Page 27 of Bewitched By the Phantom
“Enemies can’t enjoy kissing each other?” he asks, a grin splitting his lips.
I snort. “They don’t usually enjoy that, no.”
He presses another kiss to my palm. “That’s the thing about enemies though. They write the rules. No one tells them how to live.”
“You’re . . . not wrong.” I gently pull my hand back and he lets me, his eyes hungry for more. But I have a guitar to completely restring and I really shouldn’t have my wicked way with this man despite the high of performing with him. “I need to get those silver strings off my guitar,” I murmur.
“I’ll help you,” he declares, reaching for the guitar. He smiles at me, and somehow, despite the darkness that swirls around him, he’s more sunshine than Raoul can ever hope to be.
“Only if you don’t have anywhere else to be,” I muse, reaching for a new pack of strings.
“Oh, angel,” he purrs, “there’s nowhere else as important as being right here with you.”
My chest squeezes. I should say something snappy back. Maybe be an asshole, but instead, I find myself flushing and looking away. Something about Erik just feels . . . right.
Despite the weirdness. Despite the unusual ticks.
Something about him feels so familiar, I let him stay in my room long after we finish stringing the guitar. Even if that seems like it’s a massive mistake.
Chapter
Sixteen
At some point, the rest of the band returns to the apartment and Erik leaves. My guitar is now sporting new strings and is perfectly tuned. Part of me misses the way his guitar had felt in my hands, but that’s silly. Cynthia has been with me for years and it’s one of my most prized possessions. My Phantom had helped me get it when my old guitar had gotten cracked by a drunk asshole at a bar trying to hit his friend over the head with it. He’d knocked his friend out in the process. But after holding Erik’s guitar, it felt more familiar than Cynthia does. Weird.
Ted gathers all of us an hour later. They’d apparently searched for Trixie more and there’s still no sign of her so they’d filed a missing person report. Her band is super worried, but Ted convinces them to stay for the competition because, “Trixie would have wanted that.” I think that’s a terrible solution when their friend is missing, but though we’d all told them that, they decide to stay.
I’m sitting in the general area where most people hang out. I’m not the only one here. Plenty of people use this space to eat and talk and just do their own thing. I pull out my phone and open the chat to Phantom.
Are you ever going to tell me who you are?I hit send and wait.
After a few seconds, the little bubbles pop up. I wait, watching them carefully, before his answer comes through.
What are you willing to do to know me?
My fingers fly over my screen.Anything.
A voice memo comes through and I click play. He’s humming a melody low in his throat in the voice message. It’s a new one, pretty, seductive. I play it again when it ends, and then again, before I’m quickly scribbling down the notes so I don’t lose them.
Write us a song. Perhaps I’ll sing it with you, he sends after the voice memo.
“What are you doing?”
I nearly jump out of my skin. I was so engrossed in my scribbling that I didn’t even notice Raoul appear beside me. Looking up at him, I scowl.
“I’m writing. Why?”
“Who is that you’re texting?” he asks.
I tuck my phone away immediately. “That’s not any of your business. I don’t know what’s going on with you lately, but?—”
“I heard he was in your room,” Raoul says, watching me carefully.
“So what if he was?” I growl.
He straightens. “Did you fuck him?”
Part of me starts to deny it, mostly because it’s the truth but also because I don’t particularly want the rumors to fly. They’re already flying after our performance. But the other part of me, the one that likes to stir shit, makes the decision before the rational side can.
