Sarah
I sneak into the bedroom, praying that Vincent isn't back yet.
But as soon as I flick on the light switch, a loud yelp escapes my lips. There he is, sprawled out on the bed like a lounging cat, with a sly grin spread across his face.
"Have fun in your class today?" he says, watching me with those deep-set eyes.
I nod, "Yeah, it was fun."
"Good," he drawls out. "Because you owe me a show."
My heart does this weird little skip—not from dread, not exactly. It's more like anticipation, like when you're at the top of a roller coaster, just before the plunge. I cross my arms and arch an eyebrow but can't quite hide the twitch of my lips that might suggest I'm amused. "I...I am too tired."
"Come on, Sarah." His smug grin widens. "You promised. And I've been waiting oh-so-patiently."
