Chapter 5 Austin
FIVE
AUSTIN
The Lady’s Lantern smelled like grease, floor wax, and defeat—though in a way that felt almost comforting.
Post-softball, the crowd had thinned into a familiar mix of barflies, off-duty mechanics, and men who probably had the same barstool every Wednesday, sipping domestics like it was tradition—and maybe it was.
I nursed a beer at the end of the booth while Hayes talked to the bartender, Cal leaned back in his chair with his boots crossed, and Brody flipped a coaster between his fingers.
There was a postgame haze hanging over all of us, warm with adrenaline and muscle ache, a little sharper for me since my nerves were still chewing on the fact that I’d made eye contact with Selene Darling for more than two full seconds.
Not just eye contact. A spark. A jolt. Something I wasn’t supposed to want but couldn’t stop replaying.
“You keep looking like that and people are gonna think something is wrong with you,” Brody muttered, his voice low as he slid another beer across to me. “Relax. You’re allowed to have fun.”
I flicked a brow. “This is my fun face.”
“Then someone should tell your jaw.” He leaned back, settling into the booth.
He followed it with a smirk, but I knew better. Brody had a casual way of watching people that made you forget he was doing it. He was all easy strength and dad jokes until he wasn’t.
I learned quickly that when it came to Selene and her sisters, the guy went into full big-brother mode—whether anyone asked him to or not.
I couldn’t help but wonder. “Do you think Selene really needs help?”
“She’s just been through a lot,” Brody said casually—but not really. His eyes stayed on the television in the corner, but the shift in his tone was impossible to miss.
“You mentioned that,” I said, careful to keep my voice neutral.
He took a sip of his beer. “She doesn’t exactly ask for help, but between her business and that little girl of hers, she’s got more than any one person should have to juggle.”
I nodded, slow. “The kid seems like a handful.”
“Winnie’s a firecracker,” Brody said, and I didn’t miss the way his mouth tipped up at the corner. “Smart as hell. Funny too. A lot like her mom.”
I let the words hang between us for a second, unsure whether we were still talking about the kid—or if we’d drifted into something else.
My gut filled with lead, but I had to ask. “Is there like . . . a thing between Selene and you?”
“No.” Brody chuckled. “Hell no. She could use a break is all,” he added. “Honestly, you should offer. Mornings, afternoons—your schedule’s flexible enough, right?”
“You really want me to babysit?” I blinked. When Brody had first mentioned it, I thought he was joking, or maybe meant I could help her hang a picture frame or something.
“Not babysit. Just . . . show up. You’re right next door. Kids aren’t that hard. You’re practically still one yourself. You can kick a soccer ball and tie a ponytail, right? That’s the job description. It doesn’t have to be complicated.”
I wanted to laugh. He had no idea that it was already complicated.
I shrugged. “I can think about it.”
Brody finally looked over at me then, and there was something behind his eyes—something more than just concern. He didn’t know the truth, not really, but he wasn’t blind either.
“She’s one of the good ones,” he said simply. “Just . . . don’t give her a reason to dead bolt the door.”
My grip tightened slightly around the bottle. “I won’t.”
He studied me a beat longer, then gave a single, satisfied nod and tipped his beer toward mine. “Good. Because Hayes wouldn’t be the only one to beat your ass.”
“Yeah.” I smirked. “That tracks.”
He raised a brow like that wasn’t the answer he expected, then turned to join Cal in heckling the opposing team. I sat back and let the noise of the bar blur around me. I didn’t need a warning.
Selene wasn’t someone you messed with. She was the type of woman you moved through fire for.
And I was already burning.
The night air smelled like grill smoke and cut grass, a scent that made it feel like maybe this town wasn’t a city that tried too hard to impress you—it was content simply being what it was.
The duplex was quiet when I got home.
One of those split-down-the-middle jobs from the seventies—sloppy drywall surgery that took a perfectly good house and turned it into two crooked halves.
You could still see the seams. A single front porch stretched across both units, the roofline sloping like it was tired of pretending it wasn’t one place.
I’d been told the kitchens and living rooms mirrored each other downstairs.
Upstairs was where the lines blurred. Our bedrooms were back-to-back.
Same narrow dimensions. Same creaking floorboards. Same cheap-ass, hollow wall in between.
