Revelation

by Randi Cooley Wilson

  ***

  Asher guides me into the room, my hand still entwined with his. We enter and my eyes immediately land on the powerful angel standing by the large window. Michael’s focus is centered on the grounds.

  His commanding presence humbles me. The angel’s dark blond, neck length hair is styled with little effort. His broad shoulders demand your attention and confirm his existence as a heavenly force to be reckoned with. Michael’s warrior stance is intimidating, to say the least.

  I take a breath in anticipation as he turns to face me, jade eyes locking onto mine. He doesn’t look a day over forty. Nervously, I study his straight-faced expression and flawless skin. I tighten my hold on Asher as he tugs my hand in a reassuring gesture.

  Michael watches me for what feels like forever. I’ve moved closer to Asher, intimidated by the ethereal being’s presence. My eyes want to look away, but I can’t.

  Sensing my discomfort, Asher pulls me behind him in a protective position, causing Michael to switch his intense gaze briefly to Asher then back to me. The room is silent. No one is breathing. Yep, this is officially the tension room.

  Michael walks over to me, stopping in front of Asher, whom he acknowledges with a curt nod. Asher bows his head in return, no words spoken.

  My protector squeezes my hand before releasing it and placing his on the small of my back, moving the slightest bit to the side to allow the archangel access to me. I bite the inside of my cheek.

  Michael reaches his large, divine hand to my head and places his palm to my forehead, causing my eyes to shut as well as his. The soft palm is held in place for the slightest moment and then he removes it. His stare meets mine, lips tilting up as he mimics the slight bow to me as Asher did to him.

  Asher’s hand on my back gently forces me forward, closer to Michael. Presenting me. “Archangel Michael, warrior of Heaven, it’s my honor to offer you, Eve Collins, daughter of Heaven and whom you’ve graciously bestowed me the honor of protecting.”

  Holy shit. I take a step forward. Not knowing formal angelic protocol, I just stand there hoping it’s not rude. Michael silently scrutinizes me again as if trying to decipher how to address me. The silence is killing me so I decide to take the initiative as verbose as only I can.

  “How do I know you’re an archangel? You don’t glow, have wings, and you’re not wearing white,” I query like an idiot.

  To this, Michael cocks his head to the side. Bewilderment settles on his angelic face as if not understanding what I said.

  I lift my chin at his examination of my face.

  “Child of Heaven, you mock me?” Michael asks, astonished.

  Crap, I’ve insulted him. Before I can apologize, he begins laughing. Confused, I look around at everyone else. They’re smiling now and snickering.

  I huff in anger, not privy to the private joke, and turn my wide eyes back on Michael.

  He offers a warm smile and gives me a paternal look, causing a momentary bout of sadness to flash through me, thinking this is the way my dad would have looked at me if he were alive.

  “Come, Eve.” Michael extends his hand to me. “We have much to discuss.” He motions to the couch and I sit, still reeling from being the ‘laughing stock.’

  The divine being surprises me by sitting informally on the coffee table across from me. Now that I look at him, he has an overall casual demeanor.

  Asher takes a seat on the couch to my left, Callan to my right. The girls stand near the fireplace hearth with Keegan.

  “Before I begin to explain who and what you are, Eve, let me answer your previous questions. I can assure you I am the Archangel Michael.” He smiles at me, amused. “We don’t glow, have halos, or wear white. Not all the time, at least. I’m afraid that is mankind glamorizing us. I do have wings, which you can see if I want you to. Otherwise, they are retracted and hidden from sight. Any other questions about the myths of the angelic world?” he asks with humor laced in his voice.

  I shake my head, voiceless at his laid-back repartee and humor. He grins at my reaction.

  “Alright then, are there any specific questions you would like to ask me before we start?” he questions with a sincere tone.

  “Yes.”

  “Please. I’m happy to answer anything you would like to know.” Sincerity is heavy in his voice.

  “Why are you wearing black pants and a white button down shirt?” I inquire, my tone serious.

