to Baxter with a look of triumph on my face. “There. See.”

Baxter kept a straight face for all of two seconds before he doubled over with laughter. “Your face. You should see yourself.”

“Yeah, right?” I had no capacity left in me after the night I’d had to see the funny side. I left Baxter to his hysteria and locked myself in the bathroom. A locked door wouldn’t keep Baxter out, but the click of the lock, assuming he’d heard it, at least made my feelings clear on where I wanted him to be.

I took a shower on the edge of being too hot, the sting helping me to think. So O’Reilly wanted me. And Asher wanted me too, but in a different way. I was quite the man of the moment. And to think that the day had bordered on mundane until the night shift had started. Trying to get my head on straight took a long time, and all I’d really come up with by the time I eventually stepped out was that things would hopefully be clearer after I’d gotten some sleep.

Baxter was sitting on the side of the bed when I came out of the bathroom, looking suitably sheepish. I couldn’t tell if it was feigned or genuine. Either was possible. He offered me a smile. “The whole Asher thing isn’t a big deal, you know.”

I roughly towel-dried my hair while I contemplated his words, unsurprised to find that Asher favored the really expensive kind that felt like a cloud against your skin. And they were white. Who had white towels? He was lucky I didn’t dye my hair, or they’d have been ruined. White towels. Cream carpet. There was a developing theme here about how easy it was to replace things when money was no object. “No?”

Baxter shook his head. “A really hot man lusting after you could never be a problem, and I was joking about him being a stalker.”

“Your jokes are really off tonight.”

“Yeah.”

There was a note in Baxter’s voice I wasn’t used to hearing. “Are you okay?”

“If something happened to you, I’d have no one to talk to.”

I opened up a drawer, raising an eyebrow when I found it contained clothes that all looked to be my size. Among them were some pajama pants and T-shirts. I picked some that matched and put them on without bringing Baxter’s attention to them in case it started him off again. “You talk to people on the other side, right?”

“Not really. Most people there are too…”

“Too what?”

“Lost.”

I switched the light off and crawled under the duvet, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling. “I guess they would be if they’re stuck there. Not dead. Not alive. Something else.” When Baxter was silent, I raised my head. He was still sitting on the side of the bed, his body language dejected. “I wasn’t talking about you.” I would have given anything at that moment to squeeze his shoulder, but if I tried, my hand would go right through him.

“Of course not. I can come here. They can’t.”

“Yeah. You’ve got me.”

“And you’ve got me. Bad jokes, and all.”

“Don’t I know it?” There was a fondness in my voice, though.

“Don’t let O’Reilly kill you.”

“I’ll try not to.”

“Asher will keep you safe.”

“Maybe.” And how strange a concept was that, that a man I’d only met tonight would be prepared to put himself between me and O’Reilly.

“I have to go.” Barely were the words out of Baxter’s mouth before he disappeared. I closed my eyes and prepared to spend hours awake, rehashing every second of tonight, but exhaustion carried me under almost immediately.

There was no sign of Baxter in the morning when I woke. After a brief study—and a sniff—of my clothes from the previous day, I settled for the ones Asher had left for me, even more to be found in the wardrobe once I’d opened it up. He’d thought of everything, including socks and underwear, my cheeks heating when I discovered the briefs were tighter than I’d usually wear. Was that what he liked to see men in?

Once I’d put on blue jeans and a dark gray T-shirt, I went downstairs to look for Asher. I found him in a small conservatory with the morning sun streaming in through the window. He had his back to me as he carried out a series of moves that looked like some sort of martial art, but in slow motion. The moves themselves would have been enough to snag my attention, but him only wearing a pair of sweatpants that sat low on his hips to do them that showed off every flexing muscle, made it doubly fascinating.

My cock twitched as I lurked in the doorway, aware that I was acting like a voyeuristic pervert but unable to muster the self control to stop myself. I was undeniably attracted to him, but it felt like a normal response to a half naked male with a perfect physique putting himself through his paces. Not the all-consuming desire I’d expected when coming face-to-face with my fated mate.

