Chapter 108

Ella POV

Hazel led Alexander and me up the stairs to a large bedroom. It contained a four-poster bed, a sturdy dresser, and a plush recliner with a quilt thrown over the back. The furniture was heavy, hand-carved wood, radiating an air of craftsmanship.

The room itself, however, was sparsely decorated—just a few landscape paintings adorned the walls, and nothing more.

“Please let me know if you need anything,” Hazel said warmly. “I hope you have a good night.”

“We’ll be all set. Thank you, Hazel,” Alexander replied with a kind smile.

“It’s no bother. If you need me, you know I’m just at the end of the hall,” Hazel said, lingering briefly before nodding and leaving.

When she was gone, Alexander and I stood in silence for a moment. He walked further into the room, sitting casually on the edge of the bed. “Hasn’t changed much,” he commented, glancing around.

My eyes widened. “This isn’t your bedroom?”

“It is,” he confirmed. “After I moved out, they converted it into a guest room—not that they had to do much to make the change.”

“Surely your childhood bedroom wasn’t this plain,” I remarked, gesturing to the room. “If you removed the bed, this could pass as a waiting room. It’s so…”

“Dull?” Alexander asked, smirking at me. “Seems it only takes a little wine for you to speak your mind.”

“I’m not trying to be insulting; I’m just surprised.”

“I never spent much time at home in my room, so it didn’t matter to me how it was decorated.”

“Your apartment is just the same,” I pointed out. “Very little decoration—it almost looks like a showroom.”

“I don’t spend much time there either,” he said. “I’m usually down in my office or working.”

“That’s all the more reason your room should be comfortable, filled with things that bring you joy and help you relax.”

“You really think that?” Alexander asked, his tone suddenly thoughtful. “And yet, you’ve removed all the things that bring you joy from your own bedroom, haven’t you?”

I hesitated, caught off guard. “I suppose that’s true,” I admitted softly. I walked over to a nearby chair and sat down. “Alexander, why did you agree to spend the night here? We hadn’t discussed it beforehand. Isn’t it a little awkward for you?”

“It would’ve been more awkward if we declined,” he said matter-of-factly. “It would’ve made her suspicious.” Then he smirked, his tone teasing. “Why? Are you nervous being so close to me when we’re alone?”

“I have no reason to be nervous around you, do I?” I asked, even as my heart fluttered slightly.

“Of course not,” he said, his expression softening. “If you’re uncomfortable sharing the bed, I can sleep somewhere else.”

“No, there’s no need for that,” I replied quickly. “It’s a big bed, and as I said, I have no reason to be nervous around you.”

Alexander smiled, a hint of satisfaction in his expression. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“Well, it is late. We should try to get some rest,” I said, standing awkwardly.

Alexander got up suddenly and walked over to the dresser. He rummaged through the drawers for a few moments before pulling out a large black T-shirt and a pair of pajama pants with a drawstring. Holding them out to me, he said, “They’ll be loose, but they should do for tonight. You don’t want to sleep in that dress, do you?”

“I certainly don’t,” I said, taking the clothes from him gratefully.

“There’s a bathroom through that door,” he said, pointing behind me. “You can shower if you’d like.”

“That sounds great. I’ll try not to use all the hot water.”

“Use all you like,” Alexander replied with a small smirk. “I don’t mind a cold shower.”

I glanced at him, tempted to respond to his odd comment, but the playful look on his face told me he was teasing. I decided to let it go; it was late, and I was too tired to banter.

Taking the clothes he’d handed me, I walked into the bathroom. Unlike the rest of the house, the plumbing here seemed to have been recently updated. The shower was surprisingly modern, with a sleek design and a rainfall showerhead. As soon as I turned the hot water knob, steam poured out, filling the room.

I eagerly stepped in, letting the water wash over my weary body. The tension from the long day melted away as the warmth soothed my muscles and cleared my mind.

It didn't take long for my mind to wander. Sleeping in the same bed with Alexander shouldn’t have been a big deal, and yet the thought alone was enough to make my heart race. I tried to keep myself focused on the task at hand, scrubbing away the day's weariness. Once I was done, I turned off the water and wrapped a towel around myself.

Stepping out of the shower, I walked over to the medicine cabinet. Glancing in the mirror, I winced at the sight of my hair—a tangled disaster. Of course, I hadn’t thought to bring a brush. Hoping to find a comb or something useful, I opened the cabinet.

It was immediately obvious that this was Alexander's bathroom. Everything was so high up, and given our height difference, I could barely see the top shelf, let alone reach it. Standing on my toes, I reached for a handle poking over the edge, hoping it was what I needed.

My fingertips brushed the handle, and several items toppled out. I let out a startled cry and jumped back as things hit the ground with a sharp clatter. My eyes widened when I realized it wasn’t a comb I had been grabbing—it was a shaving razor.

The blade landed on my foot, and a sharp jolt of pain shot through me.

Watery blood began pooling around my foot, and I stared at it in shock, the pain intensifying with every passing moment.

“Ella?” Alexander’s voice was laced with concern from the other side of the door. “You shouted—are you okay?”

“No,” I replied, my voice trembling with panic as I stared at the blood. “I’m hurt.”

“I’m coming in,” Alexander said, and before I could respond, he threw the door open.

His gaze immediately dropped to the floor, where the puddle of blood glistened under the harsh bathroom light. Without hesitation, he stepped in, his expression sharpening into focus as he assessed the situation.

He guided me gently to sit on the edge of the tub, then turned to the cabinet and retrieved a first aid kit. I was too embarrassed and startled to say anything, watching him move with an efficiency that left no room for questions.

Kneeling in front of me, he opened the kit and pulled out a few pads of gauze. “This might hurt,” he said softly, pressing the gauze firmly against the wound.

I hissed in pain, but he held steady, the pressure stemming the bleeding. The pain began to dull, replaced by the steady thud of my heart pounding in my chest.

As the initial shock faded, I found myself staring at Alexander. His head was bent in concentration, his fingers steady as he tended to my injury. The towel wrapped around me suddenly felt very thin—far too thin for the closeness between us.

My heart raced for an entirely different reason now, the intimacy of the moment leaving me breathless.

Alexander looked up at me and I heard his breath hitch as our eyes met. He had realized the situation we were in as well. His bright eyes looked stormy and he moved forward slightly, almost unintentionally.

The wild thought that I wanted to kiss him entered my mind, unbidden and undeniable. My gaze lingered on him, his jaw tight with concentration, his hands gentle yet firm as they worked.

But before I could act—or even fully process the thought—a loud knock shattered the moment.

“I heard a scream,” Diana’s voice called through the door. “What’s going on in there?!”

Alexander froze, glancing sharply over his shoulder. A muttered curse slipped from his lips, low enough that I doubted Diana could hear it.

A wave of nerves hit me like a freight train, leaving me momentarily paralyzed. My eyes darted to the door, then back to Alexander. How bad did this look? Me, sitting in nothing but a towel, Alexander kneeling in front of me, blood on the floor—it wasn’t hard to imagine Diana drawing all the wrong conclusions.

What should we do?