  His laugh is boisterous. “I’m here on your plane so I thought I would dress more appropriately in an attempt to make you comfortable. Similar to what you’re used to seeing,” he answers.

  His black dress pants showcase his large, muscular legs. The white button down shirt has the top button open, and he has the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looks more like an older brother of a friend than a divine angel.

  “A bit relaxed for a soldier of paradise,” I jab.

  “That’s the idea,” he replies, his warm eyes twinkling.

  “Anything else with regard to physical appearance?” he asks, jesting.

  “Not at the moment,” I say, chewing the inside of my cheek.

  “Wonderful. Then let’s get started by playing catch up. I’ve experienced your visions and realm crossing visits, and the St. Michaels have informed me of your contact with Nero, the Barghest, Lady Finella, and some members of the Declan clan. It would seem you’ve had quite an ordeal,” he states.

  I cut him off. “Wait. You’ve experienced my dreams and realm jumping; how?” I ask, attempting to not freak out.

  “When I touched my palm to your forehead, I was able to pull your visions and the interactions you’ve had with the Barghest and Lady Finella,” the angel explains.

  “Well, that’s a neat little trick,” I shoot off sarcastically.

  “Michael, you’ll have to excuse Eve. She’s still grasping all this and is having a difficult time accepting some of the abilities are true.” Asher tries to cover for my snippy behavior.

  I shoot him the death glare. He just smirks at me in a cocky manner.

  Michael turns his soft gaze back to me. “That’s quite alright, Eve. It’s very understandable. Much of what we tell, and have told you to this point, is far reaching for your acceptance. You’ve grown up a mundane. Therefore, our worlds and ways are foreign to you. We’ll excuse much of the poor behavior you are currently exhibiting for that reason. However, you will show me and the St. Michaels a level of respect. We are here to help, not hinder your learning process. Do you understand?” he reprimands with a gentle tone.

  I nod my head, annoyed I’m being put in my place.

  Callan leans in to whisper, “You just got schooled.”

  I give him the stink eye and he giggles like a child.

  Michael smiles with warmth. “How much divine history has Elizabeth provided you?”

  “Not too much. She felt spirituality was more important than conformation,” I answer.

  Again, he beams brightly, almost proud. “Well, Elizabeth always did push the boundaries. It is one of my many favorite things about her.” He looks wistful. “I digress.” Okayyyy.

  His focus regained, he continues. “I will not bore you with the entire story of how things came to be, and this certainly is not meant to be a sermon. However, you need to understand why you were created, Eve. That merits a small amount of historical background.”

  I straighten and encourage him to continue. “I’m listening.”

  “Heaven’s legion has been at war with Lucifer’s dark army for centuries, with countless casualties on all sides. That’s nothing new. After exhausting all avenues, and many attempts at peace, something significant had to be done to secure the safety of future generations. So, I requested my spirit be placed in another. A human to help redeem mankind. A query that first went unanswered by the Angelic Council. Instead, I was sent to lead our legion into battle against Lucifer and his army. Eventually, the Angelic Council agreed to my proposition, though the implications at the time were
unknown.”

  Michael continues his old world accent, hypnotizing me. “Ultimately, we were able to secure a peace treaty that both Heaven and Hell signed. Regrettably for all parties, including mankind, it was set to expire on the twenty-second of May of this year.” He stops, watching me with an eerie stillness.

  Realization hits me. “Wait, my eighteenth birthday?” I look to Asher and then back to Michael.

  “Yes, that’s correct, Eve. In preparation for another spiritual conflict, a war in which human beings would once again be wedged in the middle, the Angelic Council agreed on a divine secret weapon, if you will. You, Eve. It was decided we would create a redeemer who shall liberate mankind, a direct descendant whose soul carries the spirit of an archangel and the pure bloodline of Heaven.” Michael pauses, letting the information he’s just shared sink in.

  I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and sit back on the couch. Holy shit, it’s real. I open my eyes and lock them onto Michael’s as he nods gently, letting me know my conclusion is true.

