That couldn’t be a thread of amusement in his voice. No way. Because this was so not funny.
“Agnes,” she said. Agnes? Really? That’s the best she could come up with?
“Agnes, huh? Well, Aggie, why are you in the closet?”
“I like closets. They help me think. They’re quiet and dark and cool.”
“You like the dark?”
She hated the dark. She was starting to wonder why she’d hidden in here. It was getting a bit creepy and claustrophobic and . . . okay, she was starting to panic.
Stop being an idiot, Millie.
“Come out of the closet, baby doll.” The voice he used was almost . . . tender. It did weird things to her insides. Made her shiver in pleasure.
Made her want things she knew she couldn’t have.
“I’m okay.”
“Your voice is shaking.”
“It’s always like this before I have a coffee.” Liar. Liar.
There was a long beat of silence.
“You hiding from me?”
Well, duh.
She bit her lip on that reply. “No, like I said. I like closets. Closets are great. Not scary at all. Nope. Nuh-uh. They’re really useful. Good for lots of things. Like hanging up your clothes . . . why is the ground not opening me up and swallowing me whole?”
“Millie—”
“I’m not Millie.” Okay, at this point she just sounded ridiculous. “I’ve lost the plot.”
“Come out now.” His voice was firmer this time.
Shoot. It was hard not to obey him immediately.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m too embarrassed.”
“Why?”
Wasn’t it obvious?
“Is this because I found your vibrator?”
He found her vibrator? Oh no! She groaned. “This isn’t happening. It’s not happening. This is all some awful dream.”
“Everyone masturbates. It’s normal.” His voice was gruff and tight. As though he wasn’t nearly as relaxed as he was pretending to be.
Everyone masturbates? It’s normal? Really? This is where he was going?
“Kill me. Kill me now.”