by Ali Novak
This conversation was definitely not meant for my ears, and even though I wanted to wait for Alec’s response, I felt guilty for listening, so I retreated back to my room before anyone caught me eavesdropping. Collapsing on the bed, I decided to linger for a few minutes to give the two time to finish their talk.
As I stared at the ceiling, I replayed what I’d heard. Neither had mentioned my name specifically, but I couldn’t shake the suspicion that I was somehow tangled up in a bigger issue. If that was the case, and Stella thought Alec was being untruthful… I couldn’t help but recall the call he’d made this morning.
Does this have something to do with Violet James?
Part of me wanted to be straightforward and ask what was wrong, but I had no desire to admit to listening in. And what if I was completely off base and their conversation had nothing to do with me? Then I’d come off as nosy and presumptuous.
Besides, Alec Williams was not a liar.
Right?
A knock interrupted my internal debate. When I opened the door, Alec was on the other side.
“Hey,” he said, stuffing his hands into his front pockets. He was still wearing his khaki shorts, which had dried, but he’d pulled on a fresh shirt and restyled his hair. “You ready? There’s something I want to show you.”
He smiled, and my heart swelled inside my chest.
With thoughts of Stella and the conversation forgotten, I stepped out into the hall. “Lead the way.”
Chapter 14
Alec clearly knew his way around Safe House, because he guided me through the mansion without hesitation. I tried to keep track—right, left, down a flight of stairs, left again, through an arched doorway—but the directions began to blur. Eventually we reached a set of stately looking wooden doors with fancy gold handles, and I felt like I was about to enter someplace important, like the Oval Office or the secret meeting hall of the Illuminati.
Lifting his chin, Alec gestured at the room. “After you.”
My heart picked up again. I wrapped my fingers around one of the ornate handles and opened the door.
At first, all I could see was black. But then my eyes adjusted to the gloom. We were standing outside a massive library—and an oddly shaped one at that. Rows of towering shelves filled with all sorts of titles stretched in all directions, which made determining the room’s exact dimensions difficult. In the center was a collection of armchairs, leather worn dull with use, making it feel like we were visiting a university library instead of someone’s private collection. I guess you needed a lot of books as a historian.
I wandered in the direction of the sitting area, my head tipped back as I took in the space.
“Glad you like it,” Alec said.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t need to,” he answered, his voice tinged with amusement. He nodded toward the far end of the room. “Come on. Tour’s not over.”
As we walked, details emerged from the shadows, the first being an enormous oak desk. It was so solid and heavy looking that I imagined it grew straight out of the polished hardwood floors. There wasn’t an inch of work space because the surface was a cluttered mess. The books were the most noticeable, piled haphazardly like Jenga block towers. There were also enough potted plants—from mini ferns to spiky cacti—to form a small tabletop ecosystem. Perched near the front was a shiny nameplate that read Professor Callum Perry and was surrounded by an assortment of colored-glass paperweights.
Next to the desk was a floor globe and, behind that, a wall of diamond-paned windows. A standing brass telescope pointed up at the sky, but there was nothing to see outside except for darkness. Not even the moon penetrated the thick cloud coverage. Alec turned on a reading lamp, put both hands on my shoulders, and steered me toward the window seat.
“Wait here,” he instructed before disappearing down one of the many aisles.
Taking a spot on the cushion, I noticed a thick book on the seat by the telescope. The binding was battered and worn, so I picked it up and turned to the title page. It wasn’t a novel, but an astronomy book. As I waited for Alec, I flipped through the pages, many of which were dog-eared, but one in particular made me pause. It was a section detailing the constellation Hercules, and in the margins next to its picture, someone had scrawled a note:
You’re the song I sing
You’re in every song
You’re in every word I sing
A constellation of
And my constellation
And my star in the dark
I frowned. The poem was somehow familiar, but also not quite right. I stared at the lines until I recognized the words for what they were—song lyrics. And it wasn’t just any song. This was part of the chorus to the Heartbreakers most recent hit, “Astrophil.”
“Found it!” Alec called, pulling me away from my discovery.
He trotted back into view with a satisfied smile and a paperback clutched in one hand. When he reached the window seat, he sat beside me, his shoulder bumping into mine. In comparison to the first few times we’d sat together, when Alec was careful to put a respectable distance between us, his current ease was so startling that it took me a few seconds to recognize the title.
“Oliver’s uncle is more of a nonfiction guy, but I figured he’d have the classics,” he said, thumbing through To Kill a Mockingbird. “I’ve been meaning to read it ever since you loaned it to me, but”—he hesitated, lips pressed together to suppress a guilty grin—“last week was a little hectic. Wanna start?”
“You mean like right now?” Weren’t we supposed to be watching a movie? Everyone was probably already in the kitchen waiting for us.
“Is that okay?” Alec asked. “Knowing Oliver, he’s picked out a James Bond film, and I’m not in the mood.”
“Well, you already know I’m more of a Mission: Impossible kind of girl,” I said. “Although, I’m not one for reading out loud. Maybe we can just read together silently?”
