𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕎𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕙 (Book 2)

Fifty-five

Rhys finished whatever he'd struggled to pull himself away from as his gaze finally wandered to what was probably an awkward-looking me in a towel. His eyes widened and he began blinking as though he wasn't sure I was really there. His small burst of shock settled as a purely male grin replaced his features. He said nothing as his gaze shamelessly roved over my body. He was such a male.

Heat rose to my cheeks. Blushing. BLUSHING? I was blushing?! I sucked in an embarrassed breath, needing to leave right now. "Clothes." I said tersely. That made no sense. I tried again, "I forgot to pack clothes."

Rhys raised a brow, his violet eyes finally finding mine, "You didn't pack clothes?"

My lips thinned, "I was rushed."

"You had a week."

"Details. " I waved him off, "Clothes?"

Rhys leaned back on the bed, placing an arm behind his head with a satisfied smirk. He hummed, "I'm quite enjoying the view."

I scoffed as I shook my head. So classically Rhys. "You're barbaric," I told him.

Rhys shrugged, looking inclined to sit there forever. My annoyance rose, though, couldn't blame him for staring, I didn't have to look at myself to know I was hot. But I was getting cold. This place wasn't exactly warm, especially not in nothing but a very thin towel.

"Clothes." I repeated again, repressing a shiver. He looked like he was internally debating with himself—but it was very obvious he was just doing this to annoy me—so, I decided to help him along with his decision.

I turned my head to the left, finding the tall, out-of-place table that I'd noticed earlier. It was a darker wood with lovely patterns falling across it. But my favorite part was the stack of three, thin hardcover books on it. I picked the top one up, reading the title 'How to Get Away with Murder' I snickered. Ironic. I nodded, the book would do. I looked at Rhys again, still being annoying.

And then I promptly threw it at him.

It hit the wall right above his head before it fell onto his head. He chuckled, prying the book away from his face. I almost smiled to myself. It was a funny image: the High Lord of the Night Court laughing after a book fell on his head. It was hilarious until I remembered that I was still in a ridiculous towel, freezing my ass off.

"Why are you always throwing things at me?" Rhys practically pouted.

"Because its satisfying." I shrugged. "Now, give me—"

Rhys snapped his fingers, "Clothes. I know." he grinned, gesturing to the night clothes that had appeared on the bed. "I couldn't decide which scrap of lace I wanted you to wear, so I brought you a few to choose from."

"Pig." I seethed, "You're annoying."

Rhys feigned being insulted, putting his hand to his chest. "I'm hurt."

"Poor little High Lord." I cooed, "Go cry about it." I told him before I picked up the clothes from the bed and retreated into the bathroom to change.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When I emerged Rhys was finally plopped onto his own bed, it seemed he'd finally learned the definition of boundaries. For some reason, he vaguely reminded me of a squirrel. I didn't know why he did, or why I had that random thought. But Rhys was now a squirrel.

I walked over to the small bookshelf in the corner of the room, wanting to read. Books had already been thrown and read tonight, why not add to the list. I began sifting through the various titles, reading the backs of those that intrigued me.