Page 26 of The Other Side
On instinct, I released a bloodcurdling scream.
“Violet?” a familiar male voice called out from the dark.
A shadowy figure moved toward me, and once he reached the study table, I finally recognized his blue-grey eyes.
“What the fuck, Chance!?” I shouted, scrambling off my chair and promptly tripping over the leg, falling to the floor in a heap.
“Sorry.” He grimaced, reaching a hand out to help me up.
I swatted it away and righted myself without his help, taking a few steps back to increase the distance between us once again.
“What is this place?” he breathed in awe, craning his head to look up and down the long room.
“My lounge…” I frowned, willing my heart to stop racing.
Chance paced toward me, but his attention was on the seating area situated in front of the still crackling fire, just behind me.
“This is your secret cozy space.” An impressed grin spread along his face, but quickly faded when he took me in. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
I folded my arms over my chest defensively. I wanted him to leave…immediately. Nobody else had been up in the lounge. Jolene and Lenny were the only two people on campus who even knew it existed, or at least theyhad beenthe only ones who had known I knew it existed.
“How’d you find me?” I pouted.
“I’ve heard you puttering around up here for weeks. I thought it was an animal.” He paused abruptly to chuckle at himself. “Or maybe a ghost. But rodents and ghosts don’t usually start fires and play jazz, as far as I’m aware.”
Chance looked around, searching for the source of the music. “Where’s it coming from?”
I pointed to the console. “It’s a phonograph.”
“Actually, it’s a gramophone.” He grinned, walking over to look at it up close. “And a beautiful one at that.” He traced the edge of the horn with the tip of his index finger. “Well, technically, a gramophone is a type of phonograph, but they play cylinders, while gramophones play records like this.”
Ignoring his unsolicited correction to my terminology, I asked, “How’d you get up here?” I squinted, trying to see how he might have entered from the end of the room, but failing.
“The fire escape.” He beamed, proud of his ingenuity. “The window was unlocked.”
I fought back a grimace, remembering the last time the weather had been pleasant and I’d opened up all of the windows, knowing it would be one of the last opportunities for a while. It hadn’t occurred to me that I needed to be concerned about intruders on the fourth floor that nobody was supposed to know existed.
I studied him as he continued to gawk at everything. His hair was wet with rain, rivulets of water running down his face and neck, disappearing beneath the casual grey zip-up hoodie he was wearing. Like me, he had swapped his slacks for pajama pants, but had put on a well-worn pair of sneakers to scale the fire escape. Small puddles formed in his wake as he traipsed across the floor in earnest exploration.
Without thinking, I reached over the couch to grab a blanket. “Here,” I called out, just before throwing it to him.
He looked down at the blanket and then back up at me, a curious expression etched upon his face. He took a beat before using it to dry off, wrapping it around his broad shoulders afterward.
“How’dyouget up here?” He raised an eyebrow in interest.
“There’s a trapdoor in my bathroom ceiling,” I admitted.
“Huh.” He nodded his head, seemingly amused at the thought.
“Please don’t tell anyone,” I blurted out.
Chance gave me a predatory grin as he contemplated my request.
I tried desperately to ignore the flutter in my stomach at having his eyes on me so intensely.
Taking his time to respond, he strolled past me, elegantly seating himself in the armchair closest to the fire.
“I might have a few conditions.” He turned his gaze on me, crossing his ankle over his knee, then leaning back into the chair.
