Stripped Love (Guys Next Door #1) - Baylin Crow Page 0,79
I let it guide me through the chorus.
To the one I love most, you've become a ghost.
Haunting me with memories—
Steps approaching from the side of the house ripped me away from the song. My head jerked toward the shadow approaching, and then Archer appeared. His pale skin glowed beneath the moonlight, and his unruly locks tangled in the breeze.
I hurriedly crushed my cigarette in the ashtray and tossed the notepad and pencil on the table. Pushing out of the chair, I climbed to my feet. Eyes glued to my own ghost, I watched his every step as he neared. He stopped several feet away, and a shy smile curled his lips. Not shy, I realized when I noticed the slight tremble of his lips.
Archer was nervous, and several scenarios flashed through my thoughts. Had he come to officially break things off, or mend, the fragile crack between us? Maybe he was still undecided, but still, hope swelled in my chest.
"I finished my book," he said and stepped closer, holding it out with an unsteady hand. "I didn't know if you wanted to see it."
Staring into his deep brown eyes, I accepted it, curling my fingers around the spine.
"You know I do." I eased back into my chair that creaked beneath my weight and gestured to the one next to me. "Sit with me?"
Archer blew out a deep breath, and his shoulders, which I hadn't noticed were tense, relaxed as he sat. I inhaled the scent of fresh linen that clung to him, itching to bury my nose in the crook of his neck.
His intense gaze, one I recognized as my own, held want and need. My heart thumped wildly in my chest at the implication, but I was afraid to jump to conclusions. "Arch—"
"Can you read it before we talk?" His eyes lowered as he looked at the concrete between our feet. "Please."
Confused, I still nodded though he couldn't see it. His reason didn't matter. I'd do anything he asked, even if he asked me to walk away. It would shatter me, but I'd do it if it meant he would be happy.
Settling back, I cracked open the book and flipped through the pages until I found the last one I'd read.
The pictures were darker with the lack of lighting, but the images were so realistic it was easy to tell what was going on. And the words were filled in to guide me through the story.
Giant rolling waves slammed into the sides of the splintering ship, causing it to rock violently in the churning storm. The sirens used the massive swells to scale the gouged wood. Bow to stern, they crept up toward the waiting crew.
Their claws ripped chunks of the thick, crumbling wood away as the sea tried to suck them back into its depths each time the waves receded. But that wasn't the purpose of their destruction. They were sinking the ship. How else would they release their kin? Clever, Arch.
The pirates swung long swords, warding them off and killing most who managed to reach the top. But the crew was well outnumbered. Scaled arms latched onto a wrist, jerking a man overboard. The sirens watched the fall with pure loathing as he tumbled into the waiting army bobbing in the choppy waters. Another was grabbed by the hilt of his sword as he met the same fate. The sirens sang, and others willingly jumped over the sides to be with them.
As I turned the pages, the scenes became more gruesome until one man stood alone on the deck. Countless lives had been lost on both sides.
Then the queen and pirate who'd lost his brother faced off in the final battle. His sword was raised, and her claws were sunk deep into his calf through bloody breeches. They moved at once, each going for the kill. The queen's eyes widened, and then she was falling back into the sea, swallowed by the waves. Cries echoed into the night as her army disappeared, following their queen into the watery graveyard.
My gaze ripped from the page toward Archer. "I thought you said the sirens would win because they were only following their nature. The lesser of the evils."
He cleared his throat and met my eyes. "I realized something yesterday when I was talking to my uncle. I don't write fairy tales—well, not this one. Just because one was possibly less evil, depending on your point of view, doesn't mean they should win."