Page 42 of Ghosted

Alice’s brows lift. “You’re not serious.”

“I usually am when fire is involved.”

“You can’t smoke in here.”

I glance around like I’m noticing the shelves for the first time, cigarette balanced between my fingers. “Why not?”

Alice gives me a look. “Because it’s a library.”

“So?”

“So there are books.”

“Old ones.” I lean back in the chair, eyes on hers while I tap the cigarette against the edge of the table without lighting it yet. “Looks like they’ve survived worse.”

Her gaze drops to my hand, then snaps back to my face. “Are you always this committed to being an asshole?”

“Only when I have a pretty audience.”

“Oh, well then lucky me.”

“Very.” I bring the cigarette to my mouth, but don’t light it yet. “Besides, no one’s down here but you and me.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“No?” My thumb rolls over the lighter. “You gonna tell on me, Alice?”

Her expression tightens, but she doesn’t look away. “Maybe.”

I smile around the cigarette. “Liar.”

The word lands soft, but the air between us doesn’t. She’s still sitting there with one hand near her camera and the other flat on the old anatomy book, pretending she isn’t tracking every little movement I make.

Smart girl.

I flick the lighter open.

The flame catches, small and bright between us.

Alice’s eyes drop to it.

“There are alarms,” she says.

“Probably.”

“Sprinklers.”

“Sounds a bit dramatic, don't you think?”

“You’ll get us kicked out.”

“Us?” My smile spreads before I can stop it. “Careful, Alice. That sounded dangerously close to couple behavior.”

“It sounded like I’m trapped in a basement full of old-ass books that could go up from one spark, with an idiot holding fire.”

“Right.” I lift the lighter a little, watching the flame flicker between us. “Romantic lighting. Privacy. Shared danger.” My grin gets worse. “You’re really selling the intimacy here, pretty little witness.”

Her eyes narrow. “I’m selling arson charges.”