The Boy in the Shadows

Kelsey’s bare feet sunk into the cool, dewy grass as she rounded the first corner of Amanda’s house. The night air was thick with the smell of wet soil and honeysuckle, and her heart hammered so loud she was sure it would wake the whole neighborhood. She was naked except for the powder-blue bra that barely contained her and the thong that disappeared between her cheeks. A thrill, hot and electric, shot up her spine.

Then she saw him.

Leaning against the old oak tree at the edge of the property was Jashaun. He was big—not fat, but broad, carved out of something harder than most boys their age. His skin was the color of strong coffee under the dim porch light, and his eyes were two lazy coals watching her. A gold chain glinted at his collarbone. Everyone in town said he was no good, that he ran with older kids, that he'd been held back twice. But Kelsey had nursed a crush on him for a year.

“Well, well,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble. “Look what the cat dragged out.”

Kelsey froze, her hands instinctively twitching to cover herself. But she didn’t. Something in his smirk dared her not to. “Jashaun? What are you doing here?”

He pushed off the tree and took a slow step closer. The grass whispered under his worn boots. “Could ask you the same, snowflake. Running laps in your drawers? That’s a new kind of stupid.”

Her face burned, but between her thighs, a treacherous warmth bloomed. “It’s a dare.”

“Yeah?” He was close enough now that she could smell him—sweat, cheap cologne, and something wild like thunderstorms. “I got a better one.”