Page 19 of Midnight Kiss
The predator seeks only to ensnare you.
The door opened, and I jerked my head upward. Morgan sailed into the kitchen, humming under her breath as she bobbed her head in time to the music blaring through her head phones. “What?” she yelled.
“You scared me.” I placed my notepad inside the book and then shut it.
“Huh?” Morgan whipped her headphones off and let them rest around her neck.
“Nothing.”
“Good, because it’s almost time for movie night!” Morgan held up a six pack of beers. “Did you order the pizza yet? I’m going to get started on the popcorn.”
“No, Mike’s bringing the pizza.”
Morgan groaned. “You’re kidding me. He’s coming over?”
“He’s our friend, Morgan.”
“He’s your friend,” Morgan said. “I find him super annoying. I mean, he’s a nice guy and all, but he’s too nice. I get the feeling he’s only being nice because he wants to get into your pants.”
“Morgan!”
“I’m serious. He never talks to me unless you’re around,” Morgan said.
“Okay, well I’ll bear that in mind next time. I just thought it would be nice for the three of us to hang out. You might wind up liking him if?—”
“Aren’t you dating the mysterious Mr. Knight?” Morgan said. “Why spend time with Mike at all.”
“You heard the part where I said we’re just friends, right?”
“And you heard the part where I said he wants your?—”
I raised a hand. “Popcorn.”
“Finnneeee. But don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Morgan said. “Homie is gagging for it.”
“Ew.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Morgan grinned.
I took my book to my bedroom and placed it on my white sheets before moving to my bedroom window to peer out at the sky. It was inky blue, dotted with stars, the moon hanging gibbous and yellow.
Where was Alex?
Was he on the other side of the world right now? Doing whatever it was he did? Stock trading or … buying property?
I barely knew the guy, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
If you feel that you cannot trust your thoughts, that your desire to be near it is consuming you, then you are under its spell.
I glanced back at the book then scoffed at myself. Ridiculous. This was a cool journal written by a very inspired Frenchman, but that didn’t mean it was real, no matter how much I wanted it to be.
Maybe that made me weird, but the thought of being swept up in a world that wasn’t mine … Yeah, it was the reason I wrote books in the first place.
I stared out of the window for a while longer, at the apartment building opposite, the lights on in some of the windows, off in others. Strange how you could live in a city bustling with people and still feel so alone.
A knock rattled the front door, and I entered the living room to find Michael stepping into our apartment. He sent me an enigmatic grin, lifting two boxes of pizza. “Guess who came bearing gifts?”
“Well, you certainly ain’t Santa Claus,” Morgan said, her tone flat.