𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 [𝟏𝟖+] ✔

30

Eric doesn't find this even slightly amusing.

All I can do is hold my midsection while I laugh at our ridiculous luck, and he's staring at me, murder in his eyes, nostrils flaring. "How the fuck is this funny?"

It's really not, but I'm a second from my giggling turning into a flood of tears. My back hits the wall opposite him, taking all the air from my lungs, covering my mouth. "This is our luck." I shake my head, laugh subsiding, voice lowering. "We need better luck."

He sighs, thumb and ring-clad finger rubbing his eyebrows before pinching the bridge of his nose. Eric seems as if he's about to pass out from rage. "No, what we need is for you to tell Ainsley to let us out," he says, clenched fists dropping to each side of his body. "Frank isn't anywhere near the manor and there's not a fucking chance you're contacting Gary."

"Fine." I tilt my head, giving him a questioning look. "I meant to ask you about Frank. He's the one who told me to go to the stockroom that day. Does he know?"

He stares at me, unblinkingly.

My brow raises, giving him a few more seconds to respond before I tut in annoyance. "Is that such a difficult question to answer?"

Eric blows his cheeks out and glares over my shoulder. "Can you just contact Ainsley before someone finds us?"

Typical.

He tries the door again, huffing when he's unsuccessful. For some reason, another laugh drops from my lips that I fail to stop, but it's less about our situation and more from how closed off Eric still is. I've no idea why he gets so moody from simply asking the idiot a question. But I do understand his frustration right now, this is far from safe, and I should be panicking in case Mum finds us. All I can do is shake my head and fight a bitter smile.

I like being locked in a room with Eric, even if he is hot and cold, turning paler with each passing second. After all, it is his life on the line, not mine.

The butterflies should really stop now.

But he wanted to meet me here. This man, tall and full of muscle, terrifying yet knows how to touch me so delicately, wanted to spend time with me. His lips had crashed down on mine and nothing else mattered. Well, until time restarted and reminded us that we're hanging off the edge of a cliff, barely holding on.

One slight false movement and we're doomed.

I guess I'm a thrill-seeker.

His mood had been so easy to mirror, but now, he's close to blowing the room up with how much he's pacing, waiting for me to contact Ainsley and inform her that we're trapped in maintenance.

Oh, God. My cheeks are starting to hurt.

Eric stops in front of me, furious. "Why the fuck are you laughing again? Chuck it, Dan. This is serious."

I wipe under my eyes, biting my lip while I press buttons on my band to contact Ains. The beeping starts, then abruptly stops. I try once more, and she cancels the call instead of answering. Eric's jaw tenses, his eyes burn into me before he begins pacing again.

He's about to blow, and all I can do is hold in a bloody laugh.

Once more, she cancels. "How convenient," Eric snarls out the words, twisting the ring on his thumb. "Remind me later to tell her she's a fucking dickhead."

"Oh, shut up. She's drunk," I reply. "Can you calm down?"

He scowls at me. "No."

It's only now that I realise the room is really hot, before I thought it had been because of Eric and I all over each other. But no, boilers are lining the back of the room, a machine clunking fills the silence, and a cupboard full of cleaning supplies gives off a strong chemical stench.