12 /SHADOWS OF THE NIGHT
PAT BENATAR
// NOV 08, 12:00 AM - THE ASTOR CLOCKHOUSE - ASTOR PLACE, NYC //
The elevator seals shut behind us with a ding.
The hallway stretches out on both ends,
quiet, empty,
and the feeling of someone's watching
creeps across my skin.
Andrew’s looking down at me,
my last sentence sitting in his head,
deciding if it’s worth dealing with
or easier to pretend he missed it.
Then he raises his brows
and holds out his hand like?—
don’t run yet.
We haven’t even gotten to the good part.
I take it, knowing it’s going to hurt later.
Then we move down the hall,
and I catch every glance he throws over his shoulder,
every flex of his jaw,
every step he keeps quiet?—
not guilty nor innocent.
“You sure we’re allowed up here?” I whisper. “This feels like we're about to do something illegal. You trying to get me locked up or what?”
He tosses a grin at me.
The slow, sexy one—all fuck-boy foreplay.
“I got you, aight?” he says,
squeezing my hand.
His words make my heart spin like vinyl.
Faster.
Faster.
