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“How about you come inside, and we…”
Penelope takes a step back. “Oh, no. I’m not going inside when you’re like…” She waves her hand in my general direction.
“It was a joke! Besides, I could walk around naked, and you’d be none the wiser.”
That blush spreads down her neck and all over her cleavage. It makes a man wonder how far that color would spread.
“I didn’t realize you were an exhibitionist.”
My brows quirk up. “And you think you know me so well? How so?”
“I don’t. That’s the whole point. C’mon, Henry.” She grabs hold of the harness. “Let’s go home.”
Together they cross the hallway, unlocking the door to her apartment. Merely a few feet separate us, but this moment feels like a lifetime.
“But, what about playing? You said you’d do it.”
Birdy stops in the doorway; her head tilted to the side. “And I will. I’ll meet you in the music room next Tuesday, and I expect you to bring some ideas on what else we can cross off my list.”
“Well, you can cross off saying yes to something since you said yes to me.”
She shakes her head. “That doesn’t count.”
“Why the hell not?”
“It’s my list. My rules.”
“Fine. I’ll find something else for you to say yes to.”
Birdy enters her apartment, her hand holding the door as she faces me. “I’m counting on that.”
With that, she closes the door in my face.
Again.
Well, fine. If she wants to play it that way, I’ll play. But there is no way I’m waiting three freaking days. Just the thought that I’ll get to hear her play has my fingers itching to pick up my guitar.
It’s been so long since I’ve managed to create anything good. Hell, too long since I played for more than a few minutes if that.
She wants me to help her cross something off her list? I guess it’s time to get to work.
I wait until I hear the sound of the key turning before I return to my apartment. I go straight for the living room and the notebook with Birdy’s list written inside when my phone buzzes on the coffee table.
Sighing, I pick it up, expecting another annoying message from Seraphina. Only it’s not.
Unknown:
You can try to hide, but I’ll always find you, Bash. I know what you did, and you’ll pay for it.
My fingers clench around my phone as I re-read the message on the screen, an icy chill running down my spine at the ominous words.
It’s been months since I got the last message. Last May, to be exact. I thought it was over. That whoever it was gave up, but I guess I was wrong after all.
* * *
I’m jogging down the steps, trying to keep my head low so the bright afternoon light doesn’t blind me and make the throbbing headache behind my temples stronger. Not that listening to all the chatter is helping with the pain either. But classes have just wrapped up, and the quad is full of people mingling around, so there is no avoiding it.
Last night, I barely slept. My mind was filled with memories I couldn’t shake off. The need to get up and find some way to silence the demon sitting on my shoulder was strong. I was antsy, my muscles needed to move. I wanted to go out and run, but I wasn’t sure if I did that, I’d be able to steer clear of the temptation. So instead, I stayed in my apartment and paced, the time passing so impossibly slow as the text message played in my head on repeat.
