Touching her always fills me with a weird feeling. Something otherworldly.
It’s an obsession.
I breathe in the scent of her hair and skin, memorizing them.
As I hold her close, I can feel my desire stirring. She’s so beautiful and perfect. Every time I look at her, I can’t help but want her. She stirs in her sleep, and I know she’s dreaming. I wonder what haunts her.
I close my eyes and savor the feel of her against me, her warmth seeping into my skin. I can’t help myself and move closer until my lips touch the exposed skin beneath her hair.
I want to kiss her neck softly, tease her with my lips and tongue. She must sense me because she stirs in response, a small moan escaping her lips.
“Gideon,” she mutters sleepily, “you’re touching me again.”
“Mmm,” I murmur, continuing to hold her. “I don’t want to let you go.”
“Gideon…”
“Just pretend you don’t hate me for a few seconds longer.”
“I don’t hate you,” she whispers.
“You do, and that’s okay.” My lips slide against her skin. She takes a deep breath. One that makes me think she’s fighting a battle within herself, and then she shifts and moves back to her own side of the bed. Even though she’s still close, it feels like a million miles away.
The distance between us is unbearable.
29
SASHA
A week has passed,and still practicing feels like I’m pulling teeth.
“Why doesn’t it get easier?” My gaze finds the blue light taunting me from the ceiling. “I can’t play.”
This is what my life has become: talking to a smoke detector.
“I think it’s your fault. I can see the blue light. I know you’re watching. It’s kind of creepy.” I stick my tongue out. “Fine. I’ll try again.”
Placing my instrument in the correct position, I grab my bow, determined to do this.
But fate has different plans for me as a knock on my door has me looking up.
Placing my cello and bow down, I walk over to the door and am met with blue eyes staring back at me from across the threshold.
“Hello, firefly.”
“Hi.” I transfer my weight from side to side, unsure of what he’s doing here. Normally, he leaves me alone during the day. Maybe he heard me tell the smoke detector how bored I was again.
Or maybe he heard me confess to needing someone to talk to.
“Come on, no more sulking. I have someone I want you to meet,” he says, and this piques my interest. I’ve been alone for so long that I’m shocked he wants me to meet someone.
Especially after the arctic breeze his staff has been giving me.
Yep. It hasn’t gone unnoticed that other than the one creepy guard, no one on his staff will talk to me.
“Bring your cello.”
Now I’m really confused.