I stroll to the dresser.
A picture of us together last year at the Halloween carnival. I wore a schoolgirl outfit with pigtails and knee-high socks, and he wore a Jason Voorhees mask with torn jeans. We look like a happy couple, but that will never be us.
Goosebumps break out on my skin.
The same carnival where Lyrical was attacked by Savannah. I don’t know what happened to Savannah. She went missing—and that was it. She disappeared and was wiped away like she never existed. I have an eerie feeling that Snow killed her.
I suspect the American Gods kill people. If Irvin killed people, it wouldn’t shock me, which makes my need to stay away from him grow. But for some reason, I can’t stay away from him, no matter how hard I try.
I spot a plate of food wrapped in foil. I unfold it and smell the grilled scallops and baked potato.
I dig into the food. The meat tastes poached and lemony, and the potato melts in my mouth. I forgot to eat today, my parents’ death eating at me instead.
I’ll never get close to anyone. I shouldn’t be here in the first place. I don’t deserve to be loved by any man.
As soon as I finish the meal, I set the plate on the nightstand.
I glance at my phone again, and it’s thirty minutes until I’m supposed to be meeting Irvin, so that gives me enough time to snoop through his things.
I drift to the walk-in closet and study the dark wood panels. The drawer is made of real wood, and a picture of me is taped to his floor mirror. I explore his drawers and find nothing but underwear and socks.
Where did he hide the weed? I know it’s here somewhere.
“Looking for something, princess?” His tone is husky.
I turn around as my breath hitches and my pulse throbs.
Irvin hovers in the doorway, arms folded across his chest, a smile blooming across his face.
I place my hand over my chest and smile back at him.
He’s shirtless, displaying his abs. I want to trail my fingers across his smooth skin, but I refrain from doing so.
My gaze drinks in the V-cut that disappears below his navy jeans.
Ink covers his chest, arms, and face. The wordsadis ingrained under his left eye, next to a lilac flower on the side, which wasn’t there the last time I saw him. Why would he mark himself with the plant that shares my name?
It’s kind of hot… and creepy.
“Why did you get a lilac flower tattooed on your face?” I question.
He looks more like a bad boy than a rich person, and he reeks of power. His silver hair is spiked. He’s fine as fuck.
He drifts closer to me, and his presence sucks me in like a vacuum.
I still remember the way he felt between my legs—raw, full, and huge. And I crave him right now. He’s the only man who can bring me to my knees.
With his palms cradling my face, he strokes his calloused thumb over my cheek as he flashes me his pearly whites.
“I asked you a question, princess. Why are you going through my stuff?”
I feel my cheeks flush. My eyes dart to the midnight marble floor, then back up at him. My teeth sink into my soft bottom lip, biting back a moan.
“I was looking for you.”
“You going through my stuff is looking for me?” He strokes his knuckles across my cheek. “I’ve missed you this winter break. You didn’t return any of my calls.” He caresses his fingers through my relaxed lavender hair. “As my girlfriend, you can’t ignore me.”
My cheeks burn hotter than the sun.
