He puts one key in and it doesn’t turn, so he tries another. “Fucking keys,” he whispers.
I smile as I watch him struggle; so unlike him to not know how to do something.
“Do you want me to try?” I ask.
“No,” he snaps. “I’m perfectly capable of working a lock, Kathryn.”
“But are you?”
He glances up, unimpressed.
I giggle and hold my hands up playfully. “Okay. Sorry, boss.”
He struggles with the key and I run my hand down his back and over his tight ass. “That’s more like it,” he mutters as he keeps trying. “Keep doing that.” He fumbles some more. “Why are there so many fucking keys on this ring?” He jiggles the huge door with force.
“You must have a lot of doors.”
“That are about to be kicked in,” he snaps in frustration. The door finally gives way, and he pushes it open. It lets out a long, slow creak as it swings and I shine my phone light inside.
“Where are the light switches?” I ask.
“Who knows?” He takes my hand and leads me inside. “Shine the flashlight on the walls.”
I giggle as I do as I’m told. This is so unexpected. “There they are. Next to the door, imagine that?”
Elliot flicks them on and the room is brought into the light. I look around at the grandeur and my mouth falls open.
“Elliot,” I gasp.
“You like?” He smiles softly as he looks around.
“Oh my God, I love.” I look around in awe. “This is incredible.”
I turn back to see Elliot staring at me intently, and my heart constricts. I wasn’t lying before, I don’t know what this is between us.
But it makes me feel everything.
The good, the bad, and the ugly . . . but mostly, alive.
I twist my fingers in front of me. “Thank you for inviting me to stay here on your first night . . . it means a lot.”
“Well.” He shrugs casually. “I need someone to use as a shield, on account of the ghosts.”
I giggle and step toward him and he takes me into his arms, and we kiss.
Ever so gently, he melts toward me. The emotion bounces between us like an echo.
And I know it shouldn’t, but this feels real.
A frown crosses his brow, and he pushes the hair back from my forehead as he looks down at me. He presses his lips together as if stopping himself from saying something out loud.
Why does he do that?
“Do you need to eat . . . or?”
“I don’t know what I need anymore,” he whispers as he stares at me.
“I do.” I take his hand and lead him toward the stairs. “Where is your bedroom?” I ask.
“Upstairs somewhere, I have no fucking clue.”
I giggle and he pulls me back by the hand and I slam into his body, and he kisses me.
Hard and urgent and the emotion behind it tears my heart wide open.
He leads me up the grand double-width staircase, and when we get to the top, it falls into pitch-black darkness again. “Are there really ghosts here?” I whisper.
“Relax, nothing’s as scary as you.”
I scare him . . . I knew it.
I’m not imagining it, there is something here between us.