Page 61 of The Invite
Unable to resist, I trace them and my fingers feel small against his impressions. Augustus may be in high school but you cannot tell from gazing at him. He’s extremely tall and his body is a tempting work of art. Lean but muscular and solid everywhere.
It’s why I was so flabbergasted when I saw him in my class as a student.
He isn’t a minor but what’s happening between us is still wrong and could destroy my reputation. I’m the only one who comes looking out like a predator if it ever got out. A fact thrown in my face by Augustus too.
I don’t want to become the topic of fresh gossip in the town. It’s bad enough that I’m one in the school. Something I’ll have to face today.
Dropping my hand from my thigh, I walk into the glass shower stall and turn on the water until the warm spray drenches me in seconds. The heat on my skin is welcoming and helps soothe my sore muscles.
As I rub and soap up my body, my thoughts drift to Augustus. Is it weird that I haven’t once seen him naked? I haven't even so much as glimpsed his arms since he’s always wearing full-sleeved shirts or hoodies.
Is he hiding something?
Speaking of hiding, has he noticed the stab scar on my lower stomach? I’m overridden with adrenaline and fear when his hands are on me to pay attention to anything else.
Augustus is shrewd and perceptive. No way he would’ve missed my scar.
What does he think? Is he intrigued? Wondering about the sob story behind it? Most importantly, why do I care?
I have enough problems without having him look into my past.
After rinsing off the soap, I snatch the towel from the hook and dry myself off. I hurry to blow-dry my hair and quickly wear my outfit. A touch of makeup and I’m ready on time. Leaving the bed unmade, I leave my room.
Ace must be on his way.
The clothes Augustus tore off my body are nowhere to be found on the first floor. Until I reach downstairs and see them neatly folded and piled on my couch.
Augustus is so… weird.
What kind of stalker tidies up their stalkee’s house after scaring the bejesus out of them?
More like cleaning up the scene of the crime.
He’s also a stone-cold killer. He admitted so himself. In the moment, it rocked me to my core. Especially with the normal tone he confessed it. No remorse. No emotion. Just a cold truth.
One thing I’ve learned in my short experience with him is that his threats aren’t idle.
If he went off the rails over a simple and friendly peck from Ace, what the fuck is he going to do after he finds out I’m taking a ride to school with him for the foreseeable future?
How do I stop him from finding out?
A headache begins to form in my temples at the chaos my life has become lately.
On the top of the clothes pile, something else catches my eye. A familiar sheet of paper. Afraid as if it’ll bite me, I hesitantly pick it up. When I turn it over, I’m gazing down at a drawing of myself.
I’m lying naked from thewaist above on the floor while a dark silhouette is between my thighs right over my center. My head isthrown back with my hair spread out in a halo with my eyes squeezed shut, and my mouth is parted on a pleasured scream.
The shaded hand of the figure molds to one of my breasts. I don’t miss the veiled symbolism of the man being a shadow. That’s who my masked monster—Augustus—is to me. A devil reining me in from the shadows.
The rest of the details are uncanny. Augustus has captured the high ceilings of my house, andthe staircase right behind my head. How I’m slightly hanging off it.
It’s like I’m reliving the scene all over again but throughhiseyes.
And what he sees isn’t a girl scared for her life.
It’s a girl dancing with the devil and loving it to the fullest.
Putting the paper back in its place, I push the image out of my head. I refuse to believe I remotely desire him. He’s toying with my mind. That’s all.
