Page 57 of Last Chorus

He’s nervous, too.

Another surge of adrenaline lifts my heart to the base of my throat. I can hear my own breathing, steady if fast, but I’m suddenly not getting enough oxygen. My hands and feet tingle. My armpits, too.

I open my mouth.

Wilder says, “Okay. Um, goodnight. I’m just down the hall if you need me—something, I mean. If you need something.”

Our eyes meet for half a second before he pivots and walks toward his room. One step, two steps, three…

“Wait!”

My plea is far too loud and high-pitched. Basically a screech.

Wilder freezes in place, then spins back around. “Holy shit, I thought I was about to fall down the stairs.”

We both look at the stairs—that are at least five feet away in the opposite direction—then look at each other.

“Oops?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, then chuckles. “Oops, she says.” Lowering his hand, he squints at me. “Were you trying to give me a heart attack or did you think of something you needed?”

Butterflies thwack against my ribcage and dive-bomb my centerline. I lick my lips. Take a stuttering breath.

Fuck it.

“You.”

His brows pinch. “You need…” Understanding dawns, lifting his chest on a sharp breath. His eyes darken. So does his voice. “Tell me what you mean by that.”

My toes curl against hardwood. “I need—or want, I should say—what I mean is I’m offering, ifyouwanted to, you know?—”

“Evangeline,” he says in a pained voice. “Please stop.”

My teeth click as I close them. Before I can decide whether to throw myself in the bedroom and slam the door or run down the stairs and out of the house, Wilder takes a step toward me. The intensity in his expression pins me to the floor.

“So I don’t misunderstand, are you asking for my company? Like you want to talk or hang out? Or are you asking me if I want to fuck?”

I choke on my next breath but manage to force out, “Second one.”

A muscle on his jawline jumps. His stare penetrates me but not in a fun way. The longer he looks at me, the tighter vines of fear wrap around my chest.

When he sighs heavily, my heart dehydrates.

I’m too late.

Whatever he sees on my face makes his lips thin. “How are you one of the most observant people I’ve ever known and still so blind? If you’d so much as glanced down once in the last few minutes, you’d already know the answer.”

My gaze drops right as his tattooed hand strokes across the outline of his erection. A bomb explodes at the base of my spine, instantly drenching my underwear.

“I jacked off twice in the shower.Twice.And all you had to do was say ‘hi’ to me for this to happen.” He grunts. “Enough. Eyes up.”

My gaze lifts to his face. But instead of the anticipation I’m expecting, I find frustration.

“Me wanting to fuck you is like taxes and gravity. Immutable.”

I whisper, “Why do you sound angry about it?”

Hands sinking into his hair, his head drops back. I have no idea what he’s looking at on the ceiling, but ten seconds pass before his shoulders and face lower.

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