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Then the music ended. The theater went silent, except for the sound of my harsh breath.
And a loud, slow clap coming from somewhere in the house area.
Caspian stood with one shoulder leaned against the wall near the entrance. He wore a white T-shirt and dark jeans. Even casual, he looked like royalty. His stare burned right through my long-sleeved leotard and leggings.
I held my breath as I watched him walk down the center aisle between the rows of seats. I thought I’d spent the last few days missing him, but the truth was that he’d never left. He was always there, under my skin, in my bloodstream.
“You know you could always send a text or call.” I smirked at him. “Unless the whole creepy stalker vibe is your thing.”
He stopped in front of the stage and looked up at me. “You think it’s creepy?” The glint in his eye told me he already knew the answer.
No.
I didn’t.
I probably should have. But the thought of him watching without meknowinghe was watching excited me in ways that were nowhere near healthy.
I bent down, grabbing a white towel from the stage to wipe my face and neck. “It’s definitely not normal.”
Caspian pulled himself onstage with minimal effort. Like hoisting himself up onto a three-and-a-half-foot-high platform was an everyday thing for him. He made his way over to the blue X I stood upon. I breathed in the scent of him, a heady blend of bergamot and leather. All male. All sophistication. The sheer power of his presence made my stomach flutter.
He brought his hand to my face and ran the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. “Nothing about us is normal.”
You can say that again.
He pried my mouth open, then stuck his thumb inside.
I curled my tongue around it, drawing him farther into my mouth.
Caspian pulled his hand from my mouth and cupped my ass, yanking my body against his. “I like watching you.” His erection dug into my stomach. The fabric between us didn’t even matter. I still felt him as though he were buried inside me. The air between us was charged, a magnetic force that refused to be broken.
I smiled. “I can tell.”
He stroked my cheek with the front of his index finger. “I want you to dance for me.”
I almost melted into his touch. “I just did.”
“I mean when we’re older, sitting in the living room. I want to shove the coffee table out of the way and watch you dance.”
“For someone who likes to disappear, you sure are planning ahead.”
He brought his other hand to my ass. “You’re fucking right I am.”
I met his stare. “And what if, in this imaginary scenario, I want you to dance with me?”
“I don’t dance.”
I trailed a finger down his chest. “You know, dancing is like making love, but with clothes on.”
“We both know I don’t do that either.” He squeezed my ass tight with both hands, pressing me harder into him.
“We’ll see,” I said as I pulled away from him. My body immediately hated feeling his absence.
His loud groan filled the auditorium.
I walked over to the sound system and scrolled to the next song on my playlist. The soothing voice of Sara Bareilles filled the air asGravitystarted playing.
“I’ll walk you through it the way you did the first time you kissed me,” I said when I went back over and stopped in front of him.
