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Before I knew what I was doing, I reached out and stroked a few fingers down her back.
“Mmm,” she said happily, wiggling a little under the covers. She let out a soft sigh as her lips turned up at the corners.
I yanked my hand back as if I’d touched a hot iron. Blood and heat pounded through me. The sensation seemed like it would be impossible, but she felt like magma in my veins. My cock twitched at the soft sigh she made, immediately sending all sorts of thoughts through my head.
“Damn,” I said softly. “This is a bad idea.”
I warred with myself, torn between wanting to leave the room and never come back and wanting to crawl under the covers with her. Touching her had felt like sunshine, like breathing. Every logical, rational part of me screamed to get away from her.
But I’d always been more of an irrational person. My heart ruled me more than my brain ever did, alive or dead.
Tentatively, I reached forward again and lifted one silky lock of her hair. I caught the smell of coconut shampoo as I wound it around one of my fingers. The world seemed to tunnel in on me as the drumbeat of arousal pounded painfully within me. She sighed happily again, then turned on her back. Her t-shirt fell a little lower, the oversized neckline swooping down to reveal the creamy top of one breast. I licked my lips, tempted to run my fingers over her some more, but I knew I was at some kind of precipice. This was dangerous territory. I couldn’t have her, shouldn’t have her, and especially not like this. If she ever found her way into my dreams or into my realm, I’d want her aware and ready for me, eager for whatever these old bones had left to give.
She stretched in her sleep with another sigh, then turned onto the opposite side. As she did, her hair unwound from my finger.
“Beck,” she murmured sleepily, never actually waking up. “Close the window, it’s cold.”
I looked across the room to where the window remained firmly shut. It was me causing the chill in the air. It was me that made her uncomfortable, and it was Beck she murmured for in her sleep. The warmth in my guts chilled, leaving me feeling more lifeless than I already was.
I gently grabbed the cover and pulled it higher, almost to her chin. It worked double by both making her warm and hiding her from me. I had to get my head in the game if I was going to do this and do this right.
Looking down one last time, her sleeping form gave me an idea. Humans were docile when they slept, vulnerable even. My own father used to take advantage of it. Beck would put up less of a fuss. I looked at his side of the double bed. The nightstand had a guitar pick, a comb, and a book I bet he couldn’t even read. Still, it was clearly his side. All I’d need to do was hide just under it and pounce when he least expected it.
“Tomorrow,” I said softly, both to myself and to Marnie’s sleeping form. “Tomorrow, this will all be over.”
She moaned softly and nuzzled further into her blanket.
Lysandra would be pleased, and even if I never saw Marnie again, she’d be pleased too. Maybe not at first, but in the long run, I would be saving her.
Just like I saved those girls all those years ago.
7
MARNIE
Work at the diner the next day went fine, though I plastered a smile on my face and didn’t let the conversation go anywhere near the topics of Beck or the house. That was quite a feat, let me tell you. But, there’s nothing a lot of bustling around and looking busy won’t fix, though I doubt I fooled Jessica at all. She gave me several sharp, knowing looks throughout the day, but I ignored them all. Beck hadn’t been home the rest of the night. He’d probably stayed with his mom or one of his deadbeat musician buddies. You’d think I’d be more worried about him staying with another woman, but I shockingly wasn’t. Maybe Jessica had been right about that, too. Maybe I was the only woman stupid enough in Delaney to saddle myself with Beck.
Despite it all, I was glad to see his car in the drive when I pulled up in my Honda. The days were starting to shorten, and in the forgiving, dusky light, the house looked actually cozy. A buttery yellow square of light was lit up in the living room window, and another light was on upstairs. It looked almost normal. Not murder-y at all.
As usual, I came in through the back door and plopped two takeout boxes on the kitchen counter. Tonight’s special was Italian Grinder subs with garlic fries, and I’d snagged two of them and a six-pack of beer, hoping to once again have a forgiving and easy night.
Beck was already in the kitchen when I entered, and as soon as I unburdened my hands, I went over to wrap my arms around him. He stiffened under my touch, and not in the good way. I could still feel the tension in the air from last night. We were going to have to address the elephant in the room before we sat down for some subs and brews.
“Glad to see that you’re home,” I said, keeping my tone even. “I brought home some stuff for dinner, but it seems like… I mean, I think we need to talk—”
“No,” Beck said as he held up his hand. “No more talking, Marn. I spent the night at my mom’s last night, and it really made me think about a few things. This just isn’t going to work for me.”
I felt like I’d been socked in the stomach. “You… excuse me?”
“Marnie, I don’t need to explain myself any further,” Beck said simply as he stepped away from me. “This isn’t going to work. For me or my art. I mean, it should be really great for my inspiration, y’know? A broken heart? But I’m not feelin’ it, and I realized that losing you doesn’t break my heart, babe. We’re stagnant, and I need a muse.”
A… a muse… He needed a muse. Temperatures clashed within my body as my pulse pounded hotly and cold sweat broke out all over me.
Suddenly, my phone rang. In a bit of a daze, I pulled it from my pocket and saw that it was the diner calling.
“You should take that,” Beck said simply. “You need the cash.”
“H—Hello,” I said, going through the motions and answering the call even though, inside, I was screaming.
