My eyelids are heavy as exhaustion rolls through me.
Stella was right. I’ve had a long twenty-four hours, and standing in this silent, dark room, I’m beginning to feel every minute again. I let out a breath and look toward the door. There’s no way to tell how long it will be before he arrives.
I wonder what’s expected of me. Am I supposed to wait for him before I lie down? Do I draw a bath, undress, light candles? I shake my head. None of those things feel right for a man like Adam.
Not that I’ve known any men like Adam.
After a moment, I wander to the closets and peek inside the smaller one first, not really looking at the dresses or lingerie before my eyes. I’m stalling, my nerves tight, trying to build the courage to open his. I don’t know why it feels so wrong to snoop around his personal space when I didn’t think twice about the rest of the house, and yet it’s there—an undercurrent of uncertainty, danger, even a twinge of fear.
But it has to be done. None of the other brothers have let me get this close. If there’s any chance I might discover something to help me find Frankie, I have to know.
Inhaling sharply, I close my closet and open the one beside it. Rows of pressed, black button-downs and crisp pants line the racks. Three polished pairs of shoes sit on an oversized shelf meant to store at least ten times that many.
Nothing else.
Chewing my lip, I work my way to the dresser and flit through the drawers. A wave of surprise runs through me when I see actual, normal clothes. Not entirely normal—no jeans or T-shirts—but there are immaculately folded undershirts, boxers, and sweatpants. Hesitantly, I trace a finger along one of the pairs of pants, careful not to cause a crease.
Does he actually wear these? I can’t picture it at all.
When the bathroom turns out to be as useless as the rest of the space, I remove my contacts then pad across the room, sinking exhaustedly onto the bed. It doesn’t feel as strange as I thought it would, being in his bed, although there’s nothing to give away that itishis bed. The whole room feels distant, clinical. Nothing to offer an ounce of insight into the seductive darkness I sense within him.
I try to stay awake, keeping the light on so I won’t fall asleep before he gets here. But soon my eyelids flutter shut, and I drift away.