  “My parents died when I was a baby. Were they angels?” I question.

  “No. They were humans. Good, loving people who were granted a daughter. The council decided they were a good fit to raise you. Unfortunately, Lucifer got wind of your existence and found Katherine and Robert Collins, ending their existence before we could protect them. Uriel and I found you in time, but it was too late to save them. They died honorably, protecting you,” he explains, sadness tinting his voice.

  At the sound of my parents’ names, my eyes begin to sting. I attempt to blink it away.

  “We brought you to an old friend of mine, Elizabeth, who agreed to shelter and guard you. Over the years, we’ve had Power and Guardian angels watching over both you and Elizabeth, shielding you from Lucifer. Once you turned eighteen, your bloodline would ascend, essentially alerting every demonic and supernatural being within Lucifer’s legion of your existence. Which has happened,” Michael clarifies.

  I just sit for a moment in the quiet, allowing this information to sink in. “Did my parents know what I was?”

  “No.”

  “How is my bloodline pure if my parent’s were not angels?”

  “At the time of your creation, the bloodline was transferred and your soul touched. That is all I can offer at the moment.” Michael says with a solemn tone.

  “So my Aunt Elizabeth isn’t my mother’s sister? She isn’t a blood relative?” I try to make sense of how she is related to me because we look exactly alike.

  “No, they were not sisters. Make no mistake, Elizabeth loves you as if you were her own child, Eve. That never was false. Everything she did over the years was for you, because in her eyes, you are her daughter. She has loved and protected you and still does to this day. She has given up a lot to make sure you were concealed and safe,” he states, leaving no doubt or room for argument.

  “And you know her?” I ask, kind of freaked out that my aunt hangs out with an archangel.

  He gives a small, sad smile. “Yes, for a long time. Over the years, I checked in on both of you on several occasions,” he replies pensively.

  “Why don’t I remember you?”

  “Simply because I didn’t want you to.”

  I ponder this information, willing my stopped heart to start beating again.

  “If you had Power and Guardian angels watching over me my entire life, where are they now? Why did you have to hire Asher and his family to protect me?” I ask, my voice just above a whisper.

  Michael leans his elbows on his knees, tilting closer to me. “The Angelic Council agreed your guardian protection would last until your eighteenth birthday, at which time you would ascend, alerting Lucifer and his legion of your existence. If they knew we had created you in our favor to assist mankind, we would be in breach of the treaty, ending centuries of peace and placing the world in great peril. It was assumed once you ascended, you would carry the appropriate capabilities to protect yourself,” he explains. “Watching you over the years, Elizabeth and I realized that when you did turn eighteen, you would have no real understanding of who you are or protection skills against the evil world. Knowing this, I went back to the council to ask for assistance but they denied my request. In this war, both sides are expected to play fair, though it’s not always the case,” Michael justifies.

  “So I was just created and then left to fend for myself against all that is evil? Who does that? Why on earth would your side allow this to happen?” I accuse on the verge of screaming.

  He sighs. “Eve, there is much you do not understand when it comes to ‘my side.’ The social order is built on trust, regulations, checks, and balances. The consequences of breaking those rules hold severe punishment, including falling for some angels,” he answers, guarded.

  “How is Asher my protector if I’m not supposed to be protected?” I snap.

  “We’ve had a long standing relationship with,” he looks up at Asher and Keegan, “the St. Michael clan. They belong to The Spiritual Assembly of Protectors. We go to them on occasion with assignments. I felt they were the appropriate clan to act as your sentinels. So I hired them to do so,” he finishes casually.

  “Isn’t that going against the rules of the Angelic Council?”

  He smirks wryly. “Technically, no. They never said I couldn’t hire outside bodyguards for you, just that they would not provide celestial guards.”

  “Wait, what about Aunt Elizabeth?” I panic.

  “She is still protected by Power and Guardian angels overseen by myself,” he states.

  I stare at him, my mouth partially opened. An archangel who bends the rules? Go figure.

