Some days, we were perfectly in tune—our communication effortless and easy. Others, we spoke the same language, but the message was all scrambled. I’d get on edge, and she’d get snappy, and neither of us could stop the secrets slowly driving us apart.
* * * * *
Halloween.
Just like we’d never celebrated Christmas until the Wilsons, we hadn’t celebrated Halloween.
In the town where the Wilsons lived, it wasn’t a huge thing, and Della wasn’t interested in dressing up and door knocking on strangers. Mostly because I practically hyperventilated at the thought of her putting herself in such danger.
Humans were never to be trusted even on nights when it was acceptable to dress up like ghouls and witches and ask for candy.
This year, she wasn’t a little kid with a plastic pumpkin bucket ready for sugar. This year, she was sixteen and had used her own income earned from the florist to hire a Victorian outfit with a dress that ballooned with skirts and lace, taking up the entire floor in our lounge.
The pearl-beaded corset was tight and pushed up her breasts, barely covering her nipples and revealing acres of white, perfect flesh. She’d coiled her blonde hair until the messy curls turned into corkscrews, piled on top of her head and tumbling down around her face.
Her navy satin gloves reflected the light from above as she waved an oriental-painted fan, and the baby blue material of her gown coupled with the cream bodice and Victorian lace made her eyes pop in a way that looked almost ethereal.
I might love Della unconditionally with no impropriety of lust or denial.
But that night, I struggled to see her as out of bounds. It didn’t matter my body prickled or my heart pounded. I battled to remind myself that the stunning creature in finery wasn’t some woman I desperately wanted to kiss, but a girl I would forever protect.
Even if it meant protecting her from myself.
“What do you think?” She spun in place, knocking over an empty water glass from the coffee table onto the threadbare carpet. It didn’t break, but my stiff rules threatened to.
She was far too lovely, and everything inside begged to mess her up so other men didn’t see how incredible she was.
I swallowed to lubricate my throat. “It’s nice.”
“Nice?” She blew away a curl that’d gotten caught on a fake eyelash—thick black frames around the most incredible eyes. “Just nice?” Her shoulders slouched a little. “I was hoping for more than nice. It was my entire week’s salary. I should’ve rented a cheap stripper outfit for ten bucks.”
My belly turned to a rock at the mention of a stripper.
No way in hell would that ever happen.
She looked at the ceiling with a huff. “Now I just feel like an idiot for spending so much when I should’ve given it to you to pay the elec—”
“Stop it.” I stood from where I was sprawled on the couch. My hands tingled as I dared place them on her bare, glitter-dusted shoulders. “It’s a hundred times better than nice.” I squeezed her gently, ignoring the kick in my gut. “Believe me. You’ll kill every boy there with a single stare.”
Her charcoal-shadowed eyes studied mine, her lips parted as if searching to see if she’d killed me just like I’d promised.
And she had. She definitely had.
But I refused to let her see it.
It was better that way…for both of us.
Squeezing her again, I dropped my hands with a forced chuckle. “You’re far too beautiful to go out.”
She sighed as if aggravated at something I’d done but then covered it up with a giggle. “Well, I am going out. You can’t ground me. Not tonight.”
“In that case, I’m going to hog the couch and watch something gory. I’m looking forward to the peace and quiet.” I stretched, reaching for the ceiling and working out the kinks in my spine. My grey t-shirt rode up my belly, drawing her gaze to my naked skin just above my belt.
She licked her lips, and my heart switched from nervous thrumming to out of control pounding.
The entire lounge filled with wildfire. The air crackled with lightning bolts just waiting to strike. My body hardened in ways it never should around Della. But I couldn’t stop it. Every inch of me turned into a tuning fork, humming for something, begging for anything.
She sucked in a shallow breath as her eyes once again found mine. Only this time, they were hooded and darker, older and dangerous.
The invitation.
The truth.
Shit.
It was pure fucking hunger and it tore out my insides with how deeply she was starving.
For me? For sex? For anyone willing to offer pleasure?
I stepped back, combating the heavy pull to go to her, to touch her, to do things I never dared—
Knock, knock, knock.
The moment shattered as someone’s fist announced guests waited outside our front door.