Selene Darling was twenty feet away from me at all times. Ten, if we were upstairs, and most nights I pretended like I didn’t know that.
But tonight? Tonight made it impossible.
I’d been in my place a week and already knew that Selene’s bedroom was the one directly opposite mine.
I also knew she liked to shower at night, because if you followed the lines of the original crown molding, hiding under layers of thick paint, you could see exactly where the primary bedroom had been cut in two.
My guess was her half had the bathroom of an original en suite space.
I kicked off my shoes by the door, peeled off my hoodie, and climbed the stairs two at a time.
The house smelled like fresh paint and laundry soap—new-tenant scent.
My mattress was calling to me, a few unopened boxes stacked in the corner.
I hadn’t even bothered hanging anything on the walls.
I told myself I didn’t need to settle in if I didn’t plan to stay long.
But I lingered anyway.
I slowed at the top of the stairs, fingers dragging across the drywall as I passed the spot where her room pressed against mine.
Then I heard it. Singing.
I wasn’t trying to listen, but when the house settled and was quiet, it was like the walls leaned in to whisper.
Soft, off-key singing floated through the walls. It was the kind of tenderness that made something in my chest seize up. A second voice joined in—smaller, higher, bubbling with laughter.
Winnie.
They were singing to each other. Warm and alive through the drywall.
My hand stilled on the doorframe. Not listening, not really. Just . . . existing in it. I let the sound of them fill the hollow space in my chest like insulation.
They didn’t know I could hear them, and that was the part that got to me.
Selene’s voice floated out again, reading some kind of story.
There was a haunted tone in it—ghostly, spooky, maybe even a little ridiculous—and Winnie kept interrupting, asking questions with zero patience.
Selene answered with laughter tucked into her words, with more patience than I’d ever seen in anyone.
It was a far cry from the absent-minded tuck-ins of a working mother who was doing her best. Most nights I fell asleep wondering whether I would even see my mother in the morning before she left for work.
That sweet sound of a loving mother making sure her child was safe and warm—it hadn’t been like that for me.
I sat on the edge of my bed, elbows on my knees, the lamp throwing amber light across the floor. I stayed there long after Selene’s gentle storytelling faded. After a few moments, Winnie’s voice quieted, followed by a soft hush.
It was hard to make out the rustling noises beyond the wall, and after a few minutes feeling like a total creep, I stopped trying. Instead, I took a shower in the bathroom down the hall and tried to scrub Selene Darling from my mind.
When I got back to the bedroom, I pulled on a pair of black boxer briefs and sat on the edge of my bed.
“No, I didn’t mean to sleep with him,” Selene hissed through the thin walls.
My attention was instantly piqued.
Her voice was low, but she must have been close to the wall, because even muffled, I could hear every word. “It was dark. There was alcohol . . . and possibly possession by a very hot demon.”
I froze.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m serious, Kit. Don’t laugh at me. I am mortified.”
I leaned forward, pulse thumping hard in my throat.
“No, I am not totally sure that he remembers,” she added, her frustration climbing. “I don’t know if he knows it was me. God, this is a disaster.” Selene paused. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
I bit down on a grin. My hand dragged across my mouth like that could stop the ache that bloomed behind my ribs. She didn’t know I remembered. She thought I could forget.
She had no idea I hadn’t stopped thinking about her since that night in the woods—how she kissed like she wanted to burn her past clean, how she eagerly took every inch like we were trying to outrun every mistake we’d ever made.
I lay back on the bed, one arm flung over my eyes.
“Yeah, sweetheart,” I whispered to the ceiling, exhaling my frustrations. “I fucking remember.”
Minutes ticked by, and I hated that I couldn’t scrub her from my mind.
I stared in silence, wondering what she was up to.
I didn’t need to be caught up with a hot-as-fuck single mom who could level me with one glance.
My brother would be pissed if I fucked it up, and, let’s be real, that was typically what ended up happening.
Then I heard a faint sound. A sharp inhale. Something too soft to be words and too heavy to ignore.
Something breathless. Then again, followed by a stifled moan.
My hand dropped from my face. I stared up at the ceiling like it could help.
Selene was touching herself.
I didn’t know for sure. It could have been anything, but something inside me knew.
She didn’t know I could hear. Just like she hadn’t known I was the man in that dark forest.