  “Eve, I realize this is a lot to understand. It was our hope to ease you into the ascension. However, Asher tells me you unknowingly crossed realms to The Kingdom of the Fae and Lady Finella inadvertently awakened your knowledge. Your safety is our utmost priority and with the increase in demonic presence, we felt it’s time to inform you of who and what you are.”

  “I don’t recall realm jumping or Lady Finella. I don’t always remember my dreams,” I reply.

  “I see. First, let me assure you. What happened was not a dream. As we now know, one of your gifts, of many we hope, is that you can cross realms. Meaning you’re able to travel across planes from earth to other lands, such as The Kingdom of the Fae. That’s why you thought it was a dream. It’s a very revered skill, one I will teach you to harness and use at will in the event you need help from other spiritual beings,” he assures with excitement.

  “Hold on. Are you saying I will get ‘abilities?’ I can go into different realms, and fairies are real?” This is starting to become too fantasy world for me.

  He sighs at my lack of grasp. “Yes on all accounts. It’s due to your pure bloodline and archangel spirited soul.”

  “Am I going to—poof—turn into an angel or something?” I question with trepidation.

  “I don’t know yet what powers and abilities will come of your ascension. Your soul is touched by an archangel. All I can say at the moment is you are a mystery waiting to unfold for all of us to admire. Your capabilities and potential will evolve and present themselves with time, just as the realm jumping did,” he says with a grin. “However, you are not, nor will you become, an angel. Angels are created of fire and don’t have souls. You are human and have a soul. You’re also not nephilim, as you were not born of the fallen and a human. You are pure. The only one in existence,” he finishes in awe of me.

  The only one in existence. Great! “You don’t have a soul?” I ask, bemused.

  “No, only humans have souls. That’s a large part of what the war is all about. Your soul gives you free will to choose your path and destiny.”

  “So I could choose not to be a weapon? The demonic legion would have to leave me be, right?” I ask as a spark of hope ignites.

  “Perhaps, though I don’t believe they would leave you be,” Michael offers with hesitation.

  “Am I immortal or s
omething?”

  “Right now, you are a human who can be hurt. You are not immortal. Only time will tell what your ascension brings, Eve,” Michael clarifies.

  “So what’s next?” I ask, not really wanting to know the answer. “Is there a playbook or something I need to follow to accomplish the redemption of mankind so I can get on with my normal life? What about all the demons chasing me? Are these people,” I motion my hand to everyone in the room, “going to just kill them all?”

  “There is no timeline for when this will come to fruition. It is apparent from the visits of Nero and the Barghest that Lucifer is aware of your existence. He is sending demon warriors to scout. I need to go back to the council and regroup on next steps. In the meantime, the St. Michaels will assist in your protection, training, and ascension. I will also help guide you once your abilities and powers manifest,” Michael enlightens.

  “That’s it?” I utter sarcastically. “Hey, Eve, you’re a weapon for Heaven and every demon in the world wants you dead, not to worry though, you’re being protected by twenty-somethings and your next steps are to return to class as normal?” I’m hysterical now.

  “Eve, we don’t know yet what the fallout of this will be. We are assuming a lot of things. Your ascension is in the very beginning stages. We’ll watch it, work with the changes, and prepare for war. In the meantime, yes, life must move on as normal. There are rules and protocols to be followed,” Michael cajoles.

  I swallow, looking around. Everyone is staring at me with sympathy. I need some space so I get off the couch and move toward the door without a word.

  “Where are you going, child?” Michael asks.

  “I need a minute.” I walk out with Asher at my heels.

  I turn to look at him, my eyes wet with my unshed tears. I want to speak but no words come out of my mouth. I’m feeling overwhelmed. I was just told everything I know about my life was a lie. My entire world just turned upside down.

  Asher walks to me and captures me in a strong embrace. Stroking my hair gently, cooing in my ear. “Shh. It’s okay, Eve. I’m here,” he comforts, allowing me to stain his shirt with my tears.

  “It’s not. My life is a lie,” I choke out.

