Her skin began tingling. “Speaking of those creepy guys…Did you know who they were?”
“Not a clue. But they came to school looking for you every day for a whole week after you went missing.”
She shivered and pulled the neck of her sweatshirt higher. “Did they ever come back to the house?”
“They’ve been here a couple of times since, asking us if we’ve heard from you. But mostly, they end up talking to Mom.”
“If they come back again, are you going to tell them I called?”
“Seriously, Viv? I never ratted you out before, why the hell would I start now?”
She smiled at the starless night. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too.” A door shut in the background. “Can you tell me where you’re hiding?”
“Not yet.” Vivienne meandered toward the hotel. “But I can wish you a belated happy birthday.”
Lyle chuckled. “Well, this was a great birthday present.”
“I’ll try to call again soon.” She ended the call and tossed the phone into the trash can outside reception.
The hotel’s automatic doors opened to the lobby when she got close. She wasn’t going to be able to sleep for a while with all the adrenaline—
Deacon smiled at her from the couch next to the lobby’s marble fireplace.
What the heck was he doing here?
“You’ve gotta stop following me. It’s getting creepy.”
“Maybe you need to stop running away.” Deacon stood and slid his hands down his thighs, straightening his dark pants. They rode low on his hips, revealing a hint of black elastic beneath. She tore her eyes from his waist. The last thing she needed was to think about Deacon Ashford in his underwear.
“Running away? I told you that Emily and I were going shopping.”
His head tilted to the side and he narrowed his eyes at her sweatshirt. “You don’t strike me as the kind of girl who enjoys shopping sprees.”
If only she had taken Emily’s advice and worn something prettier. He slipped a finger through one of the holes in her sweatshirt. “I hope you bought a new top.”
She could feel his skin against her bare stomach, stirring up the fireflies. When he withdrew his hand, she had to fight the urge to bring it back. He sank onto the couch and patted the seat beside him.
“About twenty of them,” she said, dropping onto the cushion. “Shopping with Emily is like running a marathon. As you can tell from this ancient thing I have on, I’ve never been too concerned with what I wear.”
“Then why did you agree to come?”
Crap. She’d set herself up for that one. “I guess I wanted a chance to feel like a normal teenager for a day.”
“And do you feel normal now that you’ve had some retail therapy?”
She gave him a sidelong smile. “No.”
“You’ll never feel like you used to.”
How could one person be so good looking? It wasn’t fair.
“Why are you really here, Deacon?” He had to know she wasn’t going to run away. She had nowhere else to go. “And how did you find us?”
His brows came together and his mouth flattened. “I may have asked a friend to track your mobile phone.”
First the invitation to lunch, and now this? What the heck was going on?
He brushed her hair over her shoulder and traced the neckline on her top, and every single muscle in her body tensed. Her heart was hammering so loudly she was sure he could hear it, and she was afraid if she moved, he’d take his hand away and she’d die. But if he didn’t stop touching her, she was going to catch on fire.
“And I already told you,” he said quietly, “I’m making sure you’re not going to run off again.”
Vivienne didn’t know if Neverland would be her forever, but it was her right-now. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I suppose I look a bit silly following you across state lines.”
Before she could answer, she yawned.
Deacon blinked. His hand stilled . . . and dropped. “You’re tired.”
Tired? She wasn’t tired. She’d never felt more awake. “No, I’m not.” She didn’t want to go. Not yet.
“Go to bed, Vivienne.” His lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Emily’s probably waiting for a pillow fight.”
“Pillow fight?” He really did say the strangest things.
He picked up the decorative pillow between them and tossed it into the air. “Pillow fights are kind of a staple at girl sleepovers, aren’t they?”
“Very mature.” She twisted her wrist to check the time. It couldn’t be midnight already . . .
“My money’s on you. You’re feistier than you look.”
“Watch out. Otherwise, you’re the one I’ll be beating with a pillow.” She clutched the decorative pillow at her back and launched it toward him.
He caught it with a laugh. “I’d be up for that.”
Something dark twisted inside of her, urging her to play this dangerous game with him. “Do you have a room?”
His eyes widened. “Why?”
She shifted on the couch, leaned close enough to feel the heat from his skin and smell his cologne, and whispered, “For our pillow fight.”
His smile faltered, and his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. “Seriously?”
The final pillow caught him in the side of the head. “Nope. I was only wondering if you were staying here or going back to Kensington.”
He threw it back at her. “I’ll stay if you stay with me.”
“Is that…is that a joke?” He was joking, right? He had to be joking. Because he was not asking her to stay the night with him.
His lips curled into a slow smile, like he knew she was freaking out. “I don’t know, is it?”
Flirt and fly away. That’s what Deacon did.
But not tonight.
Tonight, she was the one who was going to leave. “Goodnight, Deacon.”
She ignored the shock on his face, grabbed her bag of snacks, and ran to the elevator.
She didn’t turn around. Couldn’t. Because if she did, she’d be tempted to take him up on his offer.
The next morning, Vivienne expected to see a flirty text or two from Deacon. But all she got was a stupid blank screen. Stupid guys with their stupid flirting.
She really needed to get a grip.
They got back to Kensington that afternoon, and it took two trips to get all of the bags into the apartment.
“I’m so glad we’re home!” Emily dumped the last of the bags onto the floor next to the first batch.
“Me too.” Although Vivienne’s response had been automatic, it surprised her to realize how much she meant it. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but her apartment at Kensington felt more like home than Lynn’s house ever did. She stacked her new clothes on her desk before putting them away. Beneath the final sweater, she found the book of rules that Penelope had given them on their first day.
She really should have done more than skim the first few pages. Figuring now was as good a time as any, she brought it to her bed and settled in to learn all the things she wasn’t allowed to do. Three pages in, her eyes started getting heavy. At five pages, the words blurred. At six, she gave up and took a nap.