The door closes shut as I walk out, taking in a deep breath as I look around the shop. Interviews are never my thing, but I would really enjoy working here. Mama's, a family-owned business for Italian food in the town, and also, one of the best places to eat.

Exciting the shop, I find myself in my car, the radio tuned out as I stare ahead at the windows of the brick building, the rain pouring down as my windshield whippers create a transparent view. I hope I got the job. I used to waitress back in my old city at an Olive Garden. Hitting my head back against the headrest, those midnight blue eyes flood my mind.

It's now the Saturday starting Thanksgiving week, my first semester almost done in my new town. Ever since Halloween I haven't went back to that street or anywhere close, where that man who approached me told me those things. Mr. Maxwell.

Emily warned me to stay away, meaning he's trouble for me. I was dared to go into his house and steal a plate, the group tense and unsure a I took the dare, also hinting that the man within the house was trouble. Yet George called Maxwell an old man, and the body of that man is far from old.

My phone buzzes, and as I answer, I hear Oliver ask me over. I reply with a no, explaining how my parents want me home today, spending time with Taylor and them.

As I return home, I find my night going well as we play board games and laugh. Finishing up a round of Cranium, Taylor brings another bowl of popcorn to the table and we start a new game.

By the next morning I'm up early at six, finishing up some last minute paper to submit online as the shower turns on in Taylor's bathroom. "Another day," I mumble, running my hands over my face.

Last night I set up plans with Emily and Oliver to spend the day out at the park with some other people from the art department to play frisbee golf.
By eight I'm getting dressed, pulling a pair of sweats on and old shirt from Boston. Grabbing my keys, I head out the house, driving off in the direction Emily told me. Once more, those eyes fly through my head, and I find myself remembering those words. Those words of his need, his desires, his thirst that frightens me, yet, deep down, it excites me. His eyes were enchanting, his scent enveloping, and just his whole persona intriguing as I found myself laying awake countless nights wondering what he was up to.

I do that often, zoning out into day dreams about the man whose house I broke into. God, I was so stupid to take that dare. But I didn't want to pass, I didn't want to seem like a chicken, I didn't want to be taken as safety first and obey all the rules.

Arriving at the park, I see the massive hill is surrounded by trees, a small pond at one portion, frisbee golf courses set up in various locations, and my group of friends all gathered by a picnic table as the November air turns colder by the minute. I hop out of my car and stride over, waving at Oliver as he spots me.

There are some familiar faces like George and a girl I played that dare game with, while new faces pop up. In little to no time I've learned three new names as we sit at the table, waiting two more guys. "Where is he?" Emily mutters, letting her head fall back for a dramatic display.

Just then, another car pulls into the lot, a truck, and two guys hop out. One is shorter, the driver, with black hair and green eyes, while the other, I could get used to someone like him. Sandy blond hair a bit messy from the wind, bright brown eyes like honey, average height, toned very nicely, and fits the description the boy next door you'd want to introduce to your parents at first chance.

"Brody, what took so long?" Oliver asks as green-eyes shrugs.

"I believe Terrance here took too long to wake up."

Terrance. Fits him well.

Once the two new guys join in, we begin our game, splitting to begin the competition.

For three hours we play, yelling and chanting as others take their turn. I stay by Emily the whole time for the most part, and every so often sneak a peek at Terrance, who I have learned plays tennis for school and is also a senior. "Lily," someone calls my name, my head instantly snapping in the direction my name came. I meet those honey eyes and blush a bit, thanking that it's cold so my cheeks are already pink.

"Yes?"

"Your turn."

"Oh," I reply, feeling stupid as I mentally curse at myself. I take the frisbee and angle my arm, letting it fly free as I flick my wrist. I hit the target, a smile spreading across my face as George groans.

By the end of the day with everyone, we've driven down back to the town square to a diner of warm food. Taking a seat next to a girl named Ginger, I find myself thinking of those midnight blue eyes again, wondering when he will next show up in my life.

When my food finally arrives, I dig in, my fries going into my mouth first as some people still wait. "Someone is hungry," that voice comments, his eyes glued to me as I pick up another peppered fry. Terrance watches me as I shrug, placing it in my mouth.

"That I am."

"So you play piano?" He asks, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair directly across from me.

I shrug again. "You could say that. Do you do any music."

"God no, I just like my rackets for tennis and if I pick up a drumstick, it's ice cream."

I laugh a bit at his joke, rolling my eyes playfully as a smile stretches across his face. "Well then, that's a shame."

