She nodded, never blinking. “Okay,” she said quietly.

My lips were so close to hers, but my eyes never faltered. “I want you,” I whispered over the lump in my throat. “More than anything. I think of you first thing in the morning, and last thing at night. You’re the most important person in my life, Juliet.” No matter what happened, I needed her to remember that. “I’m trying to let you know me, okay?”

She nodded again. “Just as long as it’s not more cliff diving, okay?”

A grin spread across my face. “No, it’s not that tame.”

By the time Tuesday rolled around, I didn’t want to leave.

The days were fun. The nights were fun. And the fun was easy.

I realized how nice it was to have a girlfriend, and I enjoyed the little things we’d gotten comfortable with each other enough to do, like the familiar little touches, someone to wrap my arms around at the campfire, and waking up with the person I wanted right next to me in the morning. Someone warm and soft and made just for me. It was consistent and comforting.

And after a lifetime of feeling as if I didn’t truly have a home, I finally had something that came naturally.

I’d kissed every inch of her skin, and sucked and bitten anything and everything I could get my hands on. I’d lost count of her different smiles, and my favorite feeling was her teeth on my skin.

She had gotten inside me, but when I slowed down long enough to think, then doubt crept in like a thick fog.

I wouldn’t live up to her expectations, she’d start getting demanding, and we’d get ugly.

Fuck. I rubbed my hand over my face, zoning out on the road as I drove. Fuck the doubt. I was good enough. I was strong enough. I was powerful enough. And I was worthy enough.

“Are you sure this is how I’m supposed to dress?” Juliet asked from the passenger seat.

I looked over, instantly biting back a smile. She looked the hottest I’d ever seen her, and I couldn’t wait to show her what I needed to show her and then get back in the car and get the hell home.

She wore a black-and-white schoolgirl skirt that barely fell below her ass and a gray half-shirt tank top. Her makeup of black eye shadow and red lipstick was thicker than soup, and her severely straight hair fell in a shiny wave down her back. Fallon and Tate had finished the look for her with combat boots with metal buckles.

“You’ll blend. Don’t worry.”

“I look like a slut,” she mourned.

“Those are Tate’s clothes,” I pointed out.

“Which she bought on a whim and never wore,” she shot back. “What about your clothes?”

I wore medium-washed jeans and a short-sleeved black V-neck. I don’t dress up.

“I’m big, and I’ll have a hot goth chick on my arm.” I smiled. “They won’t cry over my lack of eyeliner, okay?”

She rolled her eyes and looked out the window. “I hate that you’re not telling me anything.”

“I confided in Madoc once. He almost vomited,” I joked but not really. “It’s not something I’m going to give you a chance to run from.”

She turned her wide eyes on me, probably wondering if now was too late to get scared.

In all fairness, Madoc had been a good friend about it. One night, I’d dragged him to Chicago with me, to the Skull & Feather, because I’d needed to share it with someone.

And for some reason, I didn’t trust Jared’s reaction. Madoc was unnerved, and I could tell it wasn’t something he was ever interested in experiencing again, but he was supportive. He kept the secret and even covered for me when Jared got suspicious about my long nights out in high school.

We parked in the garage across from the club, and I took her hand in mine as we ran across the busy downtown street. The blacktop, bright with the glow of streetlights, glistened with the rain that had fallen earlier, and the sounds of car horns and tires kicking up water filled the air.

Juliet kept pace with me as I walked through the club door, the stench of cigarette smoke instantly filling my nostrils, and I handed the bouncer two twenties for our cover. I came here nearly every week, and I knew the guy remembered me, but I never attempted to make friends. I never spoke to anyone, and I never hung out long.

I didn’t want these people to know me.

“Five minutes?” I confirmed.

He nodded, knowing what I always came to see. “Five minutes.”

I looked to Juliet, who was completely focused on the club scene.

Since I came here so often, it was nothing new to me, but from her perspective I was sure it was an interesting sight.

