Emery looks like an angel running down the stairs with her head tipped down, her attention focused on her feet. Her brown hair is like a veil behind her. Her lips are crimson, and the curves of her body are flawless.

She’s too perfect to be real.

I suck in a deep breath as she nears me and pull my cigarette from my lips, preparing to do something other than stare at her this time. I just can’t figure out what that other thing is.

I never fully get to come up with a brilliant plan, because she ends up running straight into my chest and knocking the wind out of me. I stumble back, gasp for air, and drop my cigarette.

“Oh, my God! I’m so sorry!” she cries as she staggers back.

I wave my hand, indicating that I’m fine as I force myself to stand upright. A loud breath flees her lips when she recognizes who I am.

“Oh, it’s you.” She frowns and steps back, as if she’s afraid of me. Her eyes drop to the white lines branded on my neck.

God, even her terrified frown is breathtaking.

I offer her a smile because that’s pretty much all I can do other than try to pantomime, I’m not a freak. I just can’t speak.

Her crimson lips part again and spill out words for me to capture. And I do. I fucking capture each one, breathe in the sound of each syllable and trap them in my lungs.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She peers over her shoulder while nervously biting her nails.

Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

The sound of her voice is better than nicotine.

When she returns her attention to me, she gives me the smallest of smiles. “Look, I’m sorry about the other day. I was feeling skittish about being in a new place, and I shouldn’t have run off like that, but…” she pauses, tugging at the hem of her running shorts that are so tight I can see her curves, “did you by chance read those papers of mine you picked up?”

I slowly shake my head.

“Thank God.” Her chest heaves as if she’s struggling to breathe. “Do you still have them?”

I nod, wondering what exactly is on those papers to create such a worried look on her face. Maybe they were more than journal pages.

She chews on her nails. “Can I, by chance, have them back? I should have never thrown them out the window to begin with.”

I nod, hold up a finger, signaling to her to wait, then hurry into the apartment to get the papers for her. I notice Luke and Violet are no longer on the sofa. I head for their room to get one of them to translate for me, even though I hate doing that. But I can hear them going at it like fucking rabbits on the other side of the door, so I decide old school is the only option I have right now. When I step outside, though, she’s gone, vanished into thin air.

Frustrated with myself and my inability to speak, I light up another cigarette and fight the urge not to look at what’s on the papers, despite my overwhelming curiosity. It would be invading her privacy, and if I want a chance to get to know her, I can’t break that trust.

I shake my head at myself. Get to know her. Like that’s even possible.

I continue to mentally scold myself and smoke my cigarette until an uptight woman with long, black hair and fake lips strolls up the stairway. As she passes by me, she pauses to scrutinize me. I hold her gaze and cock my brow, challenging her arrogance. She sticks her nose in the air and marches up to third floor, stopping in front of Emery’s apartment. I watch as Emery lets her in, giving an anxious glance in my direction as she shuts the door.

So, that’s her mother. I probably should have guessed. They look alike, only her mother’s older and a bit more plastic.

I finish my cigarette, trudge back inside, and plop down on the sofa. I pull out the pieces of paper from my pocket and turn them over in my hand. Am I that big of a douche that I’m seriously contemplating taping them together to find out more about her?

Before I can arrive at a conclusion, Luke wanders back into the room, appearing happy and high on life as he greets me with a nod. I nod back and quickly stuff the pieces back into my pocket. Then I start sorting through my creative writing books I need to take with me for the first day of class.

“Hey, you headed to class soon?” Luke asks as he rummages around in the fridge.

I have to wait for him to glance up before I shake my head and move my hands. “Not until tomorrow.”

“Fuck, my truck’s at the shop. I was going to hitch a ride with you since I have practice today.” He grabs a bottle of juice before kicking the fridge door closed. “Guess I’ll have to see if Seth can take me.” Luke joins me on the sofa and stretches out his legs. “God, I can’t believe it’s already summer. Fuck, I need to do something other than sit here on my ass.”

“You should have taken classes,” I sign as I set my stack of books on the table.

He rolls his eyes as he unscrews the cap from the juice. “No fucking way. I meant something cool, like go on a trip with Violet or something.”

My “business” phone abruptly vibrates from my pocket, and I instantly tense.

“So my friend, Seth, wants to have a party here at our house tomorrow night,” Luke continues without noticing my tension as I fumble to get the phone out of my pocket. “He says that his and Greyson’s one bedroom is too small. I was planning on telling him it was cool and we could have a card game.” He elevates his hands in front of him when I give him a dirty look. Luke is a recovering gambling addict, and I made a vow when I left Vegas not to play for money anymore, unless I was doing undercover work. “With something other than money for a wager of course.”