“I see and feel everything,” I say, giving her what she wants. I reach out and take her hand, turn it over. I trace my fingers up her inner forearm, marveling at her smooth skin, the near transparency of it in the moonlight. The light dusting of freckles. The slight blue-green veins beneath her skin. The rushing blood.

I press my thumb over the pulse in her wrist. Her heartbeat doesn’t match mine. My pulse is racing where hers is steady.

“There’s this heightened awareness,” I continue. “Things that should be important just aren’t. Like how long we’ve been standing here…I haven’t counted…I don’t care.” I meet her eyes. “All that matters is right now. This moment. It feels like…”

“What?” she presses.

“Like life. The reason we live.”

She’s looking at me like she wants to devour me—but it’s not me she desires, it’s her craving for this feeling, these elusive emotions, that she wants to experience for herself. It’s like trying to explain the taste of the sweetest frosting to someone with no taste buds. An impossibility.

Blakely will never be able to experience these emotions.

Not without me—not if I don’t succeed.

“That’s intense,” she says, a delicate curve lifting her lips. “We should get out of here—”

“Wait.” I grasp her hand tighter, lace our fingers together. “Just a while longer. Stay with me in this moment.”

I expect her to mock me, deride me in some way to cheapen my sentiments. Because for a person like Blakely, it’s her only defense. Being this close has to make her uncomfortable. Only what I glimpse in her expression isn’t derision; it’s pure curiosity.

She allows me to keep her here a moment longer, just us, the sounds of the city muffling the constant ticking in my head, her strange draw tamping down the urge to check my watch.

As I stare into her eyes, I could get lost. I’m being drawn into her, her gravity so strong it’s the equivalent of being drawn in by a black hole. A cold and hollow void with no light and no warmth, a place where time doesn’t exist. And in that void, I would lose any will to care.

This is the moment I know she’s perfect.

12. White Rabbit

12

White Rabbit

Blakely

During his encounter with Ericson at the MMA fight, Alex was able to secure an invite to the attic of The Plaza for tonight.

I was as shocked as he was about this development. What is it about Alex that people like Ericson Daverns gravitate to? Is it his vulnerable nature? Neurotic tics? His apparent cluelessness? Is Ericson so bored by his privileged life that he feels Alex will be an exciting challenge, or does he really enjoy his awkward company?