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Nate had said her brother was the same age as him.
She’d said her brother had been three years younger than her.
But that didn’t add up because Nate was only fourteen.
It didn’t fucking make sense.
Unless she lied to me.
Holy fuck. My hands clenched the steering wheel. No fucking way. She couldn’t be seventeen. I’d fucking know if I was fucking a fucking seventeen-year-old.
Holy fucking shit.
***
We walked into the kitchen. I leaned against the counter as she wrapped her arms around me. I groaned as her lips met mine. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This wasn’t good.
“Wait,” I said, pushing her away.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, her lips forming a pout. A fucking sexy pout.
I pushed myself off from the counter and walked around the other side. I needed space to think. If I asked her, then it was out there. I couldn’t un-ask. But maybe I didn’t want to know. I’d seen her fucking license. That was no fake.
If she wasn’t who she said she was, then she’d gone to a hell of a lot of trouble to change things. Once I asked her, it was out there. Maybe it was better for me not to know. Things could go on like they were, with me ignorant to the fact that I was fucking a minor.
“Nothing,” I muttered. I walked over to the kitchen. “Do you want a drink?”
“No, I’m good.” She was watching me. She could tell something was up, I could see it in the way she was staring at me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just feeling a little off,” I mumbled. I needed to get her out of there, but I couldn’t just kick her out. Not after what she’d just been through. But if she stayed much longer I was going to confront her, and I wasn’t sure either of us was ready for that.
My body stiffened as her arms curled around my waist. I didn’t pull away—I couldn’t.
She lifted herself up onto her toes, her lips brushing over mine. “Should you be lying down or something?” she asked, concerned.
My heart pounded as my hands found her, my fingers raking through her thick hair as I tasted her kiss. My head was screaming at me how wrong this was—but my heart refused to listen. I didn’t know anything for sure yet, and the longer I put off asking her, the longer I could go on kidding myself.
“Probably a good idea,” I said, my voice hoarse. I pushed her away and turned, resting my hands palms-down on the counter. “Are you going to be okay?” I asked her. Why did I suddenly feel like the world’s biggest asshole? Fuck.
She nodded. “Yeah. I should probably check in on Dee, anyway. Will I see you at the show later?”
“Sure,” I mumbled. “I’ll be there.”
I opened my eyes. It took me a minute to realize I’d fallen asleep on the sofa. The afternoon sun was streaming down on me through the window, so I knew I couldn’t have been sleeping for too long. I fumbled for my phone and saw two missed calls from Dad.
Sighing, I sat up. I clicked on his number and put the phone to my ear, waiting.
“Saxon, how are you?”
> “Good, Dad, what’s up?” I asked.
“What, I can’t call my son for a chat?” he laughed.
You never have before.
“Sure you can, but you’re not exactly the small talk kind of guy,” I said, my voice dry.
He laughed. “Okay, you’ve got me there. I just wanted to see how things were going. Harry mentioned you secured them a gig at LA Music Festival singing backup for a pretty big band.”
