Page 53 of The Prom

If anything, I’m glad about that and decide to make my escape and say apologetically, “Do you mind, honey? I’m beat and could use an earlier night than planned.”

“Sure.” She sighs, gazing around at the emptying basement. “I could do with some alone time. Jack knows where to find me.”

I don’t even explain my absence to Jesse and slip out before he notices I’m here at all and as I head up the steps from the basement, it’s not the ones leading to my room that I’m heading for now. It’s a different set of steps entirely.

TWENTY-FIVE

DRAKE

After Imogen left, I went home and forwarded the recording to Ryder. I hope he doesn’t share it with Flash because hearing his daughter making out with the number one suspect would be a red rag to the bull.

I attempt to shift my mind away from what Imogen could be doing right now and take a cold shower and curl up in front of the television in an attempt to distract my attention.

Halfway through the movie, my phone lights up and I stare at Imogen’s name on my screen. My heart nosedives because what if she’s in trouble and I reply immediately, “Hey.”

“Hey.” Her soft voice melts my heart as I picture her soft smile and she whispers, “Can I come over?”

Fuck! My immediate response is hell yeah, but common sense overrides my wishes and I say guardedly, “It’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?” She sounds hesitant and probably imagines I’m here with another woman and I curse under my breath.

“We agreed.”

“I want to discuss the conversation with Jesse.”

She adds in a whisper, “I don’t know what to do about him. He wanted to spend time together tonight in his room, but Imade up an excuse and got out of it. I doubt I’ll be so lucky next time.”

I understand her concern and the idea of him placing any one of his hands on her rouses the jealous beast inside me, who is ready to spring with claws drawn where it concerns her.

“I see your predicament.” I groan inwardly, knowing that if she heads over here in the middle of the night, this won’t end well for either of us.

But I go there anyway.

“Sure. Just don’t be seen.”

“I’m already outside.”

I spring up and bolt for the door and as I open it, she shifts inside quickly, and I lock the door behind her.

All the lights are off in my house because of the lie I told Angela and so with only the moon to light her heavenly face, we face one another awkwardly.

“Thanks for the call earlier.”

I attempt to bring us on topic because fuck me, Imogen is worth dying for tonight. Her bright blue eyes are sparkling and her blonde hair frames them like a silk curtain. Her lips are parted in a smile and her willowy body looks good in a figure hugging dress that dusts just above her knees, silver sandals on her feet, revealing perfectly red painted toenails to match her fingers.

“You’re welcome.” She peers past me into the darkness and smiles. “I don’t suppose we could take a seat. It would be good to talk about that conversation.”

“Sure.” I stand to one side and allow her to pass and as she heads into the living room, she perches on the edge of the couch and I swear my testosterone levels are maxed out.

I take the seat opposite and lean forward, my arms resting on my knees as I face her, wishing like hell I took the seat beside her.

“What did you make of his conversation?” She asks with concern, and I shrug.

“He seemed genuine enough, but you were right to insist on actions rather than words.”

“It was the only excuse I could come up with.”

“You needed an excuse?” I raise my eyes. “If you’re not feeling it, darlin’, tell him. You should never do anything you’re not one hundred percent certain of, no matter how they sugar coat the offer.”

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