Then I stared as he walked through my one-bedroom apartment into the kitchen that was open like his and delineated by a short breakfast bar. He switched on the light and looked around even though he could see everything (nearly) from the living room. Leaving the light on, he moved out, opened the door to the bathroom, turned the light on, swung his torso in and looked inside.
What on earth was he doing?
Again, light left on, he swung out and moved to my bedroom.
My body jolted and I called, “Um… Knight?” but he didn’t hesitate, the light went on and he disappeared behind the door.
Seriously, what on earth?
“Knight?” I called, taking two steps into my apartment but he reappeared and prowled with his long-legged strides to me, face still impassive but eyes on me.
He stopped in front of me and held my keys out to me.
“You’re good,” he declared as I took them. “Nice to meet you, Anya.”
Uh… what?
Then his eyes went to the door, they narrowed on it strangely like the sight of my door pissed him off in a not at all vague way, he looked back at me and his eyes unnarrowed but the pissed off look didn’t go away.
Then he muttered, “Jesus.”
I stared at him, confused. Or, I should say, profoundly confused.
Before I could ask, though I was uncertain I would, he went out the door, stopped in it, turned back, his eyes leveled on me and he commanded, “Lock this after me, babe. Pointless but it’s somethin’.”
Then he was gone.
Chapter Two
We Slid over the Edge, Together, Holding Tight, into Nothing
I was sitting on the wraparound balcony. The cushions on the wrought iron furniture were comfy. The view of the Front Range was awesome. The sun was warm. I had a piece of toast in my hand and was about to take a bite when I stopped and twisted my neck to look over my shoulder.
Knight was walking to me, dark gray, drawstring pajama bottoms on, long-ish hair sexy messy from sleep, chest with its enticing array of dark hair bared, eyes on me.
I felt my lips curve.
“Hey,” I whispered.
He didn’t reply.
He walked to me, his hand gathering my hair then twisting it around, he tugged my head back. It wasn’t gentle, it was rough, a hint of pain spiking through my scalp and shooting pleasure straight between my legs. So much, I felt my lips part as I watched his strikingly handsome face coming toward me.
I closed my eyes slowly and waited impatiently for his lips to hit mine.
* * * * *
I opened my eyes and I was in Mrs. Herndon’s room. Second grade. I was sitting at my desk but I was an adult so the desk didn’t fit me. There was a knock at the door, all the kids’ eyes went to it and I felt my heart clutch, my stomach drop.
I remembered this. I’d never forget it. Not ever. Not ever.
Not ever.
Mrs. Herndon got up from her desk at the front of the room and walked to the door.
Don’t go there! Don’t open that door! My mind screamed but I sat at that desk that was too small for me and just watched, not able to move, not able to do anything, just sit there, powerless, about to be cast adrift, lost in a way that felt like forever.
She disappeared behind the door and I kept my eyes glued to it, waiting… waiting…