Page 9 of Hidden With You

He paused, the word haunting him. She couldn’t be much more than twenty-two. Maybe twenty-three. A girl, not a woman. At least not compared to him. He’d turned forty-four last week, so what the hell did he think he was doing fantasizing about this girl? This kid.

He’d seen her youth the first moment he’d glimpsed her, the girl in gold. He’d seen it, and it hadn’t mattered. He’d only seen her. Only wanted her.

But now, here in this fairytale world, what he craved seemed ridiculous. Wrong, even. She looked like an innocent princess sitting outside the castle. And he was hardly Prince Charming.

“Did you change your mind?”

The words were simple, and she offered no explanation as to what she meant. But he knew. He heard the part she hadn’t said: Did you change your mind about me? About what you want?

He started to say that he had. That she might be of age, but she was still far too young for him. But when he met her eyes, he saw pain. Before, on the patio, she’d seemed to glow with energy and exuberance, like the Fountain of Youth incarnate. Now it was if she’d shed a costume, her youth stripped away.

He saw darkness now. The weight of a life that overwhelmed the years she’d spent on this earth. She was older than her years, he thought. And maybe she was younger, too.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” he said honestly.

“You’ve been watching me. You must have had a reason. That’s why you came, isn’t it?”

His chest tightened with the realization that she was fully aware that he’d been watching her. Then loosened again when he heard the full meaning hidden in her words: She’d been watching him, too.

He took a step toward her. “What if I told you I’m not sure why I came?”

Her smile was an invitation. “Maybe you came to be alone, like I did. Maybe you came to be alone with me.”

He knew he should just walk away. He had enough darkness; he didn’t need to take on hers.

But he told himself there was no harm in talking. “Yeah,” he said, taking one step toward her. “Maybe I did.”