Page 127 of The Darkest Note

I stalk forward, ready to slam his face into the next century.

Redhead beats me to it. She smacks his hands away and steps right into his space. “Leave us alone. We’ll take care of our own business from now on.”

He opens his mouth as if he’ll call to her, but I stare him dead in the eyes. Whether it’s the warning in my expression or the finality of her tone, but something convinces him to back the hell off.

Redhead is already a good distance ahead of me. I have to lengthen my stride to catch up with her.

“How did you know I was here?” she asks, not slowing down.

“I paid the lounge to set this up.”

She stops in her tracks. The eyes she pins on me are dark. There’s something wild about her tonight. I heard it in her music, when her fingers were banging on the keys like she had something to prove. And I see it right here, in the wrinkle between her brow and the tension in her lips. If anything, the music was only a glimmer of the chaos inside her. The chaos I feel in my own chest.

“So you really are a stalker.”

The words aren’t said in fear.

I take courage from that.

“Like I told that guy back there—” The guy who I really hope isn’t her boyfriend. Because, as I stated earlier, she’s mine now. “I’m your number one fan.”

“Thin line between that and a psycho.” She turns the bend, heading toward the parking lot.

Her fire makes something deep inside me come alive.

I need her.

It’s less of a thought and more of a physical reaction.

“Do you generally go around kissing psychos?” I ask, hot on her tail.

Her heels skid against the pavement. Her red hair swishes around her cheeks. She’s wearing a regular white blouse and black pants. Simple. Elegant. It reminds me a little of Cadence—

I shake my head to loosen the thought.

I’m here with the girl I want. The girl who moves me.

Nothing and no one else matters.

She purses her lips. “Is that what you’re doing? Getting revenge?”

“Why’d you stand me up that night?” I ask, getting closer to her. The fragrance of her perfume floats to me. It’s subtle and sweet. Like sunshine and vanilla. Like Cadence.

I press my eyes together and punch that thought in the face.

This is Redhead.

Redhead.

Not Cadence.

“What night?” she asks, tilting her head and batting her eyelashes innocently.

My insides light up in anticipation. She wants to play games? Fine. I’ll give her as much trouble as she’s giving me.

“You owe me a date, sweetheart.”

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t owe you anything.”

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