Page 21 of The Encore’s Crown

In one glorious motion, every thought in my head goes silent. Her nails dig into the fabric, sharp through the cotton, and she pulls me down to her like she’s done asking permission from anybody. My body follows before my brain can catch up. I’m weak with her this close. Who am I kidding? I’ve been weak since this started.

Her mouth is right there. So close I can feel the heat of her breath, so close I can smell the fruity gloss on her lips. Her eyes drop to my mouth, then lift back to my eyes, and the pleased curve of her smile almost puts me in the ground. I swear I stop breathing. Somewhere inside me, a voice is screaming that Rafe will kill us both, that her family will lose their minds, that this is the worst possible idea I’ve ever had. That I am standing on a rooftop in Seoul with Natalia Sawadzka holding my shirt like she owns me, and if I let her close the last inch, I’m finished.

The problem is, I want to be finished. She rises onto her toes and my heart pounds hard enough to hurt. I see it all before it happens. My hands at her waist, her back against the railing, her fingers in my hair. That furious sound she’d make if I bit her bottom lip. The whole city spread out behind her while she obliterates all my good intentions.

Then, suddenly, she pulls away. My mouth meets nothing but cold air and I freeze. Natalia’s smile widens. On full display, it's fucking lethal. Then she lifts one finger between us and wags it.

“No,” she says softly.

I stare at her. My brain has been unplugged. There’s nothing in my skull now except lust and the fuzzy knowledge that I've just been murdered in a way no coroner can prove.

“No?” I repeat, and my voice sounds wrecked enough to embarrass me. Her eyes flick down my body.

“No,” she says, smug now. Evil.

I let out a laugh, but it’s rough and useless, dragged out of me like she’s got her hands around my balls. Which she does, clearly. She presses her palm to my chest and pushes me back. I don't protest because if I don't let her, then I’m going to do something dumb. Historic levels of dumb, the kind of dumb that ends with Rafe kicking my door in and my name trending next to words like betrayal and midlife crisis. Natalia smooths the front of my shirt like she didn’t just destroy me with an almost-kiss.

“See?” she says. “You can behave.”

I drag a hand over my mouth and look away, because if I keep looking, I’m going to start negotiating with the Buddha himself for her, in every lifetime.

“I've never been less behaved in here though.” I tap my thick skull, so full of things she'd never survive knowing.

“You didn’t even touch me.”

“That's not the same thing as behaving.”

She laughs, and the sound slides under my skin, so pleased with herself.

“So what’s different now? From last year?” she asks like my brain can function after what she just pulled. She looks at me, the empty stare of a neanderthal, and laughs so hard she doubles over. She grabs her stomach with those deadly nails that I imagine clawing down my back and it's so infectious I can't help but follow. After a long while, with all that sexual tension turned into laughter, it finally eases and we both heave a sigh in unison.

I look out over the edge of the terrace, over the smear of traffic and neon below us, because looking at her is getting dangerous. Because she’s standing too close. Because every time she asks for the truth, some stupid part of me wants to hand it over just to see what she does with it.

“A lot,” I finally say. It comes out rough and vague. Useless, so I reach for more. “It’s complicated now.”

“Complicated?”

I drag my tongue over the inside of my cheek, trying to find a version of this that doesn’t make me sound like a complete asshole. I fail.

“Back then, I figured Rafe and Kasia would fizzle out. I mean, she's a doctor, he's a… poetic lunatic honestly. A genius, sure, but he's lost in this shit sometimes. Him and Rith can disappear for days in their worlds. In their heads. I didn't see it lasting, you know?”

I should stop there but I don't because I'm an idiot. Because I’ve decided to walk directly into traffic and complain about the headlights.

“That it’d be another—” I shake my head once, already hating myself. “I don’t know. You’re both hot? Into rockstars and a good time?”

The warmth drains from her face, I can see it in my peripheral vision. My eyes snap to hers, apologetic. Regret arrives a second too late. Shit.

“I see,” she says.

My stomach drops.

“That’s not—”

“No, finish, please.” She folds her arms tight across her chest. “Go on. I can’t wait to hear this.”

“Look, it's the soju. I’m saying this wrong—”

“I’m fascinated now.” Her voice has gone cold enough to make the air feel warmer by comparison. “So what? I was just someone to fuck? Just free porn because I posted a few cute pictures and messaged the wrong asshole bassist?”