I raised my head, my insides shrinking. “I’m scaring you.”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“Yes,” she finally said. “Yes, you scare me. But I like it. I’m just…”
“Just what?”
“I’m just…” She paused, breathing erratically. “Just jealous.”
“Why?”
“Because you hunted her.” Her pale forehead leaned into the screen, and I caught a few strands of rich, dark hair. “Maybe I shouldn’t let you see me just yet. Maybe I should let you hunt me, too. Sounds like you’re good at it.”
I leaned back up, a smile tugging my lips. I was no longer embarrassed. Keeping my eyes on her, I pulled my keys out of my pocket and stuck the sharp one to my car into one of the holes of the wicker screen. Before she even had time to rear back, I tugged the key downward, ripped a slit in the screen, and pushed my hand through, catching her shirt in my fist just as she tried to escape. I pulled her forward and leaned in, smelling the wind on her skin and feeling how small and light she was. I barely flexed a muscle, holding her.
“What makes you think I haven’t been doing that this whole time?” I teased. “Do you think that little story is as naughty as I can get? Should I tell you about last summer and running into my former babysitter one night who was home from med school? She liked how I’d grown up.”
She breathed in hard, shallow breaths, and her hands came up, clasping mine. “Yes.”
I narrowed my eyes, releasing her sweatshirt and, instead, raising my hand to her face. At my touch, she shivered, but she didn’t back away.
The smooth skin felt like water as I grazed my fingertips over her sharp jaw and up her cheek. I drifted past her delicate ear lobe and into her hair, deciphering the softness and the length she hid. Fabric brushed against the back of my hand, and I realized she was wearing a hood.
Her hair was tucked behind her, and everything was chilled. Her face, her hands, her hair…even her ear felt like an icicle.
“You’re so cold,” I said.
But she turned her face into my hand, her hot breath falling into my palm. “I don’t feel cold.”
Her lips barely touched my hand, and I wanted to go the extra centimeter—reach closer and touch them, but I didn’t. She wasn’t getting away from me, and I wanted to drag this out. Sliding my hand around the back of her neck, I held her and grazed my thumb down the front of her throat, feeling her swallow.
She was so still, as if she were really afraid. A sound broke from somewhere in the church, and I briefly registered a basketball bouncing. After years on the court, I knew the sound like it was my mother’s voice.
“It’s Devil’s Night, and the night is young,” she finally spoke up. “Maybe you’ll find someone else to scare tonight.”
I tightened my grip. “And if I want to scare you?”
I felt her body shake with a laugh. “Then maybe I’ll be around,” she said playfully, pulling away. “Happy Hunting.”
And I heard a shuffle and saw light pour into her little room before the door slammed shut, making it dark again.
“Hey.” I pulled my hand back in. “Hey!”
I stood up and threw open the curtain, walking out and looking around before opening the door. The priest’s chamber was empty. I whipped around and scanned the church, noticing only a few people in the pews, none looking like a teenage girl. Walking over to the row of columns near the windows, I looked around them, not seeing anyone there, either.
“What the hell?” Where did she go?
The bouncing sound registered again, and I looked up, seeing Damon round the last row of pews and walk toward me. He must’ve just finished up with Beir.
“What’s goin’ on?” he asked through the unlit cigarette in his mouth.
I straightened and closed my mouth, trying to breathe slower. “Nothing.”
I had no idea how to start explaining what just happened. Plus, it wasn’t wise to put a girl on his radar if you planned on keeping her to yourself. At least, at first.
Holding the ball at his side, he leaned down and lit his cigarette using one of the prayer candles.