Play with the Phantom: Chapter 6

Ari

I stare at the small bedroom where Otto had deposited my suitcase earlier. It’s cute, in a beach cottage kind of way. Lots of white and seashell accents with a bathroom off the opposite wall of the bed. But it’s not the decor that gives me pause.It’s the bed. A very small… bed.single Turning toward Asher, he rubs the back of his neck and gives me an apologetic look.“My parents are quite traditional,” he explains, shuffling his feet. “My room is just down the hall⁠—”“Separate bedrooms?” I ask, arching a brow. “They do realize you’re pushing fifty⁠—”“I’m forty-five, Ari,” he deadpans, glowering at me. “And I know. It’s not ideal, but we have to respect their rules.”I bite my tongue and nod once. “Fine. But are there rules against sneaking around?” I ask, giving him a conspiratorial smirk.He shakes his head and averts his gaze, but doesn’t answer right away. Then, after a pause, he sighs.“Ari, I think it’s best if we don’t… you know, on this trip.”My smirk fades. “Wait. ”At all?He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I just don’t want to make things awkward. It’s only a week.”I stare at him for a second, something pulling taut in my chest. Only a week?How romantic.I force a small nod, shoving the frustration down. “Sure. Whatever.”Should’ve packed my vibrator.He bends down and gives me a chaste peck on the lips. “I’m sorry about my brother,” he adds, rolling his eyes. “It appears that twenty years behind bars did nothing to assuage his arrogant attitude. If you feel uncomfortable⁠—”“Asher,” I say quietly, placing a hand on his chest. “I can handle myself. I promise. But thank you.” Still, his words from earlier snag in my mind.“Promise me you’ll stay away from him, okay?”“He’s dangerous.”I want to ask what he went to prison for, but I also don’t want to know.“Okay. Well, I have a few meetings in the morning, so just help yourself to the house,” he says, already halfway to the door. “My parents will be around.”I nod slowly, but something about that feels… odd. I don’t his parents well. I was hoping to rely on him to navigate this whole week, but now it seems like I’m supposed to figure it out on my own.know“Right,” I murmur. “I’ll just… make myself at home.”He gives me a knowing smile before running a hand over his mouth. “We’re doing a gift exchange tomorrow, by the way. Sort of like a white elephant, but for midsummer.”My stomach drops. “What? Shit, I didn’t get anyone a gift.”“It’s fine, we can figure something out tomorrow, okay?”Guilt, heavy and suffocating, clogs my throat. So much for making a good impression…He quickly kisses me once on the head and turns to leave. Once the door closes behind him, I sigh and walk over to my suitcase. I’d probably packed too many clothes, but I had no idea what to expect this week.Flipping open the lid, my stomach sinks for the second time.A sticky, oily mess coats the inside of my bag. I groan, lifting my favorite and now ruined silk camisole to find that my face oil and shampoo have exploded, soaking through half my clothes. I manage to salvage a few things, but I already know I’m going to need replacements since we’re here for a week.I sigh, resigned. “This is not how I imagined this trip going,” I mutter under my breath.definitelyGrabbing my toiletry bag, I clean up as much as I can before tossing the ruined clothes in the corner of the room. Looks like I’ll have to go shopping tomorrow.Maybe I’ll go alone.Or maybe I won’t have a choice.At least I’ll be able to get a midsummer present while I’m out.A soft creak sounds outside my door, and I freeze. My eyes flick to the handle, but it stays still, unmoving. Maybe it’s just the house settling. Or maybe it’s someone walking by in the hallway.Shaking it off, I grab a fresh oversized t-shirt from the undamaged side of my suitcase and change quickly before getting ready for bed. A few minutes later, I flick off the light and climb into bed, curling up under the blankets.The house is quiet. Too quiet.As I close my eyes, something lingers at the edges of my thoughts, like an itch I can’t quite reach. My body is restless, and I can’t shake the ominous feeling off.I toss. Turn. Glance at the clock.Ten p.m.Pulling my Kindle from under the covers where I stashed it, I attempt to read, but my eyes skim the same page over and over again. Groaning, I throw my covers off and check the time.11:42 p.m.This is futile. If I’m awake, I might as well be something. Catching up on work emails, or learning French. doing Something.I toss back an Ambien, something I take whenever I have trouble sleeping, and then I pull my laptop onto the bed. I have about thirty minutes before it kicks in, so I might as well be productive.Clicking into my fan fiction account, I use the Wi-Fi password Asher had texted me as I check the recent comments for the story I’m writing. It’s a mash-up of and . My main character is currently on her knees for a seven-foot dragon hybrid, begging him to wreck her life.EragonGame of ThronesIn iambic pentameter.Because I have range.The