“That’s fine,” Alec said and turned to the first page.
I looked down and squinted, trying to focus on the opening sentence. It was one of those beautiful first lines, both ominous and deceptive in its simplicity, and if I hadn’t already known it by heart, I wouldn’t have been able to make out the small font. Alec was sitting inches from me, but I scooted closer until our legs were pressed together.
I felt him look at me.
“Sorry,” I muttered, my cheeks prickling with warmth. “I couldn’t see.”
Alec cleared his throat. “Here.” He pressed the book into my hands and moved his arm out of the way, slipping it behind my back and tugging me against him. “That better?”
My body went stiff at the contact. “I… Yeah,” I choked out, almost too flustered to speak. A few seconds slipped by, and I relaxed into his side.
Then we read.
Or, in my case, attempted to.
All I could think about was Alec: the way his arm felt wrapped around me, the smell of his cologne, the warmth of his breath on my neck. I willed myself to focus on the book, but it was no use. At my side, Alec’s fingers played with the hem of my camisole, and each gentle brush sent a shiver up my back. This went on for a couple of minutes until suddenly his fingers stopped. I tilted my head back to see what was wrong and found him watching me. His sharp eyes searched my own, and I lost myself in their color: stone gray, rain blue, and lightning. I’d never seen a more captivating pair of eyes in my life.
“What do you think?” I spoke each word carefully, so I didn’t sound rattled or out of breath, and was relieved when my voice sounded somewhat normal.
His fingers started up again, this time stroking the inside of my wrist, and the simple action made my whole body tremble. “About what?”
“The book.”
Alec paused, and I thought he was trying to come up with a polite way to tell m
e he hated it. “I haven’t been able to get much reading done,” he admitted.
“Why not?”
“Because of you.” He said this plainly and without any reservation, making my heart skip a beat.
I held my breath as he lowered his face toward mine. His eyes fluttered closed, but just before our lips brushed, he pulled back.
“May I?” he asked.
Dear God, yes please! “Mmm-hmm.”
I wasn’t sure he’d heard my response, but then his head dipped down and—
The feel of his lips was staggering. My hands moved, one reaching up to clutch the fabric at his chest, while the other wrapped around him so my fingers could rake the hair at the nape of his neck.
Way too soon for my liking, Alec broke away. His mouth lifted into a half grin, all lopsided and adorable. “Is this okay?”
It was not okay.
It was better than okay.
Beautiful. Wonderful. Amazing.
There wasn’t a word to describe the way his mouth felt on mine. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it, and then there was my breathing—shallow and choppy, like I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs. I was too jumbled on the inside to answer him, so I nodded my head.
His grin grew. “Good.” Then he closed the distance between us again.
This kiss was anything but shy. His lips were hot and demanding, like he’d been waiting for this moment, and when his tongue slipped inside my mouth, I realized I had been waiting too. Alec pushed me back onto the bench so we were lying down, but even with his entire body draped over me, I didn’t feel close enough. When his mouth left mine and trailed softly down my neck, I was a goner. My mind hazed over, and all I knew was that I wanted him.
And just like that, it was over.
Alec pulled away suddenly, like he realized this was moving too fast for a first kiss, and if we didn’t stop soon, we might never.
He sat back, his breathing heavy. “I… Sorry.” His voice was raspy, almost regretful, and he lifted a hand, like he was going to run his fingers through his hair, but then stopped and let it fall back to his side.
“I’m not.” I pushed myself into a sitting position and patted down my curls. There was absolutely nothing for him to apologize about, except maybe for stopping. Or not kissing me sooner.
This must have eased his guilt because we sat there, timidly grinning at each other, until our smiles faded into reflective silence.
Then Alec said, “So my sister,” which was a rather strange conversation starter after a make-out session. “She’s getting married at the end of the month, and I thought that maybe—” His phone buzzed, and he jammed a hand into his pocket instead of finishing his sentence. “Hello?” He paused for whoever was on the other end. “Yeah, sorry. We’ll be down in five.”
“Who was that?” I asked when he hung up.
“Stella. Apparently, everyone is waiting on us.”
A deep blush erupted across my cheeks. For the past five minutes, I’d forgotten anyone else existed. As if he was thinking the same thing, Alec grinned and dragged a hand through his bangs. Had I been standing, my knees would have buckled. He was drop-dead sexy, all swollen lips and messy hair.
Outside, the weather had shifted, and the rhythmic patter of the rain against the window helped ease my pulse to a normal rate.
“Well,” he said, standing and holding out a hand to help me up. “We should probably go. Otherwise, Stella’s going to send a search party.”
• • •
We didn’t return to the kitchen.
Instead, Alec led me down another flight of stairs to the basement level, and we entered a large entertainment room. To our left was an air hockey and pool table, and beyond that, an over-the-top flat screen accompanied by movie theater seating. On the other side was a bar with a sparkling granite countertop, glass shelves displaying colorful liquor bottles, and a row of stools. In the corner, a vintage jukebox was blasting “Pour Some Sugar on Me.”
