I glared at him.
“Sixty seconds. If I’m right, you’ll owe me a favor," he said.
That meant I’d still be alive? I tried to think back to what he’d said.I bet you that I’ll have you screaming my name in 60 seconds.I had no plans on screaming in the bathroom. Honestly, the odds of me crying were significantly higher since he’d ruined my dress. This was an easy bet to make. “And if I win?”
“Not happening. But in the slim chance that it does…I’ll owe you a favor.”
A favor from Rob didn’t sound like a bad thing to me. Maybe I could ask him to help get Isabella off my back. Or get him to let me know what James thought my secret was. Or get his bestie to stop leaving me notes. “Deal.” I put my hand out for him to shake.
Instead of taking my hand, he leaned forward. For a second I thought he was going to kiss me.Screaming his name.Maybe I would scream, but it wouldn’t have anything to do with him being a good kisser and wanting more. Because I had zero freaking plans to find out if he was or not. I was already a possible brother kisser. I wasn’t planning on doubling my odds of that being true. I was about to reach my hand out to stop him, but he reached out first and lightly pushed me.
I fell backward into a dark room, landing hard on my ass. I glared at him standing in the hallway. He had the audacity to laugh. And then he slammed the door shut, bathing me in darkness.
“Rob!” I yelled and stood up, banging my palms against the door. My hands stumbled in the darkness, searching for the doorknob.I tried to turn it, but it didn’t budge. He must have been holding the doorknob from the outside. “Let me out!”
I remembered earlier when I thought there were coffins in the bedrooms. Now it was all I could think about. The darkness felt like it was swallowing me whole. Now the tears that I thought were more likely than my screams started to burn my eyes. “Rob, open the door!”
I heard him laughing on the other side.
“Open the fucking door!” I slammed the door with my fists now, my tears cascaded down my cheeks.
Something brushed against my shoulder.
I screamed at the top of my lungs and threw a punch into the darkness. My fist collided with solid rock.
A grunt.
No, not a rock.I’d read Twilight. I knew vampires’ muscles felt more like stone than flesh. God, I was going to die. Just not the same way the Caldwell’s great great grandmother had. I was going to get eaten by a vampire. I screamed again and a strong hand clamped over my mouth.
I bit down on the vampire’s palm.
“Jesus.” He removed his hand. “Brooklyn, calm down. It’s just me.”
Matt.I’d recognize that voice anywhere. Even in the pitch black when all I could think about was vampires and death. Every ounce of me wanted to throw my arms around Matt’s strong shoulders and have him protect me. But he wasn’t protecting me. He was trying to scare me. He was part of whatever sick game Rob was playing. So instead of finding solace in his arms, I punched him again.
“Ow. Would you stop doing that?” He grabbed both my hands in one of his and pulled me into his chest. He was breathing fast, his cinnamon-scented exhales intoxicating me.
I tried to move my hands, but he kept them locked in his. “What is wrong with you?”
“You’re still ignoring my notes. I needed to…talk to you. To see you.”
I had nothing to talk to him about. And if he wanted to see me, wouldn’t the lights be on? He literally had his friend push me into this room. This was…this was kidnapping. God, he was such a jerk face. “We have nothing to talk about.”
“So you felt nothing after our kiss?”
“You mean the kiss you stole?” I couldn’t see him in the dark room, but he laughed and I could easily envision his smirk. His stupid, sexy smirk.
“You gave it to me.” He leaned forward, his warm breath on my neck. “Just like you’ll give me the next one.” He lightly kissed the side of my neck.
I wanted to tell him to go screw himself. To demand him to let go of my hands. Instead I stayed completely still. I closed my eyes, savoring the feeling of his lips on my skin. I was mad. And scared. And for some reason desperate for his touch. I couldn’t tell him to stop. Because I didn’t want him to.
“And the next.” His lips lightly traced up my neck. “And the one after that. Because I know you feel this too.” His lips hovered over mine. Waiting.
I swallowed hard.
“Tell me I’m wrong.” He let go of my hands. “Tell me you felt nothing and I’ll leave you alone.”
I felt like I was on a sinking ship. A burning sinking ship. I was going under. But there was something about drowning with him that was a lot more appealing than drowning alone. Because that’s what I’d been doing. Slowly drowning alone for weeks.