We chat some more, mainly about college as everyone begins to finish up their food. By the time we are on the topic of Game of Thrones, a few people have thrown away their food. "I guess this is goodbye," he comments as we both stand up to throw away our trash.

"If you want it to be," I add, not sparing him a glance as I head out the front door.

The wind hits me hard as I walk faster to my car, not wanting to stay in the cold another longer. "Lily!"

I look over my shoulder to see Terrance running towards me, waning me to wait for him. "Hurry up, I'm freezing,"I shout, watching as he gets to where I stand by my car. "Yes?"

"I'd like to ask you something, and I know it sounds really sudden..."

"Go on." I meet his gaze as something feels wrong, as something within me tells me this isn't right. I feel as if this is the wrong time and place, as if I'm about to take part of some ordeal.

"I was just wondering if you wouldn't mind perhaps getting together sometime."

I'm shocked by this. I've never been asked out really for a date, unless you count the time I was in third grade and a boy asked me out.

I take some time to process the question, the proposal to get to know this guy better. Midnight blue eyes flood my mind once again, causing me to snap out of my thinking and reply. "Sure."

Terrance smiles, thanking me as his friend, Jeremy, honks his horn. "I'll see you around."

"See you around," I reply, hopping into my car as a fear in the pit of my stomach develops. Why? I should be happy, overjoyed, and glad that someone has taken an interest in me. Maxwell also took an interest in me, one that sends off warning signs in my head and makes me question who he really is. For any many to say that to a girl, a stranger who they know is younger, and to put their words into context that suggests something dark, it's frightening.

Pulling out of the parking lot, I make my way home once again, sparing a short glance up the street of mansions where his castle lays. Who knows, I may never bump into him again, I may never have to. Yet a piece of me says I'll be crawling back there soon.

What does he do, for sure by the looks of his home and cars he's wealthy. Is he in business? Law? Could he be in the mafia? I have no clue. I don't even know his first name! But he knows mine.

Once home, I head up to my room, pondering how to find out his name. Phone book.

I look up the online phone book for the town, pulling it open to scroll down to the 'M' section where I trace the page for his last name. There are four Maxwells in town, and only one of them can live on his street. As I recall his street name, my finger lands on the screen, my eyes glued as I uncover his name.

Nixon Maxwell.

<><>

"No shit Sherlock," Macy, one of my co-workers comments to another waitress as I tap my foot to the ticking of the clock. Five more minutes and we close at Mama's Italian Restaurant and I'll be off free to go over to Oliver's for another study session due to a massive AP Chem test tomorrow.

"Yes, and he even broke up with her after it."

I don't care for the small town gossip as I push past the doors of the kitchen and head over into the dining area to retrieve left dishes. Picking up one table's leftovers, I find myself humming some old song as the soft Italian music plays in the background. Just yesterday the Christmas music started, so for me to hear something other than that, I'm fine by all means.

In ten minutes I've left and some people stay behind to lock up. All dressed in black fin waitressing, I find myself blending in with the dark night, ready to study my ass off. I'm already in a bad mood from today at work due to customers that has sticks up their ass, meaning that whatever they were mad for, they took it out on me, the waitress with only her second day on the job. At least the tips were good, one mom with eight crazy children leaving me a sizable amount.

By the time I'm at Oliver's, I'm ascending the stairs quickly where I find Emily and Oliver in the sitting up, their bodies hidden by beanbags and papers. "I'm back."

"Long shift," Emily comments, looking up. Her hair is turquoise.

"You died your hair," I reply, seeing her face smile. "I love it."

"Thanks, Oliver hates it-

"I did not say I hate it. I said I prefer it natural," he defends himself as I see the window open, revealing a massive backyard and a massive modern house down the direction I'm looking, once again all the lights off and appearing isolated.

We study for two hours before we head downstairs and grab some food, careful not to wake Oliver's mom up. His dad takes the night shift at a hospital as a pharmacist, allowing us to not be too quiet as we search for junk food. "Lily."

"Yes?"

"You're stepping on my foot." I look down to see my foot on Emily, right away taking it off as she thanks me. "You guys wanna eat outside a bit? Perhaps at the gazebo?"

Looking back outside, I see the gazebo a bit farther back, some lights around it, and deadly close to Nixon Maxwell's house. "I'm up for it. Lily?"

"Sure." I don't take time to think over my response as I'm pulled out of the house and follow my friends down to where the gazebo sits surrounded by flowers. I'm lucky to be wearing a jacket since I left the restaurant, the chilly air making me want to get a heating blanket and fire.

We chat outside for a while, discussing school, people, movies, and memories as the night begins to lose more time. Every so often I look up to the house, wondering if he's in there, if he's watching us or if he's asleep.

