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She rolls her eyes.
“Come on, you’re stalling. Tell me your worst memory.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Tell me.”
Kota doesn’t break eye contact right away, but when she does, she does it completely, turning her head to the side and dropping it to my chest, her ear directly over my heart.
Already knowing I’m not gonna like this, I take a deep, calming breath.
“I had just come back from an event and I was…conflicted. It was amazing. I had the best time. Noise, action, conversation, something going on every minute. But then I walk in the door and the house is completely silent, no one around. I’m just back here, you know, by myself. Again. So I came upstairs, walked into my room, and instantly, I felt like something was off.”
She pauses to swallow.
There’s no way she doesn’t notice my heart rate increasing.
Was someone in her room? Some sick fuck? Girl never locks her damn door.
“I was doing the normal stuff. Unpacking, checking my phone, when it happened.”
The story stops, like she can’t bring herself to finish it.
“What happened?” I prompt after a minute that feels like an hour.
She starts out quiet. “I opened the drawer and…” Then she gets louder, more dramatic. “…half my underwear was gone.”
Is… Is she serious right now?
Nothing on Kota moves until I push her up by her shoulders. The smirk she’s wearing is that combination only she can pull off—infuriating yet adorable.
I want to wring her fucking neck. But kiss her first.
And after.
And probably during.
The fuck!
“I thought you—” I can’t even make myself say it.
Absolutely fucking relentless, this girl demands as if I’m on trial, “What did you do with them?”
“Nothing,” I answer truthfully. “Jesus.”
One of her eyes flutters closed as she threatens, “I’m gonna find them.”
I can’t stop my smile from growing. That and my cock.
“Check in my pants first.”
“You said you couldn’t fit in them.”
“Only one way to find out. Stick your hand down there and—”
She hangs her head, making me laugh.
It was worth a shot.