The old club sat on the first floor of a large warehouse, and even though the building itself was massive with sky-high ceilings, the actual club gave off an intimate atmosphere. There were two levels, with the top level in a U shape. Walking around up there, you could stand at the railings on all three sides and peer down into the bottom level where we currently stood. Several high round tables with stools were scattered around the room, along with a long bar that featured mirrors on the back wall, and gothic-looking chandeliers hanging from the ceiling above us.

And everything was black. The walls, the furniture, the equipment, the floors, the ceiling, and even the employee dress code.

But by far the best feature was the theaterlike stage. Intricate old-world design still survived in the carving of the frame surrounding the wide and high platform. With the full-on black, this place felt like a cave hidden away from the rest of the world where hard music gave the finger to the world outside.

“You want a drink?” I asked, putting my hand on her back.

She widened her eyes, curling her lips in a nervous smile. “I think I might need one.”

I smiled to myself, leading her over to the bar. I still hadn’t figured out why I wanted to bring her here, but she hadn’t run away yet, so …

She stopped at the bar, turning to look at me as the bartender stepped over.

“You won’t get carded,” I said, knowing what she was thinking.

“Uh.” She held the railing of the bar, tapping her fingers. “Parrot Bay and pineapple juice, please,” she ordered, and then immediately looked at me. “And shut up,” she scolded.

“I’m not laughing.” I laughed. “I told you. I like that you’re a girly girl.”

And I did. Jared loved Tate’s no-nonsense, tomboy demeanor, but that had never been my thing. Juliet reminded me that the world could be pretty and soft.

I paid for her drink and my bottle of water and took her over to one of the high tops facing the stage. Disturbed’s “Stupify” beat over the sound system, and I leaned down, placing my forearms on the table and trying to look relaxed.

But while everyone else around us talked and smiled, moved and bobbed their heads to the music, I felt as if my tongue was stuck in my throat. It was like this every time I came here.

Knowing she was in here somewhere.

I let the rush of blood heat up my chest, and I tried to keep my legs under me, because I was so nervous. I thought Juliet would be a distraction tonight, but unfortunately I had to pay more attention to my breathing than usual. I looked around the room when I really just wanted to look at her.

Why was I showing her this? Why, when I hadn’t even shown Jared?

I clenched the water bottle instead of running my hand through my hair. I’d been better at reminding myself that I no longer had hair, so I learned to stop myself before I ran into the short hairs that I still hadn’t gotten used to.

It wasn’t bad, actually. I liked the haircut. But as Juliet and I got closer, I realized I was changing more and more. I’d abandoned my routine, changed my style, and Jared and I were constantly fighting. None of which was her fault, but it still proved to me that I was spiraling. Up or down, I wasn’t sure.

“Okay.” She let out a sigh, sounding frustrated. “I’ve been patient for three days, and—”

I jerked my head to the stage as the lights—what little there were—began to dim.

“Here,” I interrupted, tipping my chin to the band coming out.

She stopped talking and turned her attention to the two guitarists, the bassist, and the drummer strolling out. All four members of Skull Feathers—the name clearly taken from the name of the club or vice versa—took up their instruments as the music stopped and the crowd started cheering and calling out.

“Who …?” Juliet looked to me, confusion written all over her expression.

I held up a finger, asking her to wait.

The drummer pounded twice, sending fire shooting up from the two flamethrowers on each side of the stage, and Juliet laughed, probably out of shock. Her eyes shot to me, lit up with awe.

I smiled and watched her. I’d seen the show before, after all. A hundred times.

The glow from the flames blazed across her face, making her green eyes dance with light. Her mouth was open slightly, and the amazement in her expression was like looking at a child seeing fireworks for the first time. Entranced, she followed every movement with her eyes.

The band started, the heavy vibrations of the drums humming through our bodies, and the crowd went wild. Pounding feet, banging heads, jumping, losing themselves. The band was doing a cover of Rob Zombie’s “Dragula,” and when the crowd cheered louder, I knew who was onstage, but I didn’t look.