Black Bird of the Gallows(36)
I’m in the rabbit hole. I want to know where it leads.
He pulls me into his room and shuts the door behind us. All of a sudden, my back is against the door, and Reece is right in front of me. If I inhale deeply, my chest will touch his. Our fingers are still tangled. Our breathing is chaotic. I didn’t expect this. I don’t even know what this is.
I open my mouth to say something, but he closes the space between us and kisses me.
My legs are mush. My mind goes haywire, then blank, and I’m kissing him back as if the world is coming to an end. Who knows? Maybe it is.
He threads his fingers into my hair and we break apart, breathless. “I wanted to do that last night.” His voice is soft against my cheek.
Smiling, I push him away. “That was really nice, but I don’t kiss guys who won’t tell me what planet they’re from.”
He braces his forearm on the door above my head, a cocky grin on his lips. “I told you before. I’m not an alien.”
“Well, you sure as hell aren’t human.”
“Yeah, I am…sort of.”
My fingers splay on his chest. His heart pumps wildly beneath my hands. I can’t take my gaze away from his lips, which are still flushed from our kiss. I can feel the tension in him. How much he wants to kiss me again. I want it, too, but I need know a little more about what I’m kissing. He didn’t completely contradict me when I said he wasn’t human. “Sort of” doesn’t count.
With regret, I remove my hands from his chest, letting them slide over his abdomen a little and enjoying his shudder in response. “Reece,” I say. “Is that Beekeeper—Rafette—stinging people in town, making them violent? There was an incident at The Strip Mall last night, and I read there was a murder at that dry cleaners. Did he—”
“Yes.” Reece drops his voice. “It’s what he does. He stings.”
“And the man who lived in this house before you guys—Mr. Ortley. He murdered his family and killed himself. Was that also a Beekeeper sting?”
His eyes flicker. “We did a little investigating. Ortley was in Miami right before Hurricane Viola hit. He likely got stung, boarded a plane, returned home and…” Reece sighs. “It’s the way it goes sometimes. We get great real estate deals on houses the Beekeepers have broken.”
I jerk back. “That’s horrible.”
“Oh, I’m well aware of that, but we’ve lived this way for a long time. Eventually, tragedy loses some of its impact on you. It has to, or you lose your sanity.” He steps away and rakes both hands through his hair. “Look, my family and I talked. We decided that you should know the truth. You’re too close to this in more ways than you realize.”
“You needed permission?”
He shrugs off my skeptical look. “When you’re in a group like mine, decisions like this impact everyone. So I wanted permission. It would be hugely disrespectful if I hadn’t discussed it with them.” He glances at the door. “There’s not enough time right now. Your dad is probably freaking out as it is. What are you doing tonight?”
“I… Nothing. Why? Do you want to go somewhere?”
“Yeah,” he says. “I want to come over.”
My heart bumps hard in my chest. “I don’t really think my dad will go for that.”
“He lets that Deno guy come over.”
I roll my eyes. “Deno is different.”
“How?”
“We’ve been friends for five years. He knows there’s nothing going on between us.”
Reece raises a brow, but I wave my hand before he starts asking more questions about Deno. I would rather not reveal too much about the dynamics of that friendship.
“The problem is, I think my dad knows that I-I…” I swallow the burn of nerves in my throat. “I think he knows I like you. He’ll keep tabs on us, and I doubt this is a conversation he should overhear.”
“It’s definitely not,” he says, then pauses. “Okay, what time does your dad go to bed?”
“Around ten, most nights.”
He nods. “Leave your basement door unlocked. That’s where your music studio is, right?”
“Yeah. Hey, how do you where my studio is?”
He rolls his eyes. “Well, I know it isn’t in your garage. And anyone can see the basement light on at night when the rest of your house is dark.” He grins and releases my hand, opening the door behind me. “Is ten thirty too late for you?”
“No, but—”
He presses his lips to my forehead and gently pushes me out of his room. “Look annoyed and tell your dad I got a phone call. It may lessen his worry that I’m attracted to his daughter.”
My brows pop up. “You’re attracted to me?”
“Very.” His hand curls around the back of my neck, and he pulls me into a quick, hard kiss that leaves me breathless. “See you tonight.”
He steps back, and the door closes gently, but firmly, in my face.
Well, wow. A pleasant warmth uncurls in my belly and sends a current straight down to my toes. I stand there for a moment, heart beating like a drum, staring at his door. Resisting the near-crushing urge to open it again.
I’m in trouble. No question. That rabbit hole is looking way too appealing for my own good. And ten thirty is twelve long hours away.