"Remember when Lily was dared to enter Maxwell's house," Emily laughs, pulling my attention back. "She was so scared."

"What ever happened to that plate, Lily?" Oliver asks as I remember when he popped out of no where and commented on me stealing a plate. I can recall web he chased me outback and I couldn't climb the wall. Tingles still run through my body as I remember his body against mine, a feeling I'd want to replay over and over.
"I told you, I slipped and it fell, crashing on the floor. End of story."

Emily shrugs, eating another chip as I lean my head against Oliver's shoulder.
Just then, a light turns on and I jump. The light of the piano room, the beautiful piano that I wish I could practice on. Thankfully for me, the window is basically the size of the wall as all three of us watch from afar the body of a built man sit upon the piano bench.

He doesn't play. He simply rests his fingers on the keys and looks frozen. A part of me wants to break down that wall and see what he meant by those words he told me weeks ago. Another part of me wants for me to run away from here.

We all three take in the sight before us, watching the figure as he sits still and doesn't move. His back is ripped like I expected, once again a flimsy shirt covering a sight I could never forget, and plaid pants covering an ass-

"I feel like a creep," Oliver mutters before my thoughts can go anywhere else. I was way too close of passing a line.

"Same," I add, grabbing another handful of M&Ms. Sneaking another glance, I see the eyes of the man. He's looking over his shoulder, staring at the moon, those eyes shining in the dark as a feeling floods me to the core. "Should we go in?" I ask, turning to look at Emily and Oliver, only, they also stare at the moon, a certain glint in their eyes. "Guys?"

They don't notice me, it's as if they've both zoned out. "Emily, Oliver?" I ask, reaching forward, waving my hand before their eyes. "Guys, this isn't funny."

The wind switches directions, the gazebo darkening as the lights turn dim. Looking around the area, I see the whole place deserted, the night nothing but dark as shivers run through my body. My heartbeat picks up, my intake of breath increasing as the night turns to a numbing cold.

"Emily?"

They both look as if no soul embodies their body. My mind goes through millions of questions as I watch the two of them. "This is not funn-"

"I would advise you not to bother them."

My head whips around, meeting the eyes of Nixon Maxwell, my heart stopping shortly. His sharp features are highlighted by the moonlight, those eyes piercing into my soul as I stare at the man. "Hello, Lily."

"Nixon," I reply, watching as a glint passes through his eyes.

"Smart girl to learn my name," he comments, standing right before the gazebo, his stance one of power. Looking back at my friends, I see them still in a form that frightens me. That worries me.

"Don't worry about them, Lily." I place my attention back on Nixon, his figure closer than before.

"What's wrong with them," I demand, about to reach out and touch Emily, about to see if she will wake up.

"Don't touch her."

"Why not?"

"It's not wise," he replies, his voice stern as my hands begin to shake. "Come."

I see him walking away from the gazebo, his eyes glued to me as I find myself standing up. "I don't bite." As he stands more in the moonlight, his body highlighted with all the muscles as I find myself becoming stirred up.

"Why?" I ask, taking a step forward. "Where?"

"Just follow me, you won't regret it."

Will I?

Stepping out of the gazebo, I follow Nixon to the middle of the yard, walking up to where he stands. "Why are you here?"

"That's not important for now."

"For now?"

"Don't bicker, sweetheart," he states, stern as I look back to my friends. Should I follow him though? Should I even trust this man? This man I don't know? This man whose house I broke into? Shaking my head of the questions, I watch as Nixon takes a step forward, arms crossed as his body heat radiates off of him.

Suddenly, my hands are held in his, shocks flying through my body as he pulls me to where he walks.

In no time I find myself in Nixon's backyard, walking around the pool as I willingly am behind him, watching his back muscles move. "My parents will probably be wondering where I-

"Emily will cover for you."

"How do you know she will?"

He doesn't answer as the double doors to his house are pushed open to reveal the posh and beautiful interior I was once in. The lights are all off, the house dark as I rely on the moonlight, following Nixon to where the stairs begin. "Where are we going?"

Nixon spares me one glance, those eyes making me become lost in the short time I get a look at them.

His begins to ascend the stairs, stopping midway as he looks at me from the bottom, biting my lip. Where will following him lead me?

"What's wrong with Oliver and Emily?"

Nixon places his hands back into his pockets, looking annoyed with my staying behind. "Please tell me."

He turns his back to me, walking up the rest of the way, turning a corner as he soon disappears. "If you try and leave," he pauses, "I won't be the good guy."

Those last words send my eyes wide and skin pale.

Did he just threaten me?