His hot breath fell across my fingers, and my whole body warmed. Was he looking at my face, too? Into my eyes? What was he thinking?
“I wish I could see you for real,” I told him. “I want to know what you look like when you look at me.”
He remained silent, and embarrassment burned across my skin. I shook it off, moving on.
“No piercings,” I added. “On your head anyway.”
His upper lip tilted up, and I half-smiled. “And he smirks,” I teased.
Of course, I didn’t need to feel his mischievous smile to know he was a bad boy, but it comforted me to know he had a sense of humor.
“Your neck…” I grazed my fingertips down his smooth skin and throat.
“What about it?”
I leaned in, surprising myself as I pressed my cheek into the skin there. He didn’t move a muscle.
“It’s warm,” I remarked. “Smooth.”
And the house was cold.
I inhaled, smelling his soap and shampoo, far too fragrant to be hours old.
“You just showered,” I guessed.
Pulling up, I took a step closer, holding his head right in front of me and sliding my fingers back into his hair.
“Tall, dark, young,” I commented on what I knew about so far. “Good personal hygiene, likes to fight, long eyelashes, kind of a pretty boy, I’m thinking…”
He snorted, and I smiled, too, but then my fingers grazed something on his scalp but before I could figure out what it was, I felt another one. My face fell, contemplating the raised pieces of skin. As I examined the rest of his scalp, I found several others. All about a quarter inch long.
Scars.
“I fell,” he said again, not waiting for me to ask the question.
I clenched my teeth for a moment. “That’s a lot of falls,” I said. “Do you have those anywhere else?”
“You wanna check the rest of my body?” he asked, sounding cocky.
I dropped my hand, trying not to roll my eyes. Thanks for the offer.
“How old are you?” I asked.
But his guard stayed up when he replied, “Older than you.”
What was he doing here? Really? Was he just a prankster, pulling another joke for Devil’s Night, or did he actually have more sinister intentions when he broke in a week ago, before he saw me dance and got suddenly smitten? What would happen if I refused to dance again? What did he really want?
“What’s one thing you’ll never be able to do but really want to?” he asked.
I nearly laughed. One thing?
“Are you kidding?” I shot back. “I have a whole list.”
“Just tell me one.”
I pondered it for a moment, thinking about how I missed all the things I would never see again. Films, plays, mountains, trees, waterfalls, dresses, shoes, the faces of my family and friends… I didn’t know what it was like to leave the house alone or do simple things like go hiking or for a stroll in the woods by myself. I would never be able to escape, run away, or experience the freedom of a spontaneous getaway all by myself without anyone knowing or being there to h
elp me.