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“I don’t know. Maybe. It’s hot but not enough to kill anyone.”
“I’ll have that looked at.”
Smiling at him from under my hat, I pat his chest. “You’re still visiting me tomorrow for face painting, right?”
West loses his grumpy frown and flashes the most mesmerizing smile. “Afterward, I’ll take you out, and we can talk more.”
“And kiss,” I say and lift my lips so he’ll plant one before I flee from the sun.
West’s hands cradle my jaw as he provokes a completely useless horniness inside me. Like, what can I even do with this feeling now that he’s leaving?
“What’s all this?” Juno asks from the stairs near the upper front door.
“I brought pizza.”
My blonde, freckled cousin replies, “I meant the man-meat.”
Tripp snickers at this comment, making Juno smile at him. I think she’s hot for the attractive doofus. Tripp isn’t nearly as handsome as “I’m West Mercer,” but his interest will likely last longer.
“He’s why we have food,” I tell my cousin. “Thank him.”
“Thank you, mister,” Juno says and bats her lashes.
“Hope you didn’t do anything permