Chapter 14
Theo
Istared at my reflection in the mirror of the Dark Room's staff locker room, and honestly, I didn’t recognize the guy looking back at me.
My eyes seemed different—darker, like they were holding onto secrets that I didn't know how to let go of.
My skin still had that post-sex flush, a slight redness along my chest and neck that wouldn't fade despite the cold shower.
The muscles in my shoulders ached pleasantly, and there was a reddish mark forming just below my collarbone where Ricard's teeth had scraped a little too enthusiastically.
I ran my fingers through my still-damp hair after my second shower of the evening, trying and failing to tame the chaos.
The Dark Room smell still clung to me, that mix of sweat and sex and whatever fancy incense they pumped in there so people could pretend they were having some deep spiritual thing instead of just hooking up with randoms.
After the Dark Room, everything hit different—colors brighter, sounds louder—like all my senses had been dialed up to eleven.
Finding Ricard there sent this crazy heat through me that wouldn't go away.
It wasn't just being turned on, though there was definitely that.
It was something weirder, like my body recognized him before my brain did, like I was literally programmed to react to him.
The memory of his body pressed against mine?
Yeah, that was still sending adrenaline coursing through my veins, making my hands shaky as I tried to button my shirt.
My lips felt swollen, sensitive to even the slight touch of my tongue.
I closed my eyes and leaned against the sink, trying to catch my breath and regain my composure, but my heart seemed determined to hammer against my ribs like it was trying to escape.
“You okay there, Bennett?”
I startled, my eyes flying open to find Kris, one of the other companions, watching me from a few lockers down, looking at me like I was the most unremarkable puzzle piece.
“Yeah,” I managed, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “Just tired.”
Kris chuckled. “Dark Room will do that to you. First time's always the wildest.”
I nodded, just wanting to shake off the intensity from my previous encounter. “Don't forget your wellness check-in,” he said, calling over his shoulder as he walked away.
“Right, headed there now,” I said, trying to mask the spiral of thoughts threatening to take over.
Once he left, I took a deep breath, grabbed my stuff, and headed for the medical wing. The wellness center was way on the other side of the compound from the Dark Room, probably on purpose. Walking between them felt like crossing into a totally different dimension.
The wellness check went smoothly—blood pressure, temperature, the standard stuff.
Raj, the nurse, smiled as he took off the blood pressure cuff.
His hands were surprisingly gentle for someone with forearms that suggested he could deadlift a small car.
“Everything looks good. 118 over 75, which is excellent. Any discomfort or concerns?”
I shook my head, but the truth? It gnawed at me.
Physically, I was fine, but everything else?
A total mess. The medical examination room, with its pristine surfaces and faint antiseptic smell, felt like it belonged to a different universe than the one where I'd just been intimately entangled with a European royal in the dark.
“Great. Dr. Winters is ready when you are.”
After thanking him, I grabbed a protein shake from the café in the Wellness Center.
As I sipped it, I tried to make sense of the overwhelming emotions racing around like they were training for a marathon.
But like clockwork, I circled back to one person: Ricard.
His touch, his voice, way too intense for what this was supposed to be.
Soon, I reached Dr. Winters' office. After a few knocks that felt too loud, I stepped inside. The space was still as welcoming as ever, with soft lighting and comfy chairs. The air smelled like sandalwood and citrus, a blend I’d grown fond of.
“Good to see you, Theo,” Jamael said, extending his hand. I gratefully accepted it and sank into my usual armchair, feeling the relief of sinking into something familiar. “Thanks for fitting me in.”
“Of course,” he replied, settling into an open posture that made it easier to spill my guts. “I understand you just came from your medical check-in after your first Dark Room shift?”
“Yeah,” I said, fingers fidgeting with the hem of my robe, trying not to look like a nervous wreck. “All clear, physically.”
“And how are you doing otherwise? The Dark Room can be intense, even for experienced companions.”
I looked down at my hands, choosing my words carefully. “It was a lot. Both physically, mentally, and, you know, emotionally too.”
Jamael nodded like he got it. “Can you tell me more about that?”
I took a deep breath, the kind that feels like it could fill an Olympic-sized pool.
“Part of me really liked it. The anonymity.
