She kisses me again and our mouths stay locked as we give into every base desire we feel for each other. I’m so deep inside her I feel like I’m taking root somewhere in her soul, and with each desperate thrust, she’s climbing a little deeper into mine.
After we come, she tips her head back against the tile and breathes, “Why am I any different?”
I wrap her so tightly in my arms I nearly crush her. “Because you’re the one who made them go away.”
?
Lilah’s sweaty palm is pressed against mine as the show comes back from commercial and the stage lights flash. The suspense music cues and Spit and Polish says it’s time to find out which of our four finalists is The Voice. Shiloh and the three others stand in the spotlights, trying to look like they’re not flipping out. He announces fourth place, then third. Neither are Shiloh.
With each name, Lilah’s grip tightens. When I look at her, she’s stone, not even blinking, but I can feel her tremor.
“And then there were two,” Spit and Polish says, exaggeratedly slowly, dragging out every syllable. “Essie Franklin, Shiloh Luck, one of you is The Voice.” He pauses a moment while the cheers drown out the dramatic background music. “It’s time to find out who it is!” He backs away, giving center stage to the contestants. “The winner of The Voice is…”
One second.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
“Oh, God,” Lilah whimpers from beside me. I glance at her and her head is bowed, her eyes pressed tightly shut.
“Shiloh Luck!” Spit and Polish bellows.
As the building erupts in applause, Lilah’s legs collapse and she drops into chair, her face in her hands.
I lower myself to my seat and pull her into my arms. “Congrats.”
She yanks her head up, panic filling her eyes. “It’s my song.”
“That’s good, right?”
She nods and stands, staring at her friend as Spit and Polish babbles some nonsense over the roar of the crowd. “It’s awesome…and scary.”
I pull her to my shoulder again and she shakes in my arms. Spit and Polish is still talking, and I catch a few words. “Two seasons in a row….sixteen-year-old winners…youngest ever…”
As his words sink through my consciousness and I really hear them, that warning buzz starts under my skin…the same one I felt every time I was in the field in Afghanistan. My internal alarm system. I peel Lilah off me and look at her face, tears caught in the corners of those silver eyes.
“Shiloh’s sixteen?” I ask, the buzz turning to the crackle of an electric fence.
The shocked elation on her face drops instantly into dread, and her panicked eyes widen. “I wanted to tell you…I meant to, but…” She trails off with a cringe.
“You’re sixteen…” I say, my lungs constricting so hard almost no sound comes out.
When I get no answer except an apologetic squint, I drop into my seat and scrub a hand over my face. I just spent all night fucking a sixteen-year-old’s brains out. “Jesus Christ.”
“Bran…” she says, lowering herself into her seat. “It doesn’t matter, right? It’s just a number.”
I rip my head out of my hand and glare at her. “A number that will get me fucking arrested!”
The crowd is still going wild for the new Voice. I hardly notice them.
“Do you have any idea how old I am, Lilah?” I growl, the animal inside ripping free of its restraints, freeing the rage I’ve fought so hard to keep buried. “I’m twenty-fucking-six.”
She swallows and more tears leak over her lashes.
As Shiloh launches into the song Lilah wrote, I notice people are shooting us glances. This is my worst fucking nightmare—a crowded set full of people witnessing my undoing.
I stand and yank Lilah up by the wrist. “We’re going.”
She doesn’t resist as I drag her up the aisle and out the back doors. I let her go once we’re away from the sea of bodies and storm to my car, barely caring if she’s following.
“You said you were twins,” I spit when we reach the Torino and I find her behind me.
She shakes her head and there’s fight in her expression now. She’s nearly as pissed as me, but she has no right to be. “You said we were twins.”
“But you didn’t correct me,” I say, nearly yanking my door off the hinges.
She shrugs. “We were flirting. I didn’t think it mattered how old I was.”
“And last night, when we were fucking?” I yell over the roof of the car. “You didn’t think it mattered then either?”
She pulls open her door and slides in without answering.
I drop into my seat and tear out of the garage. We’re on the highway before she speaks again. “No one’s ever looked at me the way you do. I’ve never felt how you make me feel.” She pauses, swallows then takes a deep breath. “I started to tell you the other night at the bar…but then I couldn’t because…” She tips her head back and stares at the roof. “I was in love with you and…I didn’t want you to quit looking at me like that.”