Nightfall (Devil's Night #4) - Penelope Douglas Page 0,83

I was supposed to go to college, I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t leave her with him, and I’d have to stay here.

I hated myself for that thought, but…

While I didn’t want her to go, I needed to get out of here.

What the hell was I going to do?

I hugged myself in my cardigan, only wearing my sleep shorts and tank top underneath, and turned around to close my curtains.

But someone sat there, in the corner of my room in my chair.

I gasped, jumping back.

“Hey,” Will said.

My eyes widened, and I breathed hard, my heart still lodged in my throat. “What the hell?” I dashed to my window, plastering my cheek to the pane to get a view of the driveway and make sure my brother was gone.

“No candle in your window tonight?” he asked.

But I wasn’t listening. “Are you insane?”

I scanned as much of the street as I could see through the tree outside, but I didn’t see Will’s truck. Hopefully, he’d parked it far away.

How the hell did he get in here? My brother just left. He could’ve seen him.

“You have to light a candle, Emmy.”

“I never light a candle!” I growled in a whisper so my grandma wouldn’t hear. “I don’t give a shit about EverNight. You have to leave.”

He sat there, wearing jeans and an Army green T-shirt that brought out the color of his eyes even from here. His hair was relaxed, the gel from the day about gone and laying across his temples so beautifully.

“What did I say?” he said in a low voice. “If you don’t come to me, I’ll come to you.”

So I didn’t show up down at the end of the block. As important as a Mission: Impossible marathon was, I had other things to do, and he neglected to ask if I was free tonight.

He stared up at me, his arms resting on the chair, and I forced a scowl, despite the shot of excitement through my body at seeing him.

“I can’t believe Emory Scott has a poster of Sid and Nancy on her wall,” he joked. “A couple of obnoxious junkies, one who could barely even play his guitar.”

“Please,” I asked, ignoring his teasing. “You can’t be here.”

He rose slowly, never taking his eyes off mine. “Or maybe you have a thing for doomed romances.”

I stepped back as he stepped forward. “Just leave,” I told him again.

But he kept coming. “You’re so pretty,” he whispered.

I shook my head, curling my fingers into fists.

“But I’m getting really tired of you looking at me like that,” he said, his expression suddenly serious. “Like I can’t be trusted.”

Well, could he? And even if I could trust him to have good intentions with me, I wasn’t ready for this. I didn’t want him involved in my life. I was doing him a favor.

I loved the theater, and I’d treasure the memory forever.

But Damon was right. Yesterday was fun. We were done.

“You need to leave,” I said again.

His eyes sharpened on me. “And I’m getting really fucking tired of you saying that.” His jaw flexed. “What’s the problem? Yesterday was amazing. Why do you always have to think so much until you’ve twisted something that was good into something bad?”

“I don’t owe you anything,” I bit out, “and I didn’t invite you in, so just leave! Get out.”

He stopped, the glare in his eyes almost as heart-stopping as his smile. “You know, I was nicer to you than I had to be.” He squared his shoulders. “You know how many girls I can get like that?”

He snapped his fingers, and the funny, laidback, sweet protector from the last several days was gone.

Believe me, I was well aware that he could get any piece of ass he wanted and had already. I wasn’t the first to touch or kiss him.

“Well, I should just thank my lucky stars that all my relentless, hard work following you around like a pathetic puppy just to get your attention actually paid off!” I yelled, calling him out fucking good.

He chased me! Not the other way around.

He took a step toward me but then someone called my name, and he stopped, both of us glowering at each other.

My blood boiled, and I could see his neck glowing with a light layer of sweat already.

Everything was hot. It was dark, we were close, and my bed was right there.

My clit throbbed once, and I stopped breathing.

“Emmy,” a small voice called again.

I blinked, releasing the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

“Emmy?” my