I watch from below as she walks to the telescope, letting out a big, contented sigh when she leans in. Again, as if they have a mind of their own, my legs take me up the stairs, ascending each step one by one until I’m on the platform with her.
People don’t usually run into each other this many times outside their normal schedules. It’s as if something is pushing, despite all the elements of our lives that should repel us, and I can’t make myself stay away.
Fuck, I know I should. I know being alone with her right now is a mistake, considering the staff meeting I just left.
But I don’t care anymore.
All I want is for her to touch me, and I want to fucking touch her.
After a near decade of shying away from the slightest caress or feeling disgust and shame whenever someone showed interest, this desire feels too significant to just ignore.
Even though I’m endangering her by getting this close, knowing Death’s Teeth is watching and waiting for some fuckup. Knowing they’d love the excuse to drag her into our world and shatter hers.
Everything is so goddamn convoluted that the only piece I can focus on is the want.
The need. The absolute desperation.
“What’s with you and sneaking up on unsuspecting women?” she asks, sensing me before I announce myself. She doesn’t pull back from the telescope, just lifts her brows over the equipment and smirks.
“Boy Scouts are drawn to damsels in distress,” I reply, shoving my cold hands into my pockets. “It’s in our nature.”
“Do I look like I’m in distress?”
“Well, you’re breaking and entering again, so I can only assume something is wrong.”
Elle turns, facing me. “Actually, my sister let me in, so no breaking required.” She pauses, wincing. “But… Don’t tell anyone please? I don’t want to get her in trouble.”
“Ah, so you do care when people’s careers are in jeopardy.”
“Didn’t we already establish you were greatly exaggerating?”
“As if I needed to say it out loud. You saw through it instantly.”
“Well, yeah, you came in your pants once when I dry humped you. I think that makes it pretty clear how you feel about me.”
“Wait.” I hold up a hand, frowning. “Who said anything about feelings?”
She makes a face, playfully pushing at my shoulder. “Anyway, that was one of the rules my parents had, actually.”
“Rules?”
“For coming here. They encouraged me to enroll, but they said if I caused Q any problems, they’d pull all of us out.”
“Would they see me as a problem?”
“Definitely. My dad has never liked any of the people I’ve brought home.”
“Is that something you’re considering doing?” I ask, moving behind her. My hands find her hips, and I revel in the soft gasp she elicits as I press into her. “Bringing me home to meet your parents?”
She laughs. “God, no.”
“Rude.”
“Trust me, I’m doing you a favor. My mom would eat you alive.”
“I thought you said your father was the one to avoid.”
“He is, but my mom would never let you leave. She’d want your entire life story, pictures of you as a kid, pictures of your parents, character references. Then she’d call her friends over to gossip right in front of you at supper and would probably try to get you to commit a crime just to see how you’d react under the pressure.”
