10. Rosie
10
ROSIE
As I lie on my back on my air mattress, my ears are hyper-tuned to every sound. I imagine mice skittering behind the walls, just waiting for me to fall asleep so they can devour me.
There’s a creaking sound downstairs and then what sounds like a door shutting.
I sit up. “Daire?”
If he’s moving around downstairs, there’s no way he’d hear me call for him.
Be brave, I tell myself. Go check.
I ease the covers off my body and awkwardly climb off the mattress. Outside my room, the hall is pitch dark. I make a mental note to pick up a few night lights.
“Daire?” I hiss, fingers skimming the side of the wall as I make my way toward the stairs. “Hey?” I start down them. “Are you here?”
At the bottom, I flick the light switch in the foyer and slam my eyes shut as the space is flooded with a blinding light.
A creak sounds to my right, and I jump. “Hey,” I say louder this time. “You’re scaring me. This isn’t funny, asshole.”
I move in the direction of the sound, silently urging myself to be brave.
But there’s nothing.
No sign of Daire, like maybe I just missed him.
This place has mostly been brought up to date, but it’s an older home, and old places like this have history. History means ghosts.
The door into the butler’s pantry slowly closes in front of me.
The second I see it move, I’m gone, sprinting up the stairs. Halfway up, I fall, banging my knee harshly against the wood. Curses fly out of my mouth as I scramble to get my feet back under me.
I turn down the hall toward Daire’s room, hoping like hell he’s playing a prank on me and I’ll find his bed empty.
No such luck. When I throw open his door, he’s asleep, one bare arm crooked over his eyes. I whimper, the sound doing nothing to stir him.
“Daire?”
Still nothing.
I move a little closer. “Daire?”
The guy is out. I bite my lip. Maybe I can move my bed in here without waking him up…
I don’t particularly want to venture out of this room, but what choice do I have?
Easing out of his room, I tiptoe down the hall, keeping a careful eye out and praying we have a nice ghost that doesn’t prey on twenty-one-year-old girls.
I get the mattress up on its side and push it out my bedroom door. By the time I make it down the long hall, I’m sweating. Clearly, my three-days-a-week workout routine is not enough.
I left Daire’s door open a crack when I left, so I use the mattress to push it open.
Only I push a little too hard. The mattress turns into a battering ram, and the door flies back and slams into the opposite wall. As it bounces back, the mattress slips from my fingers. It falls into the room with a thud, taking me down with it. At least I have the mattress to cushion my fall.
Daire sputters awake at the commotion, arms flailing and dick… dick swinging, because apparently, he sleeps naked.
Stop staring at this dick!
But I can’t look away.
I’m dickmatized.
Dickstruck.
Dick—
“What the fuck, Rosie?” he bellows, breathing heavily with his hands fisted at his sides, ready to fight.
Words fail me. I’m too busy staring at him to even try to formulate a coherent thought.
Daire is a big guy. He’s an athlete, so he kind of has to be. Hockey is a hard sport, and aggressive too. I’m relatively tall, so I’m not used to feeling small, but I’m absolutely dwarfed by his hulking form. Forget my early estimate. This guy has to be six-five or even six-six. He’s a beast. His thighs are thick, his legs dusted with light blond hair that grows darker around his very big cock. The thing is nowhere near hard and looks like it could split me in half.
My mouth waters.
I take him in, perusing the perfectly sculpted planes of his chest. He’s big everywhere. Built like a Viking.
“Rosie?” There’s amusement in his tone now.
It hits me then—my blatant staring.
I zero in on the chain around his neck so my gaze won’t drop south again. My cheeks are on fire. Dammit. He definitely caught me checking him out. But you know what? Sue me. It’s his own fault for sleeping naked and looking like that.
“Um, h-hi,” I stutter, struggling to stand up.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, planting his hands on his hips.
Do not look at his dick.
“Can you…” I swish my hand toward his nakedness, “cover up?”
“Why would I do that when you clearly want to look?” Fuck me. “Now, I’m going to ask you again, Rose. What are you doing here?”
I wrinkle my nose and huff. He knows how much I hate to be called Rose. Almost as much as I hate to be called Rosemary. I was named after my great-grandmother. Thank God my dad started calling me Rosie-Posie early on and Rosie stuck. Most people don’t know my name is Rosemary, but Daire isn’t most people.
“There was a ghost.”
He gives a slow shake of his head, an incredulous laugh passing through his lips. “Sure.”
“I’m serious. A door closed downstairs, and my first thought was ghost. But I told myself not to be ridiculous, that it was probably you. So, scared as I was, I investigated. As you can see, you were very much asleep. Ergo, ghost.” I take a deep breath after my long-winded speech. “There’s no way I can sleep by myself now, so I was bringing my mattress in here. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
His jaw is hard, his brow lowered. “Ghost aren’t real.”
“Says you. I disagree.”
He pinches his brow, and my treacherous eyes use his momentary distraction to get another peek at his cock.
I’ve slept with a lot of guys, and I’m not ashamed of that, but I’ve never seen a dick like this in person before. I thought monsters like this only existed in porn. Daire could make some serious money if he wanted to venture down that path.
He clears his throat.
I’ve been caught… again.
“You act like you’ve never seen a cock before.”
Hearing that word, cock, coming out of his mouth, has my stomach performing somersaults.
“Not one like this,” I admit. The second the words are out, I wince. The last thing I want to do is compliment the asshole. “Wait.” I lean in, squinting. “What’s that?” I point at its head. “Is that thing pierced?”
I’ve only heard of such things, never seen it in person.
“Uh, yeah.” He rubs the back of his head, still not at all fazed by his nakedness.
“When did you do that?” I blurt.
He shrugs, keeping his gaze averted. “Drunken bet sophomore year. Hurt like a bitch. Couldn’t have sex for months, but chicks love it.”
I swallow thickly. I’ll just bet they do.
“Anyway,” I inhale a breath, “can I crash here?” I clasp my hands beneath my chin. “Please?”
I can’t believe I’m pleading with Daire, of all people, to save me from the ghost, but I’ll get no sleep otherwise.
Sighing, he surveys the mess I’ve made with my blankets and mattress. “Might as well. You’re already here.”
“Thank you! You won’t even know I’m here.”
He frowns, brow furrowed. “I already know you’re here.”
“It was a figure of speech.” I straighten the sheet and scoop up my blankets. “This place really is haunted, though. You’ll see.”
“Mhm,” he hums, watching me wiggle around in an attempt to get settled. “Impossible that it could be a draft or the house shifting.”
“Are you going to put pants on now?” I ask, swiping a pillow off his bed because I’m not about to go back to my room and get one of mine. The one I had tucked under my arm is probably on the floor in the hallway.
“Nope.” He settles on his bed, pulling the covers over his body.
It’s quiet between us for so long I’m convinced he’s fallen asleep.
But then, from the darkness, he says, “I’ll take a picture for you.”
I roll over so I’m facing him. “Huh?”
“A dick pic. That way you can look your fill any time you want.”
With a squeak, I roll away again and bury my head under my blanket. “That won’t be necessary.”
He chuckles, amused by my obvious discomfort. “Good night, Rosie.”
I don’t respond, but I think it’s a while before either of us goes back to sleep.