Losing myself, letting my body be shared for someone else's pleasure. It was freeing, not having to think about anything except the sensations.” Heat crept to my cheeks. I mean, talking about this was cringe.
“That's common,” he said. “Many find liberation in that environment, especially those who carry a lot of responsibility. It can be a form of release.”
“Yeah, that vibes,” I agreed, thankful he wasn’t judging. But then I hesitated, knowing I had to address the elephant in the room. “But there was something else... a client I knew.”
“I see,” he said calmly. “How did that interaction go?”
Memories came flooding back like a tidal wave. “It was different from normal. More... real. Like we were just two people who wanted each other.” I looked him straight in the eyes. “I'm developing feelings for him. He definitely feels something too.”
There. I’d said it. The words hung between us, like an awkward emoji in a serious conversation.
Jamael didn’t freak out, just nodded thoughtfully. “This happens sometimes. The intimacy we provide can feel powerful, and it’s natural for emotions to develop on both sides.”
“So it's normal?” I asked, hopeful.
“Normal, yes,” Jamael confirmed. “But it’s complicated. May I ask who this client is?”
I hesitated, then said, “The duke. Ricard d’Moncloud.”
Jamael’s eyes lit up with recognition. “What specifically makes you believe he has feelings beyond the client-companion dynamic?”
I thought about it hard. “The way he looks at me. Like he's actually seeing me, not just a body he's renting for the night. And tonight, in the Dark Room... when he realized it was me, it was like nothing else mattered.”
“I see. You feel a connection.”
“Yeah, I guess I do,” I admitted, surprised at how easily that rolled off my tongue. “He reminds me of how I feel about Casey.”
“Both carrying heavy burdens, I see.” Jamael's tone was gentle. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Let's try something. On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate the intensity of your feelings for the duke?”
I shifted. “I don't know... maybe an eight?”
“And your commitment to supporting Casey's recovery?”
“That's a ten. Always.” The answer came without hesitation.
“Good.” Jamael nodded. “Now I want you to visualize these two priorities as actual physical objects. What do they look like to you?”
I closed my eyes. “Casey is like... this massive weight I have to carry uphill. Super heavy, but it's my job, you know? Ricard is more like... I don't know, some fancy bird that just randomly landed on me. Looks amazing, but obviously not something I get to keep.”
“Interesting imagery.” Jamael made a brief note. “How do you place your feelings for the duke in the context of your priorities?”
I kept my eyes closed, trying to sort through the emotional spaghetti jumbling around in my head. “Nothing matters more than Casey,” I said firmly, feeling like I was standing my ground. “I can't afford to get emotionally tangled up with a client.”
“How does that thought make you feel?”
“Like crap,” I admitted, a hollow laugh slipping out. “It's a relief in a way, but it also feels like my heart's doing a tango while my brain screams at it to stop.”
Jamael nodded, letting the honesty hang in the air.
“There's strength in clarity, even when it stings.
It's possible to acknowledge your feelings without acting on them. Think of it as creating a designated space for these emotions, like setting aside a special box where you can safely store them without letting them take over your entire home.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean recognizing you have a crush while keeping professional boundaries intact.”
“Right, exactly.” I sighed. “But I can’t stop imagining what it might be like if things were different.”
“That’s natural,” he said. “What you experience here is super intimate, but it's also happening in this carefully controlled bubble that's literally designed to make fantasies seem real.”
I thought of Casey, the reason I’d taken this job. “I know. But the weight of losing myself in this, especially with Ricard, feels risky. For both work and for Casey.”
“That’s a heavy burden,” Jamael observed softly.
“Yeah, and I can't shake off the guilt,” I said. “He'd do the same for me. After our parents died, he took care of me. Now he needs me.”
Jamael nodded, letting silence soak in. “Tell me more about him.”
I took a deep breath, ready to dive in. “Casey... he was always the strong one, making sure I stayed in school. But the accident left him needing me. I have to help him, with all the medical bills and everything. I was barely keeping my head above water with my regular job. This was the only way to give him a fighting chance.”
“I can only imagine how challenging that is,” Jamael said. “The need to provide for him weighs heavily.”
“Yeah. I came here to make it right. It's my turn to take care of him now.”