“Did you sleep well?”

I jumped, my gaze meeting Asher’s in the reflective surface of the window he faced. Heat rushed to my face at the knowledge he’d been able to see me all this time. How long had I stood there gawking at him? A minute? Two? Longer? I’d been studying him like he was a piece of meat and I was deciding on the best way to cook him. The only saving grace was Baxter not being here to see it. Although, chances were he’d have been too busy sizing Asher up himself to have noticed. “I did,” I said. “Surprisingly well, considering.”

Asher nodded. “Good. I’m glad. Sleep always makes things seem better.” He hadn’t stopped his movements, both arms making slow and controlled circular motions. “Tai Chi,” he explained. “I start every day with at least thirty minutes.”

“ Every day?” The thought was horrifying. “What about those days when all you want to do is lie on the sofa in your PJs and eat bacon sandwiches while you watch crap TV?”

“I don’t eat red meat, and I don’t—” Asher stopped short of finishing his sentence.

Had he been going to say he didn’t wear pajamas? I averted my gaze from all the bare skin on display, my brain suddenly determined to fill in the blanks and speculate on how well endowed Asher might be beneath the sweatpants. “I’ll leave you to it,” I blurted. “I’m sure you weren’t looking for an audience.”

Asher turned slowly to face me, an impressive six pack on display. “I don’t mind. Not when it’s you.”

Not knowing what to do with that statement, the same as I hadn’t known what to do with the previous night’s revelations, I made a tactical withdrawal from the room.

“Calisto?”

I came to a stop just outside the room with my hand braced against the wall, refusing to make a reappearance unless I had to. “Yeah?”

“Please make yourself at home. What’s mine is yours. I should have said that last night, but in the heat of the moment, it slipped my mind.”

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

“Say nothing of it.”

I took Asher at his word and embarked on a self-guided tour of the downstairs. There was a second living room other than the one Asher had taken me into the previous night, this one dominated by a large TV more akin to a cinema screen. The rest of my exploration uncovered a dining room designed to seat so many people that even my family could have eaten there with seats to spare, a downstairs bathroom complete with the jacuzzi I’d speculated about, and a sauna thrown in for good measure, an office just as well kitted out as the kitchen, and a utility room.

It was tempting to continue my tour upstairs, but as I didn’t know which of the rooms on the second floor was Asher’s bedroom, and I didn’t want him to catch me in it once he’d finished his exercise, I decided against it. Asher didn’t strike me as the type of man that would take finding someone in his room as an invitation, but it was best not to test that theory on such a short acquaintance.

I made my way into the kitchen instead, a gnawing hunger in my gut reminding me of the side effects of last night’s adrenaline dump. The bacon sandwich I’d just mentioned to Asher would have gone down a treat, but as he’d just informed me he didn’t eat red meat, I assumed I was out of luck on that score. Maybe there’d be some vegetarian sausages or something similar. If they were of good enough quality, it was hard to tell the difference these days, especially if I smothered them in sauce.

The fridge and freezer offered nothing even remotely sausage related. In fact, it offered little of anything apart from fruit and vegetables. Toast, then. Toast would do. I wasn’t that fussy.

Except there was no bread. Not even a random slice lurking at the bottom of an almost empty packet. After that discovery, I opened every cupboard I could find, the search no longer about finding something I wanted to eat, but more about finding things in Asher’s kitchen that were actually edible.

“Are you looking for anything in particular? If so, maybe I can help.”

I spun around, relieved to find that Asher had taken a shower, his slightly damp hair the giveaway on that front, and that he’d dressed in a suit. It was a different one to the day before, this one a darker gray. It was just as expensive looking, though. “Food,” I said with a slight laugh. “I was going to help myself to breakfast, but I couldn’t find anything. I guess you were due to go shopping.”

“I have food,” Asher said. To my ears, he sounded defensive. Had I said something insulting? I hadn’t thought so. “I just eat healthily.” He started pulling items from the fridge. “I can make you a smoothie.”

