𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.✓ completed

Untitled Part 8

 Chapter Eight

Beck

After spending the morning worrying about Willow, I was glad to be at her place again, even if it was just to tow her car home.

As I stood at her front door, I drummed my fingers against the sides of my legs, restless. The neighbourhood made me uneasy; people were always selling drugs and sometimes their bodies, and a couple was screwing each other on the front porch of their apartment ... At least, I think it was their apartment.

My nerves died, however, when I heard Willow talking to someone through the door, saying my name and sex a couple of times. I wasn't exactly sure what was being discussed, but listening to Willow talk about me and sex had me grinning like a dumbass.

When she opened the door, I tried to hide my elation and failed epically. Honestly, I didn't really give a shit. After all, Willow was talking about me and sex. Sex and me.

I couldn't stop grinning idiotically as I thought about last night.

Then I noticed the disarray in the living room, and my good mood went poof as I was painfully reminded of another thing I have to do today: have a talk with her.

Ari is supposed to meet us on the highway in about an hour, which leaves me about thirty minutes to persuade her to move away from this fucking hellhole in the middle of town, and not just move away, but move in with me. Knowing Willow, she isn't going to take what I have to say very well. She'll be stubborn, try to refuse. I've had this conversation enough times with her to know. But I'm not ready to give up.

I have nightmares of the stuff that goes on here, stuff I've heard Willow whisper about when she's really frightened. I know she holds back all the details ... all the time.

"So, what happened to your mom this time that set her off?" I ask after Willow signals for me to come inside. I turn in a circle in the kitchen, glass crunching underneath my boots. Then I tip my head up and frown at the broken light above. "Someone broke your light."

"I know." She heaves a weight-of-the-world-on-my-shoulders sigh before crossing the kitchen and opening the fridge. "And I'm not sure what set her off. I think she's just rebounding."

I walk up behind her as she lowers her head and peers inside the empty fridge. "Did anyone bother you after I left? The house seemed empty."

"A guy knocked on my room, but that's it."

"That's it? You say that like it's no big deal."

"It's not. Not really. And at least he didn't come inside my room."

I take a deep breath as my frustration rises, reminding myself that I'm going to talk to her about this, get her out of here.

She extends her arm across the empty top shelf, slips her fingers behind it, and wiggles out a small box of pre-cooked bacon.

"Did you hide that back there?" I lean against the wall beside the fridge, observing her: the way strands of her long, brown hair hang in her big eyes; the arch of her back; the way her ass peeks out of her pyjama bottoms ... If I walked up behind her, it'd be the perfect position...

"Yeah, I did." She steps back and closes the fridge, thrusting me out of my dirty thoughts. "I have to because my mom's friends usually eat everything when they come over ..." She trails off as she looks at me with her head angled to the side. "What's that look on your face about?"

"What look?" The look where I think about fucking you from behind? Do I have a look for that, too?

"You just look ... I don't know"—she scratches at the back of her neck—"pensive or something."

"Pensive, huh?" I choke back a laugh. Huh, so that's the look I have on my face when I get dirty thoughts of her. "Interesting word choice."

"Well, it's what you look like." She tears open the box of bacon. "But the question is, why?" She heads toward the microwave then reels back around with an amused look on her face. "I'm thinking either you're high or you got some this morning."

"You know I don't drive when I'm high." I pause, assessing her reaction. "And as for the getting some this morning, I actually haven't gotten any for a really long time."

"What's a really long time?" Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, her gaze flickering to my lips. "Never mind. That's none of my business."

"Why not?" I cock a brow. "I told you when I lost my virginity."

She scratches her neck again. "Yeah, and I felt pretty uncomfortable when you did."

I should drop this, but I can't. She's acting so shifty, and I want to know why, if it has anything to do with me.