But my own father won’t help me. What am I supposed to do? This is not meant to be my life.
And so I let it go. Just for now. Just for tonight.
I don’t think about anything but Sloane and the way she smells and how she feels and tonight, her in the king sized bed at our hotel room and how we’ll both fall deeper and it’ll hurt worse when it’s over.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE
SLOANE
Ashadow moves along the balcony.
My breath catches and I fling back the plush white covers on the bed and swing my legs around, then plant my feet on the floor. The balcony curtains are gauzy and milky gray, a sconce light affixed to the wall outside—I noticed it earlier during my cursory inspection of our suite. The sliding glass doors are closed, the scenic view of the hedge maze and gardens and fountains and pool beyond are gorgeous.
But there was a person-shaped shadow.
My pulse thuds quick in my chest and I glance over my shoulder and down the hall, where the bathroom door is closed, the light on inside. Storm is in the shower; after being on our feet for hours and a midnight walk to the food truck outside the venue for shrimp tacos, I was ready to come back here. We agreed we’d head down to the hotel bar if we wished, but there was vodka and mixers in the mini fridge and Storm poured us both a drink after he got ice in the golden pail meant for it.
I showered first and my hair is still wavy and damp down my back. My feet are bare, and the only thing I’m wearing is a lilac night dress with thin straps topped with black silk bows.
I glance at the solid wood nightstand on Storm’s side of the bed. My heart gallops again and this isn’t because of the shadow.
We’ve slept together, but only in the literal sense.
Tonight, though, the alcohol and his arms around my waist at the concert and the way he didn’t let me go for more than a minute all night is floating around my brain and I want to do so much more than kiss him.
It surprises me that we haven’t. Most boys move fast, I’ve noticed.
But maybe it’s the men who don’t.
My eyes find the gun though, still in its holster, the black buckles and loops themselves are intimidating, and that’s nothing to the dark barrel of the gun they contain.
He took it off while staring at me.
By that time, the glass cup in my hands had melted my reservations. Now my drink is gone, set on the dresser, but I may need another one if he plans to leave that beside our bed all night.
The shadow falls over the white sheets, the maroon walls.
I whip my head around, my mouth dry.
The balcony door is locked, and all I see now is the glow from the porch light, and the night sky beyond.
I stand anyway and take a deep breath in. A slow one out.
Who is it?
But no one could be out there.
They’d have to come through here first. We’re on the seventh floor.
I inspected every inch of this suite when we checked in; I’ve never been in a hotel this nice. My parents gave up on taking us to many vacations when all they ever seemed to do was fight and scream no matter where we were or how beautiful it was around us.
It was hell inside.
But…
I lift my chin as a cold chill slides down my spine.
