“Bleib.”
He stops, but his eyes track me, his tail low between his legs.
“Not tonight, buddy. You stay here.”
He lets out a huff and sinks back down, Virgil squeaking when he rests his chin on top.
I don’t know how long I walk. Long enough for the beer to go warm in my stomach and the cold to eat through the leather of my jacket. The trails back here connect to everything: Lovers’ Alcove. Upside Down Rock. All the places I go when I need to disappear.
Tonight, I just need to walk until my brain shuts up.
My boots crunch against the leaves, and the rhythm of it quiets the noise in my head.
Then I hear it. Footsteps. Fast and uneven, the sound of someone running.
Every muscle in my body goes taut.
She bursts through the tree line maybe fifty yards ahead, stumbling over roots, flashlight beam swinging wildly.
Genevieve.
What the fuck?
I’m already moving toward her when I see the second figure, maybe thirty yards back, moving fast but not running, like he doesn’t need to rush.
I don’t think; I just cut through the trees at an angle, closing the distance as fast as I can. She doesn’t see me. My hand closes around her arm and I yank her sideways, off the trail and behind a massive oak, clamping my other palm over her mouth before she can scream.
She thrashes against me, so I pull her tight against my chest.
“It’s me,” I breathe into her ear. “Genevieve, stop. It’s me.”
She goes rigid.
Her back is pressed flush against my front, her head barely reaching my chest, and her heart is hammering so hard I can feel it through her jacket. She’s shaking, her fingers digging into my forearm like she’s not sure if she should claw me off or hold on tighter.
And despite everything—the adrenaline, the person stalking her, the fact that she’sArt’sand I just spent the night telling myself to stop—I notice every inch of where we’re touching. The curve of her spine against my torso. The soft give of her waist under my arm. Her scent wrapping around me until I can’t breathe anything but her.
Through the trees, her pursuer slows to a stop, his head swiveling.
I don’t move, and my arms tighten around her.
“Shh. I won’t let him get to you.”
She gives a soft nod, her lips pressing into my palm.
Neither of us take a breath.
Eventually, the footsteps start again, moving away from us, and the man disappears into the dark.
Chapter 17
Genevieve
All I smell is leather and campfire. For minutes, or hours, maybe, until finally he lets me go.
“What are you doing out here?”
His eyes are dark, glittering in the moonlight. “I could ask you the same thing.”
