Darling Psycho

You're Good At Moving Your Lips

From the time we left the dance room, I wasn’t feeling myself anymore. It was as if something in me had snapped, and the only thing I wanted was to go home and just lock myself up. My heart was beating in my chest when I arrived home, and I knew I was hungry. I went into the kitchen, made myself a sandwich before I climbed straight to my room.

I stopped at the window, at my usual window where I could just peek into Jason’s room and just get lost in it. It had become a habit, a really, really bad and strange habit. I was stalking him, and a part of me didn’t want to accept that.

The view I always got was beautiful, and a bit hard to deny. From here, I could literally see him change clothes, or when he walked out of the shower — butt naked. Or when he was changing. He never closed his window, and that made me watch him from every angle I wanted, as long as he was home.

But this time, his room was empty.

He might still have been at school.

I let out a breath and peeled off my clothes, letting them fall in a heap on the floor. My body felt heavy, my skin too tight. I pulled on a pair of black tights and an oversized tank top that slipped off one shoulder, exposing more skin than I usually would. Then, I laced up my sneakers, the ones I wore whenever I needed to blow off steam.

I walked out of the house, the wind cool against my flushed skin. The backyard stretched wide and empty, the pool still and silent. I set my phone down on the stone pavement, selecting an instrumental beat that thudded through the speakers. Then I closed my eyes, letting the music pour into me like a slow, dark river.

The wind whispered against my bare arms, and my hips started to sway. The beat was a pulse, and I moved to it, rolling my waist, sliding my hands down my cheek, my neck, my chest. My body twisted and dipped, each movement releasing tension, each roll of my hips sending a fresh wave of heat down my spine.

I tossed my hair back, laughing at myself, a breathless, choked sound that got lost in the wind. I stumbled back inside, my heart pounding. I went to the kitchen, opened the cabinet where Dad kept his best scotch, and poured a splash into a glass. The burn slid down my throat like liquid fire.

“You can do this,” I whispered to myself, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth. “You haven’t lost your magnificence yet.”

I grabbed one of the poolside chairs, dragging it to the center of the backyard. I set it down and moved around it, letting my hips roll again, my hands sliding down my body like they were someone else’s. I lowered myself onto the chair, legs spread, back arched, moving my hips in slow, sensual circles as if I was lap dancing for an invisible audience.

Then I heard it.

A slow clap that was ringing through the backyard.

My insides tightened. I turned sharply, my breath catching in my throat. Nathan was there, leaning against one of the wooden poles, his arms crossed, a wicked grin pulling at his mouth. His dark hair fell messily over his eyes, and his shirt hung open, showing the tattoo that snaked across his collarbone.

“Well, well,” he drawled, eyes dragging up and down my body. “Didn’t know we had a little show going on here.”

"Were you watching me?" I blurted, feeling the heat crawl up my cheeks.

"Hard not to when you're putting on a show like that," he said, voice smooth like honey. "What was that? A personal performance? Or just practicing for the real thing?"

I straightened, trying to brush off the embarrassment. "What do you do in your free time? Stalk girls dancing?"

He shrugged, pushing off the pole and taking a slow step toward me. “Depends. You always put on a show like that? Or is this just for me?”

“Get over yourself,” I snapped, standing up, but the chair was in the way, and I nearly tripped.

Nathan caught my arm, his grip firm and a little too warm. “Careful, princess. Don’t hurt yourself.”

I yanked my arm back, my skin burning where he touched me. “Don’t call me that.”

His smirk widened. “You know, you move pretty good. But if you treat me right, maybe I could show you a few moves of my own.”

His voice was deep, a low purr that slid under my skin like silk, and I hated that it made me feel wet.

“Not interested,” I said, but my voice trembled, and Nathan just laughed, the sound dark and deep and way too close.

"Don’t leave yet." His voice stopped me. "You didn’t even tell me your name."

I glanced over my shoulder, meeting his gaze. "It’s Vanya."

His grin widened, and damn, it was the kind of grin that made you feel like you were being pulled into something dangerous. "Pretty bird," he said, eyes still on me. "I didn’t know we had one living next door."

I forced a smile, fingers tightening around my phone. "Guess now you do."

"And I’m Nathan," he said, stepping closer. "In case you didn’t know."

"I did," I said, voice clipped. "Everyone knows."

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound. "Good."

I stepped back, feeling the chill of the air hit me. "I should go."

"You should," he said, eyes glinting with something I couldn’t quite place. "But if you ever feel like dancing again... well, you know where to find me."

I swallowed, heart racing as I turned away, feeling his eyes on me the whole way back to the house.