The voice is muffled but I hear someone chewing him out.
It was hard to miss Iceman’s barked-out response. “Feed your ego to someone who isn’t paying you to listen. Know your place, Otis.”
That was the coach’s first name, Otis? I try to conceal my laugh, Cole sounding less than amused with my antics.
So, I compromised by hanging up. I shouldn’t have done it anyway. It could have waited. I got my book and that’s all that mattered.
He tries calling me right back, but I decline it and less than thirty seconds later I was getting a text from him. It was a passcode for his front gate, telling me to wait at his house until he could leave practice.
My response was a less than nice set of emojis, but I did what he asked. Not because he told me to do it but because a part of me was still shaken up and I didn’t want to be here when Lorna woke up.
Who knew how that would go? My best option is Cole’s place.
I had only been to his house that one time for dinner and it was an epic disaster. So, leaving the main floor and going to his room alone almost felt wrong.
Sure, I’d tried at his lake house but that was different, that was aguesthouse. This was his room. His bubble,hisspace.
A bit of uneasiness has been gurgling at the pit of my stomach since I walked over.
That was one perk. The Kellets and the Caspers lived in a private, regulated community so he only lived about a half mile down the road.
Eli and his family lived within the same area since his dad was head of security at Hardin. In charge of all things contracted to that. Silas and Abram weren’t stupid. You kept your protection close.
I force my hands to stay at their sides and not reach for my stomach. That knot cramped, fastening now that I was in his room. It felt so wrong.
Not that there was a whole lot to look at but still. The area was about as closed off as he’d made me feel sometimes. Keeping everything at surface level, giving away nothing of who he really was.
The overall size of the room was large but everything else standard.
Walls a dark gray. Comforter a cool lighter hue but the same shade. On either side of that, he had two glowing cubes that were used as his side tables.
A gaming station set up in the corner with a large flat-screen TV mounted to the wall. Sleek black chairs with a sofa below.
Nothing remotely personal hanging or displayed on any shelf. This could be anyone’s room. Not a thing screaming that it was his other than the color.
The grayish-silver Cole’s favorite.
It was neat and overly organized. Making it easy to spot if something went missing or moved.
I smirk to myself, knowing Iceman well enough to know that was intentional. A method of strategy. He never didn’t have one.
That is until I spot the one item that seemed out of place in his perfectly pictured room on top of the glowing cube.
It’s small and could have been easily scanned over. I pinch it between my fingers. It had weight to it for something that couldn’t have been more than three inches long in length.
The item is odd. Not something I could easily identify but it had to hold meaning because it looked aged. Almost like an antique. It didn’t fit with the rest of the room.
It’s made of metal and is the width of a straw. The end, an ornate oval bow, like a miniature scepter or baton.
“People who snoop are paranoid,” a placid voice behind me says.
I don’t jump but slowly straighten my posture, turning. I’d been caught red-handed.
“Don’t tell me you have no sense of respect for people’s privacy, princess,” Cole says. He wasn’t upset, more amused. One side of his mouth lifting.
I smile sweetly. “As if you’ve never snooped before.”
That grin grows. He seemed at ease, nonchalant. Relaxed, even. His shoulder leaning against the doorframe. Feet and arms crossed, observing me.