My first check was in my bank account. I pulled up the app to look at it again. Four figures and a comma! I’d never had a check this big. Cash, sure. I sold a car off the books and managed to keep the money in a hole in my mattress. But never had my jobs waitressing, being a sales associate, or cashiering ever paid with a comma in one check.
Things were looking up for this poor country bumpkin.
A text bubbled at the top of the screen. I didn’t recognize the number, but I clicked on it when I saw the preview.
Unknown: Why are you still awake?
Chills prickled over my skin. My eyes shot to the window, where the curtains were pulled back so I could enjoy the steadily pouring rain.
Rolling out of bed, I pushed the too large sleeves up my arms and peeked outside. The glass was speckled with heaven’s tears. The night beyond was gloomy and filled with shadows.
I was about to text back that it was none of his business—because I was fairly certain I knewwhothe text was from—when the screen blinked again.
Unknown: I’ve been waiting for you to look at me.
My heart jumped. The cozy warm room was suddenly chilly. As if the howling wind ripped through the glass, invading this seemingly safe space.
I was vulnerable, standing here, staring into the dark, but I wanted to see where he was. An idea popped into my mind, and I typed out a text, hitting send. I peered into the dark, watching for the light of his screen.
There!
Under the dark cover of a blackened tree.
Now that I could see the shape of his body, I caught that midnight gaze—unwavering. Unblinking.Hungry.
It was how he’d watched me at dinner tonight. How he’d watched me the past few dinners. Breakfasts too! Because he’d been using his room at the big house, staying here so his grandmother wouldn’t be alone.
Was this the first time he’d been outside watching me? Why hadn’t I thought to check before now!
Me: Stalker.
Unknown: Don’t leave the curtain open if you don’t want me to watch.
I shivered.
His jaw was tight, shoulders rigid, posture predatory yet controlled. I brushed my fingers against the glass, wanting to reach out and touch him across the distance.
Unknown: Is that…my shirt?
Me: It’s comfortable.
I slid my hand over the opposite arm, pulling the material down along my skin. I hadn’t meant to keep it when I found it in the laundry. But it looked really good laying on my sheet every morning when I made my bed. And at night? It wasn’t even a conscious thought at this point to slip it on before exhaustion consumed me.
So much for forgetting about the line we’d crossed the night of the ghost tour. I accused him of not forgetting, when I was equally as guilty.
But now, my stomach did a dangerous little flip. He knew my secret.
Fear and longing spiraled together in an intoxicating combination.
I set my phone down, tapping the flashlight to point up at me so he wouldn’t miss it. Inching the hem up my thighs, I drew the material over my body. When it was free, when I wasvulnerable, I held it above my head as if to say,“Come and get it.”
Below, Nico jerked violently. He stepped forward before he stopped himself.
This was dangerous. While I was still technically safe because these four walls kept us apart, I was risking too much by showing him my hand.
He already suspects I wanthim.
The way he’d kissed me today. It was hungry. I almost showed my cards. Which was all for nothing, because I was revealing my hand right now.
