“Did I scream?”
Victor raises his eyebrows. “No screams, but your breathing was very erratic.”
Even with a hazy brain, I realize Victor was listening to my breathing from his room.
“Thank you for waking me up before I started screaming.” It must be late. “I don’t want to wake Alek.”
Victor frowns. “The screaming and the nightmares are a regular occurrence?” His voice trembles at the end.
I nod. I glance at the open bedroom door for signs of Alek moving, but nothing.
Victor sits at the side of my bed just like the night before.
“We’ll have to find a long-term solution for the nightmares.”
I have one—to run away.
As if Victor reads my mind, he frowns and some emotion passes quickly on his face. He cocks his head to the side.
“You’re safe here. I’m here. Your brother is here. And if you join Abi’s sorority, you’ll have another twenty girls who’ll protect you.” He flashes me a naughty-boy smile that will linger in my mind for a while.
But I’m not safe. I shake my head. If Charlie finds out where I am, he’ll allocate all of his resources—money, people, maybe even the police—to snatch me.
I appreciate Victor trying to keep the mood light, but I’m bothered he’s been eavesdropping on my convo with Abi. She invited me to join her sorority. Wasn’t he taking a shower? I can’t keep track of his superpowers.
Victor reaches with a shaky hand, runs his fingers through my hair, and brushes it away from my neck. He murmurs something under his breath that sounds like “silky curls.” And I let out a satisfied sigh.
“Don’t move.”
Without much of an explanation, Victor leans down and kisses the scratch mark.
Ohmigod.
My body tenses, but only for a second. His smooth lips linger at the spot for longer than necessary. The scratch doesn’t hurt anymore, but the jolt of electricity Victor’s touch sends with his kiss travels to my heart and shocks it. The shock turns into pure lust. And the lust becomes an overwhelming desire I know is bad for me.
Unbidden, my hand flies to his chest. His impressive muscles tremor and his heart jackhammers against my hand. Thank God I stop myself from grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer toward me.
Old Spice fades as his head lifts. Our eyes lock for a moment. Maybe in another life, in another world, I could get careless with Victor and let my body run wild. Because that’s how he makes me feel. Wild, excited, and peaceful all at the same time.
“What music are you listening to?” He carries on a conversation as if his lips just didn’t make sizzling contact with my skin.
He takes the earbud out. No music is playing from my cell phone. The playlist must have finished when I had fallen asleep.
He reads the playlist name off the screen. “Easy pop. I like it.”
“I like music that has nice lyrics that speak to me. I listen to music for the lyrics.”
“I’ll find a song for you to listen to while you fall asleep.”
“Oh, that’s a bad idea. I don’t want to dream again.” I frown.
“You won’t have a nightmare. I promise.”
How can he make a promise like that? Is he a prophet or just too confident? He places the headphones back in my ears, and the soft sounds of another familiar song start playing. It’s “Vienna” by Declan Donovan. The singer’s voice is sad, singing about someone who took a piece of him when she left, but he proclaims he’ll chase her until the end of the world.
This is the second time Victor has chosen a song for me. Is this how he communicates?
His face is so perfect and tortured at the same time—as if he’s experienced a lot of hardship and his body has hardened on the outside with rippling muscles, but on the inside he’s soft and gentle.
