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“Me too. Is that why you wanted to take me here? To reminisce?”
He makes a noise in his throat. “This isn’t where I was taking you. We’re not there yet.”
I furrow my brow, glancing around. The layout of the neighbourhood is too different now for me to recognize how far we’ve wandered.
“If you forgot our place, I’m going to leave you here alone and go back to the hotel,” he grumbles.
And then I’m grinning at him, my stomach tumbling. “It’s still here? I just assumed they tore it down when they started rebuilding the neighbourhood.”
He grunts. “Over my dead body.”
My pace quickens. His dark laugh twirls in the night air as I move ahead of him, watching him over my shoulder. I probably look ridiculous. I’m far too old to be skipping along the road searching for a place I thought would have been long gone by now, but I couldn’t care less. I hope the people who live here watch their driveway camera footage tomorrow and laugh.
“Don’t tell me you threatened them to make them leave it alone.”
“I didn’t threaten them.”
“So, they just left it alone all on their own? In the midst of completely redoing the neighbourhood?”
“Guess so.”
I spin to face him fully, walking backward. “You’re lying to me, Noah Hutton.”
He shrugs one shoulder with a coy nonchalance. I blow out a frustrated breath and stop on the street so suddenly he nearly collides with me. My hands shoot out in front of me and meet the thick wall of his chest in an attempt to keep us from hurting ourselves. Amusement dances in his eyes as he stares down at me, revealing the playfulness inside of him that’s been trapped down and hidden for so damn long.
“Prove it, Tinsley Lowry,” he dares, the words sounding dirty and rough. A shiver travels down my spine. Is that how he would be in bed? Filthy? Not afraid to make me scream?
I force a shaky laugh into the night. “My full name is such a mouthful. Please never use it again.”
The arching of his brow is enough to tell me that he isn’t oblivious to my subject change. Thankfully, he doesn’t push it. He takes a step back and nods to the alley on our left, tucked between the last house on this street and a corner store. The street lights don’t reach past the first few feet of the gravelled alleyway, making it nearly pitch-black. I retreat to his side and straighten my back, putting on a brave face.
“Scared?” he asks.
I scoff. “As if. It’s just been a while since we’ve been there. I don’t know what kind of beasts you’ve stored in the shadows since we’ve been gone.”
“None that would harm you, Golden Girl.” He presses a hand to the centre of my back, fingers softly tracing my spine as he adds, “They’d bow to you, just like I would.”
I lean into his touch. It’s impossible not to. It strokes something inside of me, something carnal. Savage.
“It’s not hard to believe you’re a songwriter,” I breathe, watching the shadows in the alley, waiting for something to crawl out of them.
“No?”
I shake my head, a blasting sensation of need growing hot in my gut. His fingers strum a rhythm on my spine, a silent song filling the air.
“You say things that only a writer could. Such simple words but ones that carry heavy meaning. It’s just . . . natural for you. It’s how your brain works.”
“My brain is a mess.”
“A mess of beautiful words.”
He grips my waist and settles at my back, thighs cupping my ass. Knuckles stroke down my spine, the silent strum disappearing. His touch is controlled, the burn of it seeping so deep within me I feel him light my soul on fire, the flames roaring out of control. I want more. And more and more. All of it. No fear, no worry.No interruptions.
Show me the beast.
Let me see if I can handle it.
“Tinsley.” My name is a warning and a promise.