comments have me cackling as I roll over in bed.Mommy? Sorry. Mommy? Sorry.Absolutely feral for this unhinged insanity. Pls write faster.Genuinely concerned for your mental health but in a good way.The last one makes me laugh harder. This is what I get for writing erotica in the style of Shakespeare.You and me both, bestie. Half a chapter in and six rhyming scenes later, my phone buzzes, and Asher’s name flashes on the screen.AsherHey. I feel like I kind of brushed you off earlier, and I’m sorry. Maybe I’ll sneak in later for some PG-13 fun?I blink at the message, my eyes already feeling heavy. The Ambien’s starting to kick in.That’s fine. I took an Ambien, though, so you can’t hold me accountable for anything I say or do.His reply is almost immediate.AsherLol. Okay. Maybe tomorrow?My lips twitch into a faint smile. I want to text something back, but the effort feels like too much.Yeah. I just need to sleep right now.The words blur slightly on the screen, and I lie back and close my eyes for what feels like just a second.“”Then sleep. I’ll take care of everything.The voice is soft, familiar, just enough like Asher’s to make sense in the haze of the Ambien.My lips part to respond, but my body feels heavy, sinking deeper into the mattress. Sleep pulls at me, warm and slow, until I’m not sure if my eyes are closed or if the room is just dark.Maybe both.Maybe neither.I don’t know how much time passes before I feel it—the mattress dipping beside me.I open my eyes, but my vision swims, shapes blurring into shadows.“Asher?” I mumble, the word thick on my tongue.The figure leans closer, a hand brushing my cheek. The warmth of the touch grounds me, but something about it feels… different.“Shh,” the voice murmurs, low and soothing. “Go back to sleep.”I blink, trying to focus on his face, but it’s hard to make out anything beyond the dark outline.I swear I see a dark, whirling pattern on his neck, but I can’t focus enough to truly determine if I’m seeing things again or not.“You came to my room,” I whisper, more a statement than a question. My limbs feel heavy, my head too foggy to question why.“I needed to see you,” he says softly.I smile faintly, my eyes drifting shut again. I’m not sure if I’m awake or dreaming when I feel his hands on my arms, pulling the blanket higher around me. His touch lingers, trailing down my shoulder, then back up to cup my cheek.“You smell different,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.“Do I?” he asks.The words echo strangely, like they’re both too close and too far away.I try to laugh, but it comes out weak. “Yes.” He chuckles softly, and the sound ripples through the room. “What’s so funny?”“Nothing, angel. Go back to sleep, okay?”“You’ve never called me that before,” I tell him, feeling sleep tugging at my consciousness.I feel the bed shift as he leans closer, his lips brushing my temple. It feels… unfamiliar.But it’s Asher. I can see him with my own two eyes. Barely—but it’s him.“Sleep,” he whispers.I nod, the motion sluggish, and let the darkness take over.When I wake up, the first thing I notice is the heaviness in my limbs. The Ambien always does that—leaves me groggy and unsure of where dreams end and reality begins.I sit up slowly, blinking against the sunlight streaming through the curtains. It takes me a second to orient myself.Asher. Beach house. Malibu.I smile when I remember how he tucked me in last night, how his rich laugh made me feel safe.But as I rub the sleep from my eyes, something itches at the edges of my memory, like a half-forgotten melody. The way he touched me, his lips on my temple, the quiet rasp of his voice. Something about it feels… off. I was alone when I fell asleep.Wasn’t I?“Nothing, angel. Go back to sleep, okay?”A flicker of unease skates down my spine as I grab my phone, texting Asher before I even have a chance to second-guess myself.I enjoyed last night. 😉It takes a few minutes for him to respond, and when he does, it’s not what I expect.AsherWhat are you talking about?My stomach twists. I suppose it wouldn’t be the first time Ambien made me dream about something silly.Did I dream it? Um. I think it must’ve been the Ambien making me hallucinate again.Three dots appear, then disappear. Then, finally⁠—AsherHow much Ambien did you take?I bite the inside of my cheek at his condescending tone.The normal amount.AsherYou’ve told me before it makes you do weird things. Remember that time you ordered an entire pizza and forgot about it until the delivery guy showed up? Or what about the goat?I sigh.I’ll never live the goat down, will I?AsherYou tried to adopt a goat off Craigslist. A real, live goat, Ari. What do you think? You’re not yourself when you’re on that stuff. You shouldn’t be taking it.Yeah. Tell that to my insomnia.I exhale, running a hand through my hair. I stare down at his texts again, and that unease doesn’t fade.Because no matter how much I try to logic my way through it, I know one thing for certain.Asher has never called me so where the hell did that hallucination even come from?angel,