Page 19 of Haunted Spurs

She rests a hand on my forearm to guide me slightly to the right, showing me exactly where she wants me for the lighting. Her grip is light, hesitant, but the jolt of electricity that hits me is brutal. I’m mesmerized by her black-painted nails, her dark red lips, and that intoxicating, cool scent of orchids and thunderstorms clinging to her skin.

My heart is hammering against my ribs at three thousand beats a minute, my chest expanding with every breath.

She freezes, too. Her hand stalls on my arm, her fingers lingering against my tense muscles. I watch her swallow hard, the line of her throat bobbing. Then, her gaze slides up from my arm and locks onto my mouth.

If I kissed her right now? Knowing her, the odds of her kneeing me straight in the balls are way higher than her kissing me back. Still… I could try. Fuck, the temptation is so strong it actually hurts.

I lean in, erasing almost all the space between us, stepping right into her orbit.

“You mean… here?” I murmur.

My voice comes out low, gravelly. What I really want to ask is if she’s okay with me getting this close to her, but I manage to mask it, making it sound like I’m just asking for a fucking blocking cue for the video.

“Just… a little more this way,” she replies, her voice dropping into a husky, intense whisper that shoots straight to my groin.

Her scent saturates my lungs. For the past ten days, I’ve tried everything to chip away at her armor, to get to know her a little better. She is incredibly guarded, but I want… I want so badly for her to let me in. I want to know more about her. To really know her.

If I gave in to instinct and pressed my mouth to hers right now, I could ruin everything.

But, God… I want to. I want to so fucking bad my chest aches. My throat goes dry, and suddenly, the denim of my jeans feels like a vice.

Then, right when I’m about to cave, something snaps. It’s like a cold, impenetrable filter suddenly drops over Selene’s expression. Her eyes go wide. The hesitation vanishes, swallowed by panic.

“I—I have to go.”

She jumps back as if she had just burned herself on my skin.

“Hey, wait…” I protest, instinctively reaching a hand out to her, as reality smacks me in the face with the violence of an ice-cold shower.

“It’s getting late.”

She starts gathering her things in a frantic rush. She shoves her notebook and pens into her leather bag with jerky, neurotic movements, carefully avoiding my gaze.

I let out a heavy sigh, running a hand over my face. I don’t want to force her to stay. But I hate this damn script. I hate the way she always pulls away. Is she afraid I’m going to overwhelm her? Does she think I’d hurt her? Why does she always act like this?

And yet… dammit. I know she had a good time with me. I felt the way she shivered, I saw her unravel under my hands. I didn’t make that up.

I push off the bed, ignoring the tight, oppressive ache in my jeans, and grab a gray t-shirt off the back of the chair, pulling it over my head.

“I’ll walk you home,” I offer.

“No.”

“I’m just going to walk you,” I insist gently.

“No. I like walking by myself.”

She slides her arms into a cardigan to cover up the little slip dress, pulling it tight around her body.

“It’s late, Selene. I’ll take Ollie for a walk, use it as an excuse…”

She stops. She doesn’t turn around. “I like the dark. It clears my head.”

I give a half-smile, exasperated and completely charmed at the same time. “Okay, Queen of Darkness,” I concede. “But… I’d still like to walk you.”

Selene shoots me a withering glare.

“Stop giving me puppy dog eyes,” she says. “I’ll text you when I get home… so you don’t have to worry about the big, infamous Elm Hollow serial killer.”