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“It means you’re trouble, and no matter how appealing you look, how fucking sweet you taste, I don’t want trouble.”
“You don’t want me.”
“Go and wash that shit off. Now.”
She goes to say something, but then she turns and stalks away.
I feel like utter shit. Even though I know she’s too young, too immature in all the wrong ways. The girl can’t handle her emotions. She wants me because I’m meant to be off-limits. I’m her fucking brother’s best friend.
She’s a fucking pain in my ass who knows how to push my buttons.
So, I do a smart thing.
A cowardly thing.
The water in the shower’s running, and I call Wendy.
She’s in the house, and I’m out the door before Karlee exits the shower.
I can’t help but think it feels an awful lot like running away.
Chapter Eight
KARLEE
I don’t know what was going through my head with the fake tattoos. What did I expect from it?
Some kind of heated exchange that would end in a tryst I apparently want?
Apparently?
Try definitely.
Like has nothing to do with it.
After I dry off and dress in my PJs, I take a breath and go out into a house that’s empty.
He’s gone from this tiny one-bedroom thing, again
On the sofa’s the quiet, calm, and probably deadly Wendy. She doesn’t look up. “I’m not even here,” she says.
Somehow, I find my voice. “Run off, has he?”
“That’s one way of putting it, but I probably wouldn’t use those exact words to his face.”
I would.
I go and get some water, then stare into the contents of the fridge and freezer. But I’m not hungry, not for food. My throatthrobs where he had his hand, and though I scrubbed my skin, I can still feel that hot glide of his tongue on me. The heart-stopping way he slipped a finger along my flesh and pulled the strap of my tank top down. Just enough to expose more of the stupid fake tattoos that had Nadia rolling her eyes at, Avah smiling, and Laura giggling as she helped me apply them.
All that and . . .
He doesn’t want me.
No, he sent me to shower and took off. I swallow a deep mouthful of water. What am I? Old smelly liver? Lots of men would love to?—
I don’t finish that thought.
Do I want him? Like beyond just messing with Tizio, do I want him?
