There’s a note pinned to his door, but he rips it down as soon as he sees it. I don’t have a chance to read what it says before he’s tucked it into his pocket, out of my prying eyes’ view.
Before I can ask him about it, he leans in and unlocks the door.
It puts him in unfortunately close proximity, and I try not to lose all my better senses again over the scent of smoke and leather and pine andmale—too many good things all at once.
The moment passes, though, and he leans away, leaving me reeling and feeling like an idiot all over again.
We step inside, and he moves to light a lamp at the side of the room.
The inside of Callum’s place is pretty sparse.
Like a studio apartment back in the human realm, all the essentials are laid out in one room. A small kitchen, living space, and bed tucked into a small alcove in the back corner. There’s a door on the far wall that I assume must lead into some sort of bathroom, but who knows? It’s not like I have a lot of experience with demon dwellings.
But it’s clean and tidy and smells faintly of that same deep, sharp, masculine scent I was losing my mind over just a few seconds ago. It’s so comforting and strangely familiar that it takes way longer than it should for the full gravity of the situation to wash over me.
I’m alone.
With Callum.
With my supposed demon mate.
In the small space, there barely seems to be enough room for the both of us.
He’s just so… here.
So big. So present. Even with his wings tucked in tight, standing off to the side in the small kitchen like he’s trying to give me space to acclimate and get comfortable, it’s undeniable.
We’re here. Together. Alone.
What the hell was I thinking?
I wasn’t.
Just like I never think. Just like I never take a damn second to run through any of my impulsive, insane plans before I—
“I know we didn’t have time to stop at your home or get any of your things,” Callum says. “So if you’d like, I’ve got some spare clothes that you could—”
“It’s alright,” I interrupt before I can give myself more than a second to imagine how cozy it would be to pull on one of his shirts and curl up in that demon-sized bed. “I’ve got everything I need in here.”
He looks at my small satchel dubiously, and I let out a soft laugh before crossing to the two-seater dining table. Like everything else in the apartment, it’s seen better days. Worn wood, scratched from years of use, but perfectly clean as I start pulling things out of my magickally extended bag.
“It’s a charm,” I explain as I take out a toiletry kit, a pair of sleep shorts, and a t-shirt. “One that makes it so I can fit more inside.”
“Clever,” Callum murmurs. He watches silently while I unpack, then nods to the door I spotted earlier. “The bathing chamber is through there if you’d like to freshen up.”
Damn, I guess I’m just making myself right at home, aren’t I?
But I swear I can still feel the grime and smell the stink of all those spores, so there’s no way I’m not going to take him up on the offer.
The bathroom is bigger than I expected.
Made to accommodate wings, I suppose.
With a deep soaking tub, a toilet that thankfully looks similar to what we use in the human realm, a basin sink, and a small, round mirror on the wall.
Goddess, I could have done without the mirror.
I look like death warmed over. Whatever Soleil forced down my throat in her workshop stopped the effects of the spores, but did absolutely nothing to keep me from looking like the corpse I was trying so hard to become.