  He steps back a bit, takes my head in both his hands, and looks at me with a stern expression. “It’s not a lie, it was a shield. You are fated for greatness, siren. Everything was done by people who love you and want to keep you safe. Your life was your own. Every decision, every moment, was all you. Do you understand?”

  I just stare at him. “Everyone I love has lied to me.”

  He holds his stance and his brows pull together in thought as he looks over my face. Something flickers over him. He looks pained. Asher opens his mouth to say something, but gets interrupted by Michael.

  “Eve, I apologize but I must go. I’m being called back. I will return when I can to finish our discussion and start your instruction. Until then, please trust and listen to the St. Michaels. They are your guardians,” he says with a stern tone.

  I figured he would vanish into thin air. Instead, he walks to the front door. Just as he opens it, I turn to him.

  “In the end, what makes you think I will choose this as my destiny?”

  Michael takes in a sharp breath and turns to me, simply stating, “Free will.”

  11 Rejection

  “Please tell me you’re not going to eat every single one of those?” Callan lifts an inquisitive brow.

  “Maybe. What’s it to you?” I snip in aggravation.

  “Eves, I know they’re really good but seriously, twenty-four chocolate chip cookies will make you sick,” he chastises, refilling my hot cocoa and taking the cookie container away. Jerk.

  “Do I even get sick?” I challenge him.

  “I don’t know. Do you?” he asks playfully as I roll my eyes at him.

  I sigh. “I guess. I did have the sniffles last year.” I place my half eaten fourth cookie back on the plate and push it toward him.

  Callan leans on the island, chomping on his own cookie. He’s watching as I text Aria to let her know I’ll be staying here tonight since she’s out with Leo again.

  “You know these cookies don’t just appear like magic out of nowhere. It takes time and love to get the chocolate and oatmeal proportions perfectly in sync so they’re chewy and gooey.” He smirks.

  I throw a mini marshmallow at him.

  Asher and Abby walk in, disrupting our moment of normal. Abby glides up to Callan, planting a big kiss on his cheek. “Hello, my love.”

  Callan wiggles his eyebrows at her. “Hey, baby.”

  “Ick. Your couple cuteness is going to make me toss my chocolate chip cookies,” I whine.

  “If you throw up, it’s because you ate four huge cookies,” Callan banters.

  Abby smiles. “For someone who doesn’t like sweets, I can’t believe you ate four of Callan’s sugar coma cookies.” She looks at the half eaten cookie on my plate and scrunches her nose.

  Asher moves to stand next to me, brushing the hair off my shoulders. His expression is serious; his eyes are intense as he scans me over for any sign of emotional trauma.

  “You okay?” he asks in a soft voice.

  “Is one ever okay knowing they’re the key to defending the world from evil?” I throw at him.

  “Eve—”

  I cut him off, raising my hand before he can continue.

  “Look, Asher, I get it. It’s sinking in. Could we just, for the next hour, pretend like things are normal and I’m not some weird weapon between good and evil and you aren’t some creepy protector that does everything but watch me get dressed?” I rant without thought.

  His eyes bore into mine, a sexy smirk forming on his lips. “Creepy protector? Is that what you think I am?” he questions, his voice seductive.

  I can’t tell if he’s serious or joking.

  I swallow. “I just meant,” I stutter, looking to Abby and Callan for help but they avert their eyes. Traitors.

  Asher leans in and his breath tickles my cheek. “Would you like me to watch you dress and undress, siren?”

  “That’s not what I meant,” I babble, flustered by his proximity.

  “What did you mean?” He’s amused and enjoying my discomfort.

  “I just meant you’re required to watch me, that’s all,” I huff a determined breath.

  He raises his eyebrows in response. Great job, Eve. Once again, you’ve stuck your foot in your mouth. Asher looks at me with his panty-dropping gaze. “You know what I would love to watch you do?” he purrs in my ear.

  Breath hitched, my eyes meet his. He turns my chair so he’s standing between my legs, arms on either side of me, caging me in.

