Page 31 of Lights Out

“You’re gonna have to do better than one sappy video if you want me to forgive you for watching me without my consent,” Aly said between bites.

I nodded to show I understood. Was I sorry for what I’d done? No, not at all, but I wouldn’t deny her right to be angry, and if there were a chance she’d forgive me for it, I’d find a million ways to apologize for upsetting her until she gave in.

“Thank you for driving me home,” she added in a softer tone. “I didn’t want to call an Uber or try to sleep in the hospital.”

I smiled and started to reach out to pat her knee as a way to say, “You’re welcome,” but the gun jammed back into my ribs, and I stalled out halfway there.

“No touchy. Still angry.”

I held my hand up, fingers spread until the gun eased off me. My dick chose that moment to remind me how turned on I was by making another bid to break through my zipper. Feisty Aly was hot. I couldn’t wait until she forgave me so I could start finding ways to piss her off again. Masochistic? Maybe. But for some reason, our bickering felt more like foreplay than an actualargument, and I was into it. I could only imagine how good the makeup sex would be.

The city was quiet so early in the morning. I’d driven through it a lot around this time, thanks to my insomnia, and I never got over how eerie it was. It felt like I was on the set of a post-apocalyptic movie, one of the only humans left after a terrible plague or zombie virus swept over the planet.

Tonight was less creepy and more cozy thanks to the storm, the sidewalks covered in snowbanks, everything bright and fresh like the city had been washed clean of all its sins. I knew it wouldn’t last, that it would only take a couple of hours once the snow stopped falling for life to resume and the banks to turn black from the dirt and grime splashed onto them by passing cars.

Aly leaned forward and turned the heat up another level. I shifted in my seat as I stopped at a red light, shrugging off my hoodie. My blood was up from being so close to her. I was on the verge of perspiring, and there was nothing to kill a mood like clammy skin.

I pushed my sleeves up to my elbows and turned left when the light changed, heading toward the city's outskirts and a smaller road where there was less chance of passing anyone.

There, that was better. Sweat crisis averted.

It took me a moment to notice how motionless Aly had become. I glanced over as we passed under a streetlight and caught her staring at my forearm, the gun resting forgotten against her thigh.

Well, well, well. I’d spent so much time thinking up ways to soften her toward me that I’d missed the most obvious ally I had: her body and the way it betrayed her after all the time she’d devoted to my videos. I’d downloaded her user data off the app, and she’d spent a staggering 200 hours staring at me. When youlooked at it that way, I seemed like a saint. I’d watched her less than 40 so far.

She might be mad at me, but her lizard brain was probably triggered by being so close to someone she’d pleasured herself to. I knew it had happened at least once, but I prayed it wasn’t the only time and that she’d gotten off to me so often that my proximity alone was enough to soak her panties.

What was it she’d said about my forearms in that one comment? That she wanted to trace each vein with her tongue?

Testing my hypothesis, I gripped the steering wheel tighter, making them pop. Aly made a small, helpless sound and yanked her gaze away, dropping it back to her dwindling baggie of trail mix. I tried to stifle my smugness and failed spectacularly. She wanted me. Bad. Maybe more than I wanted her, which was saying something.

I wished I could turn and watch her, memorize the way her cheeks warmed and her breath picked up, but as we headed further from the city center, the driving conditions got worse, and I had precious cargo with me. I needed to focus on getting her home safely before I gave in to my darker needs.

“Turn left at the next light,” my phone told me. I dutifully slowed to another stop a few minutes later and threw on my blinker. A lifted truck pulled up next to us, and I heard a man’s voice call out, muffled by the windows.

“Assholes,” Aly said, flipping the other vehicle off as she turned my way, effectively hiding her face from the driver’s sight.

Did they just say something rude to her?

The truck honked, and I heard the obvious sound of a catcall.

Oh, hell no.

I shifted into park, scooped the forgotten knife off the floor by Aly’s feet, and got out of the car to stare down the other driver over the roof.

The middle-aged white dude took one look at my mask and reared back in his seat.

His buddy on the passenger side started shoving his shoulder. “Dude, what the fuck?”

I lifted the knife with one hand and twiddled my fingers hello with the other.

Boo, motherfuckers.

The driver gunned the gas, running the red light as he took off into the night.

I grinned and got back in the car, flipping the knife and catching it by the tip before offering it to Aly hilt-first.

She eyed me for a long moment before setting the gun down to take it. “You’re deranged. You know that?”

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