Hot As Sin

19

My guess is yes.

“Thank you,” I say. Then, very softly, I touch my lips to hers. Against her mouth, I whisper, “I think you’re sexy, too.”

When I pull away, she’s got her eyes closed. She’s leaning into me, breathing hard, practically swooning.

In a normal tone, I say, “But I’m in a relationship.”

Her lids flutter open. She starts to blink like a baby bird, all helpless and innocent. “W-what?”

“I said I’m in a relationship.”

She takes a breath, shakes her head, moistens her lips with the tip of her tongue. Her look of helplessness clears, and for a fleeting moment I see the strong, fearless woman she’ll someday become.

She says, “Has anyone ever told you you’re a shitty liar?”

I release her wrist and smile at her. “Listen to me. You’re a beautiful girl. And I’m very flattered. But this isn’t happening.”

She folds her arms over her chest. “I’m not underage, if that’s what you think. I can show you my driver’s license.”

I touch her cheek, thumbing over her cheekbone. Her skin is flawless, like satin. It’s a pity I don’t have a thing for girls with daddy issues, because she’s incredibly sweet.

“I believe you.”

She pouts, looking me up and down, then gets a little snippy. “So you’re into guys, is that it?”

She watches my mouth with widening eyes as my smile comes on slow and carnal. I say softly, “You know I’m not.”

Her breathing goes arrhythmic. She manages to squeak, “So you’re just not into me.”

I have to say I’m impressed with her determination. She’s not gonna let this go until she gets to the core of the problem. I’ve gotta give her something, so I do.

“I’m moving to New York tomorrow. Literally tomorrow. So.”

She narrows her eyes, searching my face. Seemingly satisfied I’m telling the truth this time, she says, “Oh.”

Then, just as I think we’re about done, she whispers, “But you’re still here tonight.” Then she bats her lashes at me like a silent movie star. It’s all I can do not to break out into gales of laughter.

I take her face in my hands, press a firm, close-mouthed kiss to her lips, and say, “You’re amazing, but I’m incredibly stupid, because I’m not into one-night stands or girls who aren’t age appropriate.”

When she looks at me like I’m nuts, I shrug. “Everybody has their thing.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” I pause for a beat. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll probably jerk off to the memory of this moment for months. Maybe years, even.”

She starts to laugh and can’t stop. “Oh my God,” she says, gasping, “that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me!”

Wow. I guess guys her age aren’t exactly gallant.

A squeal of feedback echoes through the house, followed by the unmistakable sound of an electric guitar chord, struck hard.

“What’s that?” asks Celine, looking around.

“Sound check, sounds like.”

When she frowns at me, I clarify. “Bad Habit’s gonna do an impromptu set.”

She produces an ear-piercing screech that would give Kenji a run for his money. “No way! Omigod, I LOVE Bad Habit! They’re totally my favorite band! I was so stoked to get this job tonight just to see the guys up close, but never in a million years did I think I’d get to hear them play!”

She hops up and down, adorably excited. She’s morphed from sophisticated seductress to squealing teenage groupie in two seconds flat.

“Better hit the front yard, then,” I say, chuckling.

Whooping, she spins around and runs out. Not five seconds later, she runs back in. She stops in front of me, goes up on her toes, and flattens her hands on my chest.

Then she kisses me on the cheek.

“You’re so f*****g hot, and I’m so mad at you for turning me down, and also I think I’ll probably jerk off to the memory of this for years, too. So there.”

We grin at each other.

She turns on her heel and is gone.

7

I find a pair of Nico’s black drawstring sweats in another drawer and a pair of his flip flops that I’m ridiculously satisfied to discover when I put them on are a size too small. Then, going commando because there’s no way in hell I’m wearing his underwear, I take my wet clothes down to the laundry room and toss everything into the dryer except my wallet and boots.

By the time I make my way to the front yard, Nico’s on top of one of the fire trucks, playing his guitar and singing. He doesn’t have a mic, but the amps for his guitar are hooked up, and the familiar melody of one of Bad Habit’s most popular hits fills the night.

The crowd gathered around the truck doesn’t need to hear the lyrics, anyway. Everyone knows them by heart, and sings right along.

There’s no telling how long he’ll be, so I decide to make a trip to his office in the meantime. Connor’s passcode will expire at eight o’clock in the morning. If things keep going the way they are, I’ll still be here then. I don’t want to take the chance of missing my window.

I sit down behind Nico’s big glass desk and fire up his computer. His password is “NicoNKat” and their wedding anniversary, which I keep telling him is the stupidest thing in the world because it’s so easily crackable. Might as well use “Password” or “12345.” Or nothing at all, for that matter.