Something flashes on Duke’s face, like he’s reliving the memory. Like he’s been reliving it ever since it happened. I know that look.
“Because I wanted to.”
“You wanted to kiss Sky, your arch-nemesis.”
He scoffs. “Yeah. She’s that, isn’t she?” He thumps his head on the headrest. “Has she always been this crazy?”
Despite myself, I smile. “You mean, bloodthirsty? Yeah.”
“Why?” He sounds so perplexed, like he has no idea when their enmity started. Like he’s forgotten years of him trying to get her into trouble.
“Well, if you’re asking why she wants to kill you, I think you already know the answer. But if you’re asking in general, then I’d say…” I think about it. “Skylar Davis aka Sky aka my best friend wants to change the world. She hates it that her mom’s a maid and people like you look down on her because of that.”
“But Sky is a maid. She can’t change that. You can’t change who you are, who you’re supposed to be.”
“No, Duke. Sky isn’t a maid. Her mom is. And there’s nothing wrong with it, by the way.” I shake my head. “I’m starting to think that maybe she should change the world. Because the world is full of assholes like you.”
His chuckle echoes in the leathered confines of the car. “Ah. Evie Hart said a bad word. I’m guessing that’s your boyfriend’s doing.”
“My boyfriend is worth ten guys like you. In fact, my Abel is better than this entire town.”
Duke smirks. “Then you shouldn’t be wasting your time chatting with me. You should go on up.”
“What’s the catch?”
“No catch.”
“Really? You really want me to believe that?”
He nods. “Look, consider this my good deed. I fucked things up for you, so now I’m sort of making things right. Besides, no offense but I don’t wanna spend my evening with a bitchy version of you. So I’ll be back to take you home in time.”
“Ah, Duke Knight said two bad words. I didn’t know you cursed. Sky did though.”
“Sky.” He sighs, long and sort of lonely. “I wonder what she’s up to tonight.”
“Hey, don’t you mess with her. She doesn’t need your crap.”
He chuckles like the devil he is and completely ignores what I just said. “Tick tock, Cinderella. Get going. Time’s running out.”
I don’t remember getting out of Duke’s car or climbing up the rickety stairs that lead up to my boyfriend’s apartment, but I’m standing in front of his door.
It’s white but has patches of yellow on it. The paint is peeling and the brass knob is scratched and scraped. This is the very first time I’m seeing it; I have been so careful to never sneak out to his place lest someone sees me, but tonight I don’t care. By all means, this is a door I wouldn’t look twice at. This is a door that’s shabby, falling apart like these white, discolored walls.
But my Abel lives on the other side.
That’s all that matters to me. I put my hand on the faded, ill-painted wood about to knock, but it wrenches open before I can, making me stumble back a bit.
Abel stands at the threshold with a frown, his chest punching his black t-shirt with every breath he takes. His hair’s all messy, like he’s been sleeping for a decade, but his eyes are bloodshot, suggesting he hasn’t slept at all.
“Pixie?” His voice is rumbly and it’s so good to hear it in person that my entire body sighs. I can’t remember the last time we talked face to face. I’d forgotten the shape of his lips, how they mold around my name, Pixie. As if it’s the most important name he’s ever said or he’ll ever say.
“Abel,” I whisper, smiling even as my eyes feel heavy with all the pent-up emotions.
He’s looking me up and down, flicking his gaze all over my body, and for the first time, I feel like a girl, maybe even a woman. For days at a time, I don’t think about the clothes I’m wearing or the braid that my mom has me do. I don’t feel anything. Not a single thing. The time that I truly feel alive is when his eyes are on me, or when he’s whispering in my ear, at night.
I feel alive now. My heart’s racing in my chest, banging against my ribcage. Every breath I take makes me realize that I’m wearing a dress with a low neckline, not crazy low but lower than what I usually wear, with a tiny hint of cleavage. The sleeves and bodice of my dress are pure lace with flowers and it fits me like a second skin up until my hips. And then, it flares into shiny waves of fabric and reaches a little over my knees.
Does he like it? It’s his favorite color: black. Though I know he likes pink on me more than anything.