Page 60 of Petrify

“Oh, nothing.” He smiles sheepishly. “I just thought that maybe you’d be free for a little while.”

“I have to go,” I say, glancing toward the hall. “I need to practice.” My watch says it’s half past six. A little too early, but the extra practice wouldn’t hurt.

“But dinner?—”

“I’m not hungry.” I flash him a smile, and I know it looks fake, but I can’t be bothered. “Catch me tomorrow?”

To his credit, he deflates only a little. “Sure. Or maybe I could listen to you play? I’ll stay quiet, I swear.” He’s undeterred.

I’m already halfway up the first flight of stairs. “You’d be too distracting.”

“You think I’m distracting?” I can hear his shit-eating grin.

My eyeroll is involuntary. “In your dreams, Reece.”

Chapter 29

The Ghost

I am waitingin the practice room, so when she arrives, I am the first thing she sees. She gasps a little, then quickly shuts the door behind her. Locking it.

“Afraid you’ll be seen with me?” I stand from my place on the couch.

She hasn’t moved any further into the room. “No.” A pause. “Yes.” Her deep brown eyes widen the closer I step.

“Which is it?”

“Yes.” She licks her lips, the movement automatic—but it makes me want to crush her against the door and shove my tongue into her mouth. To take her right here, on the floor. Make her cry out loud enough that everyone will hear and know the Ghost has his hands on her.

She only cowers a little when I stop before her. “Because I don’t want to leave yet,” she says.

“And why would you leave?”

“They might throw me out if I doanythingwrong.”

I shake my head, slowly. Lean closer, because I can’t help but breathe her in. “Don’t worry about that.”

“So I should just trust you?” She peers up at me through her long lashes.

I’m a little insulted at her skepticism. “Yes.”

“I don’t know you.” She steps around me, making her way to the piano. My music waits for her on the stand, a few of the measures tweaked, but she doesn’t yet notice. “I know nothing about you. And yet you say I shouldtrustyou.”

“You trust me enough to fuck you.” It comes out a growl.

“You tell me I should be afraid of you?—”

“Yes,” I say, grabbing her arm and wrenching her back toward me. Her eyes widen, hands falling to my chest as if to push me away. But she doesn’t. She won’t. “Because it’s the smart thing to do. But trust that I will give you everything I’ve promised.”

Her face flushes to that pretty crimson color I love. “That’s the thing. I don’t know how I’m supposed to believe you. I want to—” The words catch in her throat, and suddenly she’s clutching at me. “I want to trust you,” she admits.

Something cracks inside of my chest.

For a moment, she looks like a frail, young girl in my arms. Fragile and easy to shatter to pieces. But then she blinks and the realheris back. Like a spider’s web, seemingly delicate but deceptively resilient. Pliable.

I flick my eyes toward the piano. “The music. Play it, and you’ll get what you want.”

When she sits at the bench, my stomach clenches with anticipation. Her body is sweet, but her music is, too. She studies the new sheet with our song on it, revised and rewritten with all of our adjustments.Adagiowritten at the top. And, again,For you.