~4~

March 1, 2015

I hugged myself as a cool gust of air rushed through the corridor, sending a shiver down my spine. I waited for Darsh to open the door, rubbing my arms to ward off the chill.

"I'll get the clothes, you feed your dog," I said, heading to the other side of the house. Sliding the balcony door open, I was met with a sudden spray of rain. Why is it raining in the middle of March again? I grabbed the clothes, pulling them inside as the rain drenched me.

"Darsh?" I called out, not seeing him anywhere.

"In here," came his reply from his room.

With slight hesitation, I walked in. His disapproving gaze met mine as he noticed my soaked state. "You should have left them out there instead of getting drenched," he said, heading to his cupboard to fetch a towel.

I rolled my eyes, standing there idly, my gaze wandering around his room. That's when something on his table caught my attention. A diary? Really? I smirked, checking to make sure he was still rummaging in the closet.

I grabbed the book and began to open it, but before I could read a word, an arm wrapped around my waist, lifting me off the ground. My back pressed against his chest as his voice, low and teasing, sent a thrill racing through me.

"It's off-limits," he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear.

The sensation was electrifying, his fractured hand—still in a splint—resting against my waist while his other hand wrestled the journal out of my grasp. As much as I loved the tingling sensation coursing through me, my curiosity burned brighter. What was in that diary he was so desperate to protect?

Determined, I jabbed a finger into his splint, earning a string of muffled curses as he released me. With a squeal, I darted out of his room, my laughter echoing down the hallway. I was almost at the main door when he caught up, grabbing my hand and pinning me against the door.

Breathless, my chest heaving, I clutched the diary protectively. In a fit of desperation, I slipped it under my wet t-shirt, balancing it awkwardly between the waistband of my trousers and the fabric.

His eyes darkened with determination. "Really? You think I wouldn't dare?" he challenged, leaning in closer, his body closing the gap between us.

My hands pushed against him, but it was a feeble attempt. Deep down, I craved this closeness more than I wanted to admit. He captured my wrists effortlessly, pinning them behind me as he drew me closer. The intensity in his gaze sent my pulse racing.

His face hovered above mine, his hair grazing my cheek. The soft caress made my toes curl, and his breath, warm and steady, danced across the crook of my neck. My senses felt amplified, each second stretching into eternity as his free hand slid from my hip to my waist.

When his cast brushed against my bare skin, the jolt snapped me back to reality. My mind screamed to escape, but my body betrayed me, frozen in place.

Taking a shaky breath, I decided if he could go this far, so could I. Rising onto my toes, I pressed a light, fleeting kiss to his lips. The contact left me trembling, my knees weak, but it had the desired effect. He froze, his grip slackening as he released a sharp breath. His stunned expression was all the opportunity I needed.

I bolted from his room, darting into my flat and locking myself in my room before anyone could notice. Sliding down to the floor, I pressed a hand against my chest, trying to calm the erratic beating of my heart.

Did that just happen? Or was it all a dream?

Shaking off the whirlwind of emotions, I changed into dry clothes, carefully hiding the journal before heading out to dinner. I plastered on an innocent smile, pretending nothing had happened. But my heart sank the moment Darsh walked in and, of all places, sat right beside me.

~~***~~