  “What’s that?” I ask breathlessly.

  He moves closer and whispers in my ear, “This.” Without warning, he throws me over his shoulder. I squeal.

  “Ashherr, put me down.” I yelp.

  He smacks my ass. “Oh, I plan to, siren, after I watch you swim.” He heads for the French doors to the pool.

  “Don’t. You. Dare,” I threaten as we reach the pool’s deep end.

  He laughs wickedly before he throws me in.

  I come up for air and wipe the water out of my eyes. He actually threw me into the pool. Fully clothed. Shit. I turn my angry eyes toward him.

  “Are you fucking insane?” I scream.

  Laughing and amused, he just watches me. Probably because I look like a floundering wet rat.

  “Eve, it’s heated so I know it’s not that cold,” he says.

  It’s like bathwater but he still sucks. “You’re evil,” I counter, swimming to the side of the pool.

  His face turns cold. “I never said I wasn’t.”

  Asher’s demeanor causes me to pause. We just watch one another for a moment. Something changed. His face is hard and his body rigid. I feel the need to soothe whatever’s upsetting him.

  I speak quietly. “Ash, I didn’t mean anything by what I said. I’m sure i
f I looked deep enough into your eyes, I wouldn’t see a trace of evil there. I didn’t mean offense,” I say, trying to pacify him.

  He shakes his head. “Darkness is all there is behind my eyes, so don’t look too close, siren. You might not like what you find.”

  All of a sudden, Asher is a blur and then a big splash in the pool. Callan laughs hysterically after pushing him in.

  “Serves you right, man. Good luck, Eves,” Callan teases, throwing towels on the chair and walking back into the house with a smug look on his face.

  “Wait, Callan. You aren’t going to help me?” I screech.

  “You’re on your own, cutie,” Callan tosses over his shoulder.

  “TRAITOR,” I shout and Asher is suddenly beside me, treading water and laughing.

  I splash him. “I thought you were supposed to keep me safe, not drown me.”

  Without warning, he wraps his hands around my waist, pulling me toward him. Slowly, the gorgeous man runs his hands down the back of my legs, forcing them to wrap around his body and I clasp my hands behind his neck. My heart pounds from the way our bodies are tangled.

  Once satisfied I’m positioned securely, he moves us to the side of the pool, pressing my back against the cool tile as a slow, sexy, sinful smile travels all the way to his eyes as they scan my face.

  “Let me be very clear,” he says earnestly. “I. Will. Keep. You. Safe. That’s a promise.” He brushes my cheek with the back of his hand, increasing my heart rate as my stomach muscles clench.

  Asher’s eyes darken as he tilts his head, bringing his face to my neck. He nuzzles his nose just under my ear, inhaling as my throat goes dry.

  The lust starts to build and the need to have him closer is overwhelming. He presses me harder against the side of the pool, his body holding me in place. All the places we touch tingle with heat and energy, sending a shiver down my spine.

  “I can’t keep up with you, Asher.” My voice is breathy. “You’re hot one minute and cold the next.” My chest is rising in quick and shallow bursts.

  He leans back, making eye contact as he exhales a breath of frustration. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s not my intention to give you mixed messages.”

  I can’t function or think when he is this close to me. My body hums with energy. It’s like he sucks all my coherent thoughts out. Asher’s face looks forlorn and the urge to comfort him surfaces.

  “I love this.” I reach out a hand and run it across the stubble on his jaw, leaving a trail of glistening water on the small hairs that I just want to lick off. Check your hormones, Eve.

  He grabs my hand then presses it against his cheek, closing his eyes for a moment. When they reopen, his look is desolate.

  “I’m bound by my duties as your protector. I took an oath. I pledged to put your protection above all else. The consequences of going against those promises are dire. Not just for me but for you and my family.” His eyes scan mine. “I wasn’t supposed to have contact with you but now that I have, I don’t want to let that go.” The admission hits me hard.

  “Then don’t. I don’t want you to let me go,” I plead, grasping at him.

