So why did I want him to suggest I stay?

He was turning me into a neurotic freak. Maybe it was better I was moving out.

“When will I see you again?” he asked.

“Wednesday is my first day off.” Hmm. That was a long time to not see each other. In a week I’d gotten used to him being around, and I felt a pout coming on.

“Text me your new address and I’ll pick you up after work, and we can do something. That cool?”

“Yep.” Sort of. I guess it would have to be.

“Good night.” He kissed my forehead. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

So apparently I was supposed to sleep in my room. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Actually, yes, I did. I thought it sucked.

I really hated it when he closed the door to his room and I realized how dark and quiet the house was. I got up and checked the front and back doors. The front had been locked already but the kitchen wasn’t, and I did a quick search of the closets and the pantry to make sure no one was lurking there, having snuck in while the door was unlocked all afternoon. Then I closed the living room window because really, anyone could just pop the screen out and climb in. It was huge, unlike the bedroom windows.

Trying to watch TV, I bit my fingernails and told myself there was no such thing as demons and that the weird scratching sound was the cat who came and went at random through the pet door. He must be back in the house, wandering around. My feet were on the coffee table and I was hot now that I’d closed the window, yet I shivered like something had touched the back of my neck. Spinning around, I expected to see the cat on the back of the couch, but nothing was there.

Suddenly the room had shadows everywhere, and the kitchen looked like a big yawning black hole, the back door glass giving off a weird reflective shimmer.

The scratching got louder, and I went from slightly unnerved to scared on a level of pure panic.

When the scratch was followed by what I swear was a sinister whisper, I shut off the TV, jumped off the couch, and went down the hall, my back sliding against the wall so nothing could attack me from behind. Reaching Riley’s room, my heart racing, I whispered, “Riley?”

He didn’t answer.

I lightly knocked. “Riley?” I had to keep it down. I didn’t want the demon to know where I was precisely. Or the serial killer. Whichever it was.

When he still didn’t answer, I turned the knob and slowly pushed the door open. “Riley?”

“Yeah?”

Thank God. He wasn’t dead in his bed.

“I heard a noise. In the living room. Like a disembodied voice whispering.” I didn’t wait for his response. I was already moving into his room, closing the door behind me and locking it. “I think someone is in the house.”

He sighed. “No one is in the house.”

“How do you know?” I tripped over something in the dark and stumbled into the bed. “Fuck.” I crawled up onto it, accidentally putting my knee down on Riley’s shin.

“Ow, Jesus, what are you doing?”

“I’m scared.” I started climbing Riley, trying to get over him to the free side of the bed. We were a tangle of limbs, my balance off as we rocked slightly. “Why are we moving? OMG, is this a waterbed? Who the hell has waterbeds?”

“People whose mothers were fourteen in the eighties and in love with hair bands.” The light from his phone suddenly glowed in the dark. I could see his squinting eyes looking less than pleased.

My elbow went into his gut and he made an oomph sound as the air left his lungs. “Sorry. But there’s someone in the house.”

Riley helped me off of him, tucking me along his side. “There is no one in the house.”

“You keep saying that but you have no way of knowing if that’s true or not. I heard scratching.”

“That’s the cat.”

Pulling the sheet over me, I threw my leg over his, wanting the reassurance of his masculine body. He could probably beat the crap out of a serial killer. Or at least stall him so we could escape. A demon I wasn’t sure about, but I still felt a lot better being next to him. “Cats don’t whisper.”

Riley sighed. His phone went dark, and I could hear him set it down on the nightstand before sitting up. “I’m never taking you to see a horror movie ever again.”

Thank God. I grabbed his arm. “What are you doing?” I knew I was being insane, but I couldn’t help it. I was scared and I didn’t want him to be killed. Nor did I want to be left alone.

“I’m going to check the house to give you peace of mind and to give me sleep.”

I started to get up, too, but he added, “Just stay here.”

“That’s what they always tell the female protagonist to do in movies and that’s when she gets killed.”

“You’re not coming with me. Just lay down and I’ll be back in two minutes.”

I didn’t lay down, but I did obey him, despite my desperate urge to jump on his back like a baby monkey. That would hinder him from fighting off a killer though, so I cursed my stupidity for leaving my phone in the living room and rested on my knees, peering through the open doorway, trying to see and hear what was happening. I was wobbling from the waterbed, but Riley flicked the lights on as he went, which helped my state of mind.

In a minute, he was back, filling the door frame with his near naked sexiness before he flicked off the hall light. “There is nothing and no one in the house. The cat isn’t even here.”

“Oh. Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more positive of anything in my life.” Riley got into bed, further rocking me.

I held onto the headboard for balance. “Well, that’s good.”

“Come here, princess.” In the dark, his arms reached out for me.

Grateful, I tumbled back onto the bed with him, letting him pull me against him in a spooning position. His arm was heavy and comforting tucked under my breasts, his legs warm, the cotton of his boxer briefs soft against my thighs.

“You okay?” he asked, his breath a hot whisper above my ear. He sounded sleepy.

“Yes. Thanks.” I hadn’t been planning to go to bed this early, but I was reluctant to go back out there by myself. I knew if I heard another random noise, I’d flip out again.

Besides, it was nice being with him like this. The rhythm of the bed was soothing. I wished I could take my bra off but I didn’t want to disturb him, any more than I already had, that is. Feeling a little sheepish, but mostly relieved, I wrapped my arm around his and snuggled my ass into his crotch. It wasn’t meant to be a come-on and he didn’t respond in any way, his breathing light on the back of my neck. It was more that I wanted to be close to him.

“Night, Pita,” he murmured.

“Pita? How am I like a Middle Eastern flatbread?” Was that better than princess? I wasn’t sure.

“It stands for pain in the ass.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t even particularly insulted. I was a pain in the ass. I didn’t mean to be.

He kissed my bare shoulder.

And it felt more intimate than oral sex.

I shivered in the dark.

When Riley climbed out of bed at some ungodly hour, his alarm having gone off with a vicious squawk, I vaguely responded with an “Mm,” when he said good-bye. Then I promptly fell back asleep and didn’t wake up until I heard shouting and door slamming and altogether too much freaking noise for anything earlier than noon.

It sounded like the boys were back from their jaunt in the suburbs.

I pried my eyes open and wished coffee would miraculously appear in my right hand. I’m not so much a morning person, but with caffeine, all things are possible. Yawning, I started when I realized there was a pair of eyes staring at me from the doorway.

Easton. The kid moved like smoke. It was freaky.

“Where’s Riley?” he asked, looking at me like I had swallowed his brother whole.

“He’s at work. How was Rory’s house?”

“Fine. Who are you?”