Page 49

Daisy, on the other hand, ignores the lack of air in the room and smirks at Haze. “I told you I’d have to look elsewhere if you weren’t going to give it to me.” She steps down and walks between us, hips swaying.

Ghost and Xanthe stand there. He’s looking at her, and she’s looking down at the floor.

“Put me down, Haze,” I order, wanting to speak to her.

As soon as my feet touch the floor, I go to her, entwining my arm with hers and pulling her toward the kitchen. I look back at Haze to see him and Ghost having a low, heated conversation. Ghost pulls something out of his pocket and hands it to Haze.

Ghost’s eyes follow Xanthe until we are out of view.

When we step into the kitchen, I hear a loud bang, like someone’s thrown something.

“What was that?” I ask her, opening the refrigerator and getting her one of Ora’s pineapple juices.

“Nothing,” she replies, worrying her bottom lip. “I didn’t know Ghost?—”

“And Daisy? I think this is the first time they’ve hooked up. Ghost doesn’t do repeats,” I say, wincing as the words leave my lips. Ora told me she’d caught Ghost watching Xanthe the last time she came here for a party, but I didn’t think anything of it until now.

He must want her.

Not a surprise—she’s hot, sweet, and smart.

But her reaction to him?

That is a surprise.

Ghost is unhinged.

He’ll eat her alive.

When her brown eyes glance up at me, filled with what looks like disappointment, I realize maybe she would enjoy it.

“You like him,” I whisper, and she swallows hard, opening her juice and taking a sip. She opens her mouth to reply when Ghost steps inside the kitchen, taking her in.

“Xanthe?” His tone is pure gravel.

She keeps her eyes on me, ignoring him.

“Eyes on me, little one. She’s not going to save you,” he growls, and my eyes widen.

That commanding, deep tone.

Little one?

Shit, she’s in trouble.

Hell, I want to give him my eyes, and I’m low-key terrified of him.

Xanthe looks up at him, following the command, and Ghost, the same Ghost I’ve been told hates to touch, reaches down and gently cups her face. For a moment, she leans into his palm and soaks in his touch.

I suddenly feel like I’m intruding as the two of them stare at each other. I’m about to slowly back out of the room when Xanthe suddenly shakes her head, like she’s clearing her thoughts, and moves away from his touch. “Leave me alone, Ghost. I thought you were different. Clearly, I was wrong.”

Oh, he’s different, all right.

Different like a serial killer.

She stands, and I follow, threading her fingers with mine. “Come on, let’s go have a dance. It’s a party, after all.”

She nods. “Ghost should leave. Looks like he’s partied enough already.”