A chorus of cheers caught my attention, and I turned toward the small alcove sitting area. Our friends were gathered on two overstuffed couches, and everyone was laughing and pointing at Xander. I watched as he shrugged and took a long chug from the drink in his hand.
“What are they doing?” I asked.
“Playing Most Likely.”
“What’s that?”
“Watch.”
“Your turn!” Stella announced, elbowing Asha in the side. The two were squashed next to each other on the bigger couch, Oliver and Boomer on their respective sides.
Asha displayed a wide grin and pushed a wisp of hair from her eyes that had escaped her braid. “Okay, let me think.” Pausing, she looked around until her gaze landed on me. Her grin stretched, and she asked, “Who’s most likely to keep someone else’s secret?”
On the count of three, everyone turned to me and Alec. Alec’s bandmates and Stella were pointing fingers at him, while Boomer and Asha were pointing at me. There was another chorus of laugher. JJ, who was seated closest to us, leaned over the back of the couch and held out his cup to Alec.
“That’s four for you, and two for Felicity,” he said, grinning at us both.
Stoic as usual, Alec accepted the drink and took four gulps. With a grimace, he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and passed the glass to me. Before drinking, I made the mistake of sniffing the contents. My nose burned at the smell. It was vodka, which I hated, but everyone was watching me, so I took a deep breath and two small sips.
“Ugh.” My mouth puckered, and I shoved the drink back into JJ’s hand. “That’s awful. Is there anything in there besides alcohol?”
“Does ice count?” he asked, swallowing back his laughter.
I shook my head at him. “That’s disgusting.”
Across the room, the jukebox flipped records, and another eighties song started playing. The tune was familiar, something my mom would put on when she cleaned the house, but I couldn’t think of the title.
“Should we sit down?” Alec asked, loud enough for only me to hear.
His hand found the small of my back, and he guided me over to the last place left to sit, a small loveseat. He plopped down first, and as I shuffled by him toward the other cushion, he took my wrist and tugged me down beside him, nearly in his lap. Boomer’s eyes went round while Stella nudged Asha in excitement, but no one was more shocked than me. My cheeks suddenly felt flush, and I wasn’t sure if it was an effect of the vodka I’d drunk or Alec’s not-so-subtle move.
It was quiet as everybody stared at us, but then Oliver said, “So, you two get lost or something?”
JJ’s lips curled in hilarity.
“I was showing Felicity the library,” Alec explained.
Among other things…
I could feel Asha’s gaze fixed on me, but if I looked at her, my eyes would give away everything that had happened between Alec and me.
Not now, I wanted to tell her. Not with an audience.
“You sure, man?” JJ asked. “Your hair’s a little messy.”
This wasn’t true—Alec had smoothed back the stray strands before leaving the library—but he fell for the ruse, his hand flying to his bangs to make sure they were in place, and his friends all roared with laughter.
“You need to be careful with that one,” JJ said to Alec, nodding his head at me. “You don’t want her to suck your soul out.”
“Oh great. A redhead joke,” I said, letting out a long sigh. I wasn’t as much annoyed with him as surprised it had taken him this long to crack one.
“Don’t worry. I have plenty more in the works up here,” he said, tapping a finger to his temple. “I’ve been waiting for the opportune moment. Is it true that you earn a freckle for every soul you steal?”
With an eye roll, I turned to Oliver. “Hey, I found a constellation book
on the window seat in the library. There were song lyrics written inside. Is that yours?”
“Oh,” he answered, his eye getting big. “Um, yeah. It is. Totally forgot about that.”
“A constellation book?” Stella asked, suddenly curious. “What song?”
Reaching an arm over his shoulder, Oliver rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s your song,” he told her. “I stayed here for a while after we… After everything went down…” His voice trailed off.
I must have brought up something personal or quite possibly painful. I never intended to make him feel uncomfortable. It hadn’t even crossed my mind that I could make someone like Oliver Perry feel that way. But I was relieved that everyone’s attention was diverted from my prolonged absence with Alec.
Stella smiled at him and snuggled against his side. “I’d love to see it.”
“Yeah, sure.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’ll show you later, okay?”
“As adorable as you two are,” JJ said, reaching for the vodka bottle set out on the table, “I’d rather not watch any more of this lovefest. Let’s move this game along.” He looked straight at me. “If you two are going to play, it’s time to pick your poison. I make outstanding vodka shots, but the bar is fully stocked as well.”
I played with my watch around my wrist and didn’t answer. It wasn’t like I was a prude. I knew that lots of people my age drank, and I took no issue with them doing so. Sometimes, if Asha dragged me to a party one her cross-country friends was throwing, I’d have a beer. But that didn’t happen often.
In the year before she ran away, Rose made a habit of stumbling into our room during the early hours of the morning, wasted from partying. If Mom caught her drunk, it led to screaming matches, so that left thirteen-year-old me to hold back my sister’s hair while she puked, change her clothes, and help her into bed. After taking care of her all those times, I didn’t find drinking appealing.
Unconsciously, Oliver came to my rescue. “What about the movie?” he asked, frowning in the direction of the TV.
