Dark Child (Wild Men 5)

I glance at the speakers, rake a hand through my hair. Shrug. “Okay, you’re right. It is constant. I guess it… keeps the world… at a distance. Keeps it quiet.”

“Why would you want to keep the world at a distance? And what do you mean, to keep it quiet?”

I frown, tug on my hair, causing pinpricks of pain in my scalp. “I’m… not sure.” Tug and release, tug and release. “It doesn’t matter.”

A scream. That eye staring at me. A bass male voice. Footsteps after me, pounding heavily on the ground. Blood spreading. Darkness falling.

Fuck.

“Enough talking about me. Tell me about yourself.” I push the wine away and step between her legs. “Are you in town for a while? Do you live here?”

“I don’t…” She gasps when I run my thumb over her lips. “Don’t live here. I live in Springfield.”

I drag my thumb along the smoothness of her cheek. Like silk. “Why?”

“Why what?” She sounds breathless. Her lips are parted.

“Why don’t you live here? Do your parents live in Springfield?”

“No, no, Dad lives in Nashville, and Mom…” A flash of pain goes through her eyes. “She lives in San Diego now and keeps trying to get me to move there. My friend Lin lives in Springfield.”

“And you followed her.”

A tiny shrug. She leans into my touch lightly. “My sister had left town, too. We actually grew up here. But she followed a guy she was in love with, and I just kind of…” A shiver. “Kind of drifted.”

“Okay.”

“Sophie didn’t finish school. I didn’t either. We both got our GED later. She just…”

“It’s okay.” Her sister is a tough topic for her to touch. It’s plain to see, and I didn’t mean to make her sad. “So you’re going back to Springfield? Guess what I’m asking is… Will I see you more, or will I be talking to your sister instead and scaring her with my sexual innuendos?”

She laughs. The tension breaks. “To be honest, I’ve been thinking.”

“What about?”

“About getting a job here. Staying here. Not because of you,” she hurries to add, cheeks reddening.

“Of course not,” I say lightly, though my heart is thumping hard, and a little sting of disappointment pricks me.

Jesus, of course not. She barely knows me.

“That leads me to another important question,” I say, making my voice grave, sliding my hand to her neck.

“What is it?” Dark eyes meet mine, worried.

“Are you sure? Is it my turn to ask?”

“What?” She stares at me. “Ask what?”

“Who are you in a dream relationship with?” I stroke over the rapid pulse of a fine vein under the skin. “I saw your profile status on Facebook.”

Her pulse spikes, her dark lashes sweep down even as a smile curves her lips. “It’s complicated.”

“It always is. Look, I don’t wanna stand in the way of your cat and dream boyfriend, but…”

She snickers delicately. “But what?”

“But I swear to hell I will. Whoever he is, no offense.” I’d meant this as a joke, to diffuse the rest of the tension, but I find my back stiffening, my hackles rising. “Only I get to hold you, and kiss you, and… fuck…”