Page 24 of A Midnight Romance
“What do you mean until this is all over?”
“You need to go back inside.” His tone is sharp.
“Not until you give me answers.”
“It’s nothing to concern yourself over.”
Exasperation bubbles from within. “That’s not your decision to make.”
He looks away, his eyes trained elsewhere. “Trust me, the less you know the better.”
Swallowing hard, I realize he won’t give up anything, no matter how hard I try. “Can you at least explain why you’re outside my house in the middle of the night, then?”
He saunters forward, eating up the space separating us. The beating in my chest quickens. “I need to make sure you stay safe.”
Oh.
His words washing over the cool night air is nothing short of pure shock. This masked stranger has not only rescued me from the worst night of my life but has taken it upon himself to ensure my safety.
None of my criminology or psychology classes in college prepared me for someone like him or how to deal with him making my stomach do things it shouldn’t in a situation like this. They didn’t exactly coverquestionable men who might have an interest in a woman’s safetyin my school textbooks.
“I’m fine.”
He clicks his tongue as if chiding me. “You walked outside in the middle of night after an unknown number messaged you.” He leans down, his breath fanning across my skin. “Your decision-making abilities are questionable, so pardon me for not taking your word for it.”
He’s right, and it pisses me off. This isn’t like me, but who is he to lecture me?
“I knew it was you.”
“And you’re not afraid of me?”
I’m terrified, but I’m not about to let him know that.
“No,” I say with an unstable confidence.
A rumble bellows from his chest as he lets out a sinful chuckle as his fingertips glide up the bare skin of my arm. “You should be.”
Afraid to move, my arms remain stiff at my sides. “And why is that? You said you’re here to make sure I’m safe.” I part my lips, sucking in a breath of courage. “If you wanted to hurt me, you would have already.”
He’s silent for a beat. His enigmatic nature confuses me, but then he speaks.
“What do you want?” he asks with slight frustration, crossing his arm across his chest. The rapid change in his demeanor is unsettling—yet infatuating.
“Answers,” I plead, shocked by hearing the raw honesty in my voice.
“I can’t give you answers.” Even through the tiny holes in his mask, I can see his eyes narrowing. “Now go inside, Lux.”
A reminder of a false sense of control pings my insides. It brings to the surface the turmoil and desperation I’ve lived with every minute of every day in the last week.
“How do you know so much about me while I know nothing about you?” I challenge, but my voice is frail and trembling, barely carrying my defiance.
“You don’t need to know who I am.”
“Ilovehow this entire conversation has been you telling me what I should and shouldn’t know,” I retort.
“Get inside. Don’t make me repeat myself again.”
“At least tell me your name.” A last ditch effort for something I can hold on to. Some sort of win for myself.
