Page 32 of Bright Midnight


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“My point is, Anders, that I just spent hours talking with her and I like her. Okay? I like her.” She leans it close, her finger in my face. “Don’t fuck her over. I know you broke her heart once. Don’t you dare do it again.”

She turns around and heads back to Lise’s room without looking over her shoulder.

Her words sting, barbs in my skin.

I fall asleep still feeling them.

I’d do anything not to be that person again.

9

Shay

Then

We’ve been dating for six weeks now.

Tomorrow is Halloween.

We still have not had sex.

I’m starting to think there’s something wrong with me. Why won’t we progress beyond the hands down my pants and blow job stage? I mean, it’s pretty obvious that if I have his dick in my mouth, I’m up for something. And, well, so is he. Literally.

To be fair, he does want to go down on me, but I’m the one pushing him away. I don’t know. I just can’t imagine why he’d want to. It’s icky, isn’t it? And for some reason he keeps asking me. I don’t understand why any guy would want his mouth down there.

So I’m concentrating on making myself more attractive to him, in hopes we can get past the heavy petting stage (which, if I’m being honest, is more like heavy fingering). I’m pouring over my magazines, trying to apply the most “sex worthy” makeup, to make sure my legs and bikini line are always shaved, to have touchable hair and skin. Fresh breath is kissable breath, so I’m chewing gum and popping mints every time I’m in Anders’ presence.

Which is a lot. I’m with him literally every day after school and always at my house. I’ve only been to his place once, because his mother insisted on meeting me. That was a dinner from hell. You could have cut the tension between that family with a butter knife. His mother was kind, but had the resolve of their stainless-steel fridge. His stepfather was on the quiet side and barely looked at either of us. So after that, we decided to just keep hanging out at my house. After all, my sister is barely home and my parents are forever in India. You’d think that would be the perfect set-up for tons of epic sex.

Or just some sex.

Just once.

Even Everly asked me if we’d “done it yet” to which I gave her the same answer she gave me: “There are other ways to have fun.”

So for Halloween I’m going all out. I’m dressing as Cleopatra and wearing the skankiest thing I can get away with wearing at school, since we are allowed to wear our costumes, and then that night I’m taking away even more clothing. If that doesn’t get Anders’ attention, I’m not sure what will.

But, a few hours later, Anders shows up at my door unannounced.

I answer the door and he’s standing there on the steps. It’s raining lightly and the air smells like firecrackers and the threat of snow. His leather jacket is peppered with water, his hair damp and long. It’s nearly shoulder-length now. Everly says it’s the “Euro Trash” look, but I think it suits him.

“Did you walk?” I ask him, looking over his shoulder and not seeing the Mustang he usually borrows from his stepdad.

“They went out, hid the keys,” he says. There’s something weird about the way he’s looking at me. It’s intense. I know he can be an intense, brooding guy sometimes, prone to flights of fancy one moment and hot-headedness the next, but this look, this look, has me in its hold.

“You should have told me,” I tell him. “I could have taken Hannah’s car and come and got you. Or my mom’s, she said ‘emergency only’ but who cares.”

“You’re my emergency,” he says. “I couldn’t wait.”

I smile warily, intrigued. “Wait for what?”

“To tell you something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a long time now.”

My chest constricts. Dread. There’s something too wild about his look.

Dangerous.

Real.

Holy shit. He’s breaking up with me.

My eyes grow large, my lungs stop working all together.

He can’t…he can’t…

“Shay,” he says, walking up and stopping at the step below me, so we’re the same height. His voice is soft but ragged. As if what he’s about to say will break both of us.

He grabs my face in his hands and I watch the rain droplets slide down his cheekbones, his wet, black brows furrowed together. His eyes stare so deep into mine that I know he sees everything that I am.

He has so much power right now. So much.

“I love you,” he says.

I blink, not sure if I heard him right. All feeling leaves my body.

“What?” I ask, barely a whisper.

“I’m in love with you,” he says again, and now I recognize the look in his eyes. Feverish. Mad. “I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.”

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