Landing on my feet, I jogged across the lawn, seeing a few lights her father left on in the house, my gaze immediately locking on the windows of the ballroom and hearing the music from inside. I couldn’t help but smile, knowing she was in there.
I dug out the key she gave me and pulled off my sweatshirt, tossing it behind some bushes, because it was covered in smoke.
Heading around to the backdoor, I unlocked it as quietly as possible and pushed it open, slipping into the dark kitchen and instantly hearing the music playing as loud as she wanted, because no one was home.
I crept down the hallway and through the foyer, veering right, toward the open ballroom doors with the music growing louder and drifting up to the ceiling.
It had a haunting, sad vibe, and my heart started thumping harder even before I entered.
She twirled around the floor, her head and arms all playing a part as her feet moved, creeping with the song, like someone possessed or lost in a dream. My throat swelled as I inched off to the side, in the shadows, not taking my eyes off her.
The chorus chanted, the drums like a pulse, and I watched her hair fly, and the muscles in her legs flex through her tight, black leggings. Slits cut across the back of her long-sleeve pink shirt, her sports bra and skin visible in the moonlight streaming in through the windows.
But I blinked
And the world was gone
The voice sang, the music coursing through her as if it were coming from her body, every movement perfectly timed. I scaled my eyes down her face and form as she spun and leaped, wishing I could be the air around her and feel her move.
My chest ached so badly it hurt to breathe.
There was no one in the world like her.
The music ended, and silence fell in the house as she fell back on her feet, breathing hard. She stayed there, unmoving and quiet.
And finally, her voice pierced the air. “Are you here?”
I didn’t say anything.
“Were you watching?” she asked softly.
I wanted to bring her into my chest and just feel her relax, easing her mind and making her feel safe.
But she’d smell the smoke still on me, which I didn’t hold back on tonight on purpose. I didn’t want to be tempted to come see her.
I did anyway, though. I’d told the guys I was paying a hot, little visit to Mrs. Ashby, knowing they’d love that. None of us liked her husband.
But I just wanted to see Winter.
After what I did to her last night.
“I hate that you don’t talk to me,” she said, still rooted in the same spot but slowly turning in a circle, because she didn’t know where I was. “Like really talk. But I guess it wouldn’t have been like you to still be here this morning.”
No, it wouldn’t have been. After another half-hour in the shower, we’d dried, and I dressed, following her down to her room to lay with her for a while.
When she fell asleep, I stayed.
Still not sleeping.
Until about four a.m., then I snuck out.
And told myself that tonight I’d screw someone else.
And get Winter out of me.
“You are like a ghost,” she mused. “Or a vampire. You’re only alive for me at night.”
She swallowed and inhaled a breath.