WHAT?!
9
“You kissed me,”I say, stupidly.
He grins. “I did. Free will, remember?”
I just sit there, wide-eyed, while my brain does the whole computer-crash, spinning-rainbow-circle thing. I feel his saliva cooling on my mouth. I mean, I can still freaking taste him!
(Mint and… fennel?)
“Why would you do that?!”
His eyes gleam, boyishly devilish. “Because you are feckin’ adorable! Beautiful, actually. And since you decided to turn down Rafa, I figured I’d chance my arm.”
Literally, not a single word he just said makes any actual sense.
“Chance your what now?Beautiful?What are you talking about? You’re a spirit! And I might be a lot of things, but I’m not?—”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Attractive? An absolute ride?Lovable?” He sharpens his gaze with a spark of anger whileI stare back at him blankly. “That sounds to me like your mam talking.”
Uff.
Okay. There are probably amillionreasons not to get involved with an all-seeing, God-tier spectral entity. But the fact that he’s fully aware of things I wouldn’t even tell my best friend (if I had one!), and can casually throw them in my face, has got to be one of them.
I glare at him, and he immediately raises up his palms in surrender. “I’m sorry, Alvin. It was rude of me to bring her up. But she’s said so many things to you that were flat-out wrong, and she’s been doing it since you were very young. It breaks my heart how it’s made you see yourself.”
I still have every reason to be seriously annoyed. But his expression is so caring, I find it hard to keep my grip on my anger. I continue to glare at him, though, because if I don’t keep my grip onsomething, I’m going to lose my mind.
“You act like you know me. Even when you first saw me back in the house.Why?”
Collin purses his lips slightly and frowns. “When the watch is being used, if I’m ignored for a little bit, I can… ask questions for myself.” He glances back up at me, vulnerable again. “You were the answer to one of my questions.”
His words hit me somehow. I’ve never been the answer toanyone’squestion. And he just called me beautiful—something that’s also never happened before—and seemed to mean it. Despite my best intentions, I feel my guard dropping.
“Um, what was the question?” I ask, my stomach vibrating, heart beating a little harder.
He sighs and shakes his head, but doesn’t let go of my eyes. “I don’t think I should tell you.” Catching my wary frown, he raises his hand. “It’s nothing bad! I promise! It’s different meeting you in person, but I know enough to have a good idea how you’d react and I don’t want to influence you. I want you to be safe.”
My mind spins over that. What kind of question would put me in more danger just by knowing it was asked?
He squeezes my hands, and I’m immediately back with him. His eyes search mine, his lips pressed into a melancholy line. “Look. I get it. As far as you’re concerned, I’m a stranger. Maybe I am pushing for too much, too soon. Just because I want this, because I want you, doesn’t mean you’re going to feel the same way.”
Because I want this. Because I want you.Even if I could never act on it, I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited for someone to say something like that to me. Someone who wasn’t forced. Who meant it.
And as for my feelings... He doesn’t have Rafa’s big muscles or chiseled cheekbones. His face is soft, kinda like mine, and framed with gentle blond curls, which is nothing like me. There’s a sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of his nose. The blue in his eyes captures light like a jewel. And his grip is warm and strong. I know he’s a spirit—or something like that, anyway—but he feelsreal. Like a real boy holding my hands for the first time. The kind of boy I always crushed on in junior college and never got to have.
I’m in trouble.
I lean back, trying to create at least a little more distance on this cramped love seat. But I don’t let go of those hands. And I give him the most honest response I can.
“I don’t know what’s going on here.” My voice sounds strangely low, husky.
“Do youwantto kiss me, Alvin?” He looks up through his eyelashes, shy, but underneath it, I can see his desire.
A desire for me. But if he does for some weird reason have actualphysicalneeds, he should be getting as far away as possible! Incubi who don’t know what they’re doing can kill people. Sometimes they even do it on purpose, because it’s more fun. I have the power to make others want me, even if they think I’m disgusting. Even if they know what I can do. It’s wrong. It’s awful. It’s rape. Even if I’ve never used that power, it’s what makes me a monster.
I’ve fought this part of myself for years, but I’m not made of stone. My control is slipping, the monster inside me straining against the bars of its cage.