“Erm… I guess.” It wouldn’t be the first, second, or even tenth item on my list of favorite things to have for breakfast, but I supposed it was better than nothing. Had I been in O’Reilly’s custody, I doubted she would have offered me anything at all, so it paid not to be ungrateful. “If you don’t drink caffeine, why have you got a coffee machine?”

“There is such a thing as decaffeinated coffee.”

Right. Course there is. “Have you got any?” At least I could fool my body into thinking it was the proper stuff.

“No.”

Confused, I opened my mouth to repeat my original question, but thought better of it. Who was I to barge into Asher’s life and question everything he did? We all had our little quirks that might seem strange to other people. Besides, there were more important things at play than breakfast. I’d be better concentrating on those and letting the rest of the stuff take care of itself. “Are you going to work?”

When Asher frowned, I gestured at his suit. “You got dressed up.”

He set the blender going, delaying answering the question until he’d flicked the switch off and the noise died down. “No, I’m not going into work, but a meeting has been called. They’ll come here.”

“They?”

Asher poured half of the concoction from the blender into a tall glass and passed it across to me. “Cade, John, Griffin, Bellamy, and I assume Ben, if he can make it. We have things to discuss.”

“O’Reilly…” I said with fatalistic gloom.

Asher nodded. “She won’t be pleased you escaped her clutches.”

That was an understatement. “I guess she didn’t have the possibility of me disappearing into a wall on her bingo card of likely outcomes.” I took a sip of my smoothie. It was no bacon sandwich, but it was pleasant enough. I expected I’d be hungry within an hour, though.

“It has the perfect combination of healthy fats and protein in,” Asher explained. I nodded like I had the faintest clue what he was talking about. “I start every day with one.”

There was a running theme here. One, I had to tamp down on the temptation to point out. It seemed Asher was one of those ‘my body is a temple’ sort of people. From what I’d seen, it was certainly worth worshipping, so there was something to be said for the effort he’d put in. I took another sip of my smoothie. Perhaps taking my time would fool my body into thinking it was more satisfying. “It’ll be nice to see everyone. I know I only saw them yesterday, but it feels longer.”

Asher gazed around the kitchen. “Is Baxter here?”

I shook my head. “No, he went…” I’d been going to say home, but that wasn’t the right word to describe the vast expanse of nothingness that made up the space between worlds. “He went back.”

“Is there a schedule to how he comes and goes?” Asher sounded genuinely interested.

“No.” I frowned. “Or at least I don’t think so. He’s never said that there is. And he disappears for differing amounts of time. Sometimes hours. Occasionally, a day. Once he didn’t come back for two days. I thought he was gone for good, but then up he popped like he’d never been away.”

“Can you call on him?”

I contemplated the question while I finished the smoothie. “Why would I need to?”

Asher gave a half shrug. “I’m just curious and trying to understand how it works.”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’ve never tried. It’s a lot to have Baxter around. You know what with the whole not being able to look at him or talk to him when others are around, so I kind of see the time when he’s not here as a break. Don’t tell him I said that, though. He can be prickly.”

Asher dipped his head in acknowledgment. “You have my confidence.” There seemed to be an unspoken promise there from the intense way he was looking at me. “How are you feeling about other things this morning?” he asked.

“Other things?”

“About us?”

Heat started at my neck and worked its way up to my face as I struggled to think of an answer that wouldn’t offend him. “I… erm…”

“You can be honest with me. In fact, I’d rather you were. A relationship built on lies is no relationship at all.”

A relationship! Were we having a relationship in his eyes? I didn’t remember agreeing to that. If anything, I’d done the opposite. He’d said himself he could tell I wasn’t feeling it. Did he think things had changed? Perhaps he’d misread my interest in him while he’d been exercising and turned it into more. “Asher, I…”

The chime of a bell broke the silence, Asher letting out a sigh. “There’s someone at the gate. I should let them in.”

“You should,” I agreed a little too hastily and with far too much cheer. “Don’t leave them standing there.”