  Asher cups my cheeks and touches his forehead to mine. “I don’t want to let you down. If I do and you get hurt,” he closes his eyes and inhales, “I’ll never forgive myself.”

  “Ash, open your eyes and look at me,” I demand. “You won’t let me down. I know it. I see you. I believe you’ll keep me safe. Always.” I feel him slipping away from me again.

  “I’m sorry, siren. I have to honor the position I’ve been granted as your protector. This can’t happen. I’m duty-bound.” The rejection was gentle but firm.

  I lock my eyes onto his lips. The disappointment hurts. Our breaths entwine with one another.

  “Okay,” I barely whisper. Hurt crawls up my throat, stinging my eyes.

  “Okay,” he confirms, his voice hoarse.

  Gently, he takes my wrists and pulls my arms away from his neck and my legs fall from his waist of their own accord.

  “Come on.” He reaches out for my hand. “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes and into bed.”

  I raise my eyebrows.

  “To get dry and sleep, siren,” he confirms, giving me his sexy smirk.

  We get out of the pool and wrap ourselves in the towels, quickly walking back into the quiet house. I guess everyone is in bed for the evening.

  Asher grabs my wrist, turning me around. His face is concentrated with the need to say something but instead he frowns, focused on my blue, chattering lips.

  “Are you cold?”

  “Y-yes.”

  He laces his fingers with mine. “Come on. It’s late. Let’s get you undressed.”

  I raise my eyebrows again in fun.

  The sides of his mouth tilt up. “To shower, change into dry clothes, and go to sleep. Alone,” he clarifies.

  I internally pout.

  I stand in the shower for what feels like hours, allowing the hot water to warm me. Closing my eyes, I try to let the stress and anxiety of the day wash away. After I’m satisfied my body is warm enough and I’m relaxed enough for sleep, I get out and wrap a fluffy towel around my body and notice the t-shirt and shorts Asher left for me on the counter.

  I lift the dark grey shirt that says Property of London and smile, knowing it’s Asher’s shirt. I bring it up to my nose and inhale the scent that is all him, smoky wood and leather.

  Eyes closed, I get lost in his smell, not realizing he’s entered the bathroom until he clears his throat. My eyes pop open and meet his. Mortification creeps up my cheeks in the form of pink hues. Could I be any more obsessed?

  Arms crossed, he casually leans against the doorway, looking utterly entertained at catching me sniff his clothing like a stalker.

  I clear my throat. “I was just, um. I thought…I was just about to change. Thank you for the t-shirt,” I say inarticulately before coming to my senses. “Don’t you knock?” I narrow my eyes at him, trying to change focus because I’m standing in only my towel and still dripping wet.

  He shrugs. “Nope, it’s my house and you left the door open. For the record, from my viewpoint, it looks like you might be smelling my shirt.” His smile is sinful as he watches me.

  Crap. This bathroom felt a lot larger earlier. Is it closing in? I clutch the shirt to my chest and laugh with a nervous edge.

  “No. I was actually just wondering if the shirt was clean and if it was large enough to wear without shorts.” I internally roll my eyes, telling myself to stop talking. “You know, since the shorts are too big and all.”

  His voice is husky as he says, “Do you want me to leave or stay and do something creepy like watch you get dressed?” Asher smiles, proud of himself for bringing that back up.

  “I think I’ve got it. Thanks.”

  “Alright then. No protector needed to dress. Good to know, siren.” He chuckles and leaves the bathroom.

  I close the door, placing my forehead against it and exhale. “Way to be articulate, Eve,” I mumble to myself.

  Once dressed in the t-shirt and extra boy shorts that were in my bag, thank you, Aria, for your ‘always be prepared motto,’ I brush my hair and teeth and slather myself up in my lotion, also found at the bottom of my bag. I slowly open the door, eyes scanning for any sign of Asher.

  Pleased he isn’t there I pull it the remainder of the way open and head toward the bed. The sheets are soft on my tired body as I allow my exhaustion to take over and I slip into a deep sleep.