The Male Luna (MxM) (Complete)

Chapter 22

Brayden

Stepping back, I see that we are in a large bedroom. It's rather plain, but a good size with a big bed against one wall and a reading chair in the corner. There's a gray comforter on the bed with a couple of matching pillows. It was a clean room, but unlike the warmth felt throughout the rest of the house, this room is a little less homely. Not cold, but definitely vacant. I would think this was simply a rarely used guest room, but through a crack of one of the doors on the other side of the room, I could see a full closet.

Feeling Damien's eyes boring into me I meet his gaze. He's breathing hard. His mouth is slightly open as he takes large, deep breaths staring at my dripping form and I see his hand grip the doorknob painfully tight in his palm. There's squeaking as the poor doorknob strains under the pressure, and rattles in his shaking hold.

I try not to glare at the man, remembering Kelsey's and my previous conversation about me trying to act more civil with my boss. But he keeps making it harder and harder to be in his presence.

I don't even know what to think anymore, the fucker is truly insane.

There's a brief pause before Damien takes a shuttering breath and curses before rushing further into the bedroom, speed-walking through one of the doors off to the side. Confused by his erratic behavior, I remain where I'm standing and watch as a light turns on through the door that he entered. While I can't see the details I can make out the tiled flooring and realize Damien is in an ensuite bathroom. Not too long after Damien entered the bathroom, I hear the banging of cabinets, followed by the toppling of bottles, and more curses.

I'm very bewildered by the turn of events in the last couple of minutes and decide I'm done.

"So, I'm just going to go- AH!"

I jump back and give a yelp of surprise as a towel abruptly hits my face.

"Dry off, now," I hear Damien demand in a gravely voice sounding slightly strained.

Scowling, I rip the item from my face and glared at the perpetrator.

"Are you kidding me?!" I exclaim, irritated at Damien, "There was a much more polite way to get me a towel," I hiss, fisting the fabric in front of me with both hands.

Damien shrugs as he stares at me, "You were soaking the floor. I figured getting you off of my mother's living room Turkish rug was first priority, and giving you a towel second," he explains smoothly, although his eyes seem to light up, amused at my irritation.

I open my mouth to refute him, but I can't. My eyes widen, and I realize that makes a lot of sense.

"Thanks," I mumble, as I release my tight hold on the towel and bring it to my face. I don't know how else to react. On the one hand, his words make complete sense, but on the other, his face looked too victorious to be considered polite.

I bend over slightly and I begin running the material over my hair. My hands move back and forth over the towel roughly, as I try to wring out the wet locks as much as possible. When I stand back up I'm surprised to see a t-shirt shoved in my face.

"What's that?" I ask, eyeing the clothing warily.

"It's an old high school t-shirt of mine. I figured you'd want to change into this rather than one of my mom's blouses," he stated, nonchalantly while thrusting the shirt closer to my face.

I can't help but let a smile slip past my lips at his joke before I quickly try to cover it up.

But it's too late.

Right after I give a quick smile, I see Damien's eyes light up as soon as my lips twitched. His once stiff body seems to come alive. His chest heaves, his fingers twitch, and his body seems to tremble for some unknown reason.