Page 40 of Shadow Dance

He kisses the other side of my neck, giving me a little nip, then grabs his keys. “Don’t wait up.”

“’Kay.” As soon as I hear the front door close, I wipe the kisses off and march over to Jaime’s.

“What’s up?” he asks with an expectant smile. “You looking for more weed?”

“No! What do I look like?” Scoffing, I fold my arms. “I think we should make s’mores and watch a scary movie.”

He pauses, seeming to consider my proposal.

“C’mon, it’s spooky season,” I cajole. “It’ll be fun.”

“Okay, but we’re making the s’mores in the toaster oven,” he says. “It’s easier.”

“That’s not very nostalgic,” I say.

“Nostalgic would be a campfire,” he says. “And we’re definitely not doing that. Anyway, we always made them in the toaster oven back in the day.”

“Fine,” I relent.

“And we’ll watch the movie here.”

“Oh.” Surprised, I look past him into his living space. I never really paid attention, but the TV here is nearly as enormous as the one in the main house. “Okay, but why?”

“There are no cameras here,” he says slowly. Meaningfully. There’s a hint of challenge in his eyes when he says this, like he’s putting the ball in my court.

My heart gives an anxious thump. There are only two reasons Callum would leave me alone in the company of another man this often. One, he’s deluded himself into thinking I’d never cheat like he does, whether from fear or devotion I’m not sure. And two, he never sees Jaime and I joking around the way we do when we’re on our own. Our behavior around the others remains distant and polite. He has no idea we’ve become friends.

That would definitely change if he saw us chumming it up and watching movies together.

“That makes sense,” I breathe, nodding.

And later, when my hand hits his as we reach for popcorn at the same time, the rush it gives me is scarier than the movie we’re watching.Our buttery fingers slide together for a second before I pull back, blushing in the semi-darkness.

Jaime pauses the movie. “Sorry, I'm being a pig.”

“We’re both being pigs,” I say wryly, thinking about the munchies we’ve blown through tonight. “I haven’t smoked in a while.”

He chuffs softly, amused, running his non-buttery hand through his hair. “You thirsty? I’m gonna re-up on my water.”

But I’m looking at his hand as it threads through the strands of his hair. That hair is one of the things I think about when I get off … naughty, wicked thoughts when it’s just me and the shower head. I imagine pulling on his hair, running my hands through it. I imagine it tickling my skin, maybe my thighs. “You’ve got really nice hair,” I blurt.

Huffing softly, he stands up with our empty glasses. “Thanks. I go for touch-ups at a salon downtown while you’re in ballet.”

I blink, my brain still muddled from the last bowl we shared. “Really?”

“No, Maeve.” He walks into the kitchenette. “I just hit up the barber every now and then.”

“You’re a jerk,” I complain, watching him refill our water glasses.

“No, you’re just gullible.”

I throw popcorn at him when he sits. “I’m not gullible. I just trust you.”

He catches the kernels, popping them into his mouth. “Good. You should.”

Chapter 11

Jaime

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