Confess(26)

“What now?”

“It’s midnight!” he says frantically, slapping at the door. “Call her. Call your roommate!”

“Oh, shit,” I mutter. I retrieve my phone and begin to dial Emory’s number.

“I was about to dial 911,” Emory says as she answers.

“Sorry, we almost forgot.”

“Do you need to use the code word?” she asks.

“No, I’m fine. I already locked him out, so I don’t think he’s going to murder me tonight.”

Emory sighs. “That sucks,” she says. “Not that he didn’t murder you,” she adds quickly. “I just really wanted to hear you say the code word.”

I laugh. “I’m sorry my safety disappoints you.”

She sighs again. “Please? Just say it for me one time.”

“Fine,” I say with a groan. “Meat dress. Are you happy?”

There’s a quiet pause before she says, “I don’t know. Now I’m not sure if you said the code word just to make me happy or if you’re really in danger.”

I laugh. “I’m fine. I’ll see you when you get home.” I hang up the phone and glance at Owen through the opening in the door. His eyebrow is cocked and his head is tilted.

“Your code word was meat dress? That’s kind of morbid, isn’t it?”

I smile, because it kind of is. “So is choosing an apartment based on its connection to a horror film. I told you Emory is different.”

He nods in agreement.

“I had fun tonight,” I tell him.

He smiles. “I had funner.”

We’re both smiling, almost cheesily, until I straighten up and decide to close the door for good this time.

“Good night, Owen.”

“Good night, Auburn,” he says. “Thank you for not correcting my grammar.”

“Thank you for not killing me,” I say in response.

His smile disappears. “Yet.”

I don’t know if I should laugh at that comment.

“I’m kidding,” he says as soon as he sees the hesitation on my face. “My jokes always fail when I’m trying to impress a girl.”

“Don’t worry,” I say to reassure him. “I was kind of impressed as soon as I walked into your studio tonight.”

He smiles appreciatively and slips his hand through the opening in the door before I can shut it again. “Wait,” he says, wiggling his fingers. “Give me your hand.”

“Why? So you can lecture me about how I shouldn’t touch strangers’ hands through locked doors?”

He dismisses my question with a shake of his head. “We’re far from being strangers, Auburn. Give me your hand.”

I tentatively bring my fingers up and barely touch them to his. I’m not sure what he’s doing. His eyes drop to our fingers, and he leans his head against the door frame. I do the same and we both watch our hands as he slides his fingers between mine.

We’re on two separate sides of a locked door, so I have no idea how simply touching his hand can make me have to lean against the wall for support, but that’s exactly what I’m doing. Chills run up my arms and I close my eyes.

His fingers brush delicately over my palm and trace their way around my hand. My breaths are shaky and my hand is growing even shakier. I have to stop myself from unlocking the door so I can pull him inside and beg him to do to the rest of me what he’s doing to my hand.

“You feel that?” he whispers.

I nod, because I know he’s looking right at me. I can feel his stare. He doesn’t speak again and his hand eventually stills against mine, so I slowly open my eyes. He’s still watching me through the crack in the door, but as soon as my eyes are all the way open, he quickly lifts his head away from the door frame and pulls his hand back, leaving mine empty.

“Fuck,” he says, standing up straight. He runs his hand through his hair and then grips the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I’m ridiculous.” He releases his neck and grips the doorknob. “I’m leaving for real this time. Before I scare you away,” he says with a smile.

I grin. “Good night, OMG.”

He slowly shakes his head back and forth while his eyes narrow playfully. “You’re lucky I like you, Auburn Mason Reed.”

With that, he closes the door.

“Oh my God,” I whisper. I think I might have a crush on that boy.