“Rest now,” the voice whispers, pressing an awful kiss to my cheek.
That’s the last thing I remember.
I come to with a gasp, my heart racing, sweat soaking my sheets. A quick glance around the room shows me that I’m back at Tess’ place, the view of Lake Washington taking up the far wall and reminding me that I forgot to close the curtains.
For several minutes, I just sit there, clutching my pajamas in one fist and struggling to control my breathing.
When I throw my blankets back, I expect to find dirty and bloodied feet. Only one of those things seems to be true. There are marks on the bottoms of my feet, small scrapes and cuts that clearly came from somewhere. That, and my back is sore as hell. On the other hand, I’m wearing the same pajamas that I went to bed in and there isn’t a speck of dirt or blood on them, not from my fall to the pavement, not from lying on my back on the damp forest floor.
Nothing.
“What the hell?” I murmur as my door swings open softly and a pale face appears in the blackness.
It’s Parrish.
“Where have you been?” he asks, sounding mildly annoyed. “Tess came looking for you, and I told her you were in the sauna.”
“The sauna?” I repeat, because I’m having trouble making sense of what just happened. There’s no way in hell that was a dream; I’m not stupid enough to believe it was. “I was most definitely not in the sauna,” I murmur, reaching up with both hands to rub at my face. Parrish leans his long body against the doorjamb, watching me with a quiet expression. If he’s responsible for what just happened to me, if he was in on the … prank or whatever it is, then he’s a beautiful liar because when I drop my hands to my lap and look at him, I don’t see any hint of subterfuge or cruel amusement. “I think I was in the woods?” There’s a question mark at the end of that sentence that Parrish raises an eyebrow at.
“You think you were in the woods?” he asks, blinking at me. He moves further into my room, and I feel that hot tightness in my chest again. There’s something about him that really gets to me, some deep core of emotion and self-sacrifice that I understand. We’re really two peas in a pod, me and my new stepbrother.
“Are there are any parks near here?” I ask, looking up at him and feeling along the side of my neck where I felt the needle enter my skin. Frankly, I should probably grab my phone and call the cops. Or at the very least, go wake Tess and Paul and tell them what happened. But how the fuck do I explain this without the both of them thinking that I’ve gone nuts? I’m the one that experienced it, and even still, I’m struggling to make sense of the whole thing. “Like, a playground/skatepark surrounded by woods perchance?”
“Are you smoking some really good weed or something?” Parrish asks, glancing away as I yank down the neckline of my pj top, searching for bumps with my fingers.
“Can you check my neck?” I ask him, and he whips his head back like I’ve gone completely insane.
“Check your neck for what?” he repeats, puzzlement clear in his voice. I reach over and turn the bedside lamp on—some metal space-agey looking thing that I can’t wait to get rid of. Moving into the bathroom, I turn that light on, too, and start looking for marks. Parrish follows me to the bathroom door, shirtless and barefoot as always, and then gives a dramatic sigh before finally stepping up behind me.
My breath escapes in a rush as he uses long, inked fingers to sweep my green and black hair away from my neck. In the mirror, I watch as his reflection stands tall over mine, the bare muscles in his chest and shoulders tense, but his touch gentle and warm.
I could get used to being touched like that, I think, exhaling sharply as he runs his fingertips against the side of my neck, leaving lines of aching fire in his wake. My eyes close of their own accord, and I find myself breathing deep and heavy, leaning back into him without meaning to.
“Shit,” he murmurs, scoffing as he teases me with his fingertips, stroking one along the throbbing beat of my pulse. “What the fuck am I looking for? Vampire bites?” He pauses briefly and then presses down slightly, making me cringe. “Is that painful?”
I open my eyes to find him watching me in the mirror’s reflection.
“Does it look like a needle mark?” I ask, and Parrish blinks back at me in surprise.
“A needle mark?” he repeats, like I really have lost my mind. “It looks like a fucking bug bite.”
He rests his hand against the side of my neck, and I find myself pressing harder back into him, enjoying the hot heat of his body. When his eyes drop to my neck and his hand falls by his side, I go tense, waiting, wanting, unsure what exactly it is that I’m wanting or why I care more about this all of a sudden than I do about the fact that I just escaped a pair of crazy men in a park.
That wasn’t real, I tell myself because to think otherwise is unfathomable. Some random dudes kidnapped me and took me to the woods, chased me for fun, knocked me out, and brought me back home relatively unharmed? It makes zero sense.
Parrish leans down and breathes against the side of my exposed throat, almost like he’s waiting for something. Permission, probably. Consent. Fuuuuck, there’s nothing sexier than that.
“Show me where it is.”
The words sound innocuous enough, but there’s a hidden meaning to it, a euphemism that we can both sense. Parrish curses again, some meaningless words that I feel in the softness of his breath rather than hear. He leans down and swipes his knuckles against the back of my neck, pushing my hair aside and dropping his mouth to the sore spot.
A sound escapes me, something foreign and new but exciting. I lean back even harder, pressing my body to his, and end up rubbing myself against the bulge in his pajama pants. With a sharp hiss, Parrish steps away from me, swiping his hand over his face. His skin is red with a hot flush, and even though my body feels weird and rebellious, I have to laugh. He blushes as badly as I do.
“There’s nothing on your neck but a goddamn mosquito bite,” he murmurs, flicking the light switch and plunging us into darkness. There’s no moon tonight either, just the distant twinkling of city lights to guide me as I follow Parrish back to the bedroom door.
“I woke up in the woods, Parrish,” I tell him, because even if it wasn’t real, it felt real. It could’ve been a prank, right? It could’ve happened, as far-fetched as that seems. “Is Chasm here?”
Parrish rests his hand on the doorjamb, and it takes me a moment to realize how heavily he’s breathing. How heavily I’m breathing. Without thinking, I reach out and run my fingers down the smooth length of his spine.
“Stop touching me,” he growls, spinning around abruptly. “And stop asking about Chasm. He isn’t interested in you.”
“Interested in me?” I echo, like the thought never occurred to me. It had, briefly, but I brushed it off. I must be going through some hormonal phase because I’m finding myself simultaneously attracted to multiple people—two of which are completely off-limits. Maxx is with my sister; Parrish is my stepbrother. But Chasm? I don’t need or want a boyfriend right now, and if I did, it isn’t like they’re hard to get. Any girl can tell you how unbelievably easy it is to get a guy if you want one. It’s harder to get rid of them, more often than not. “That’s not why I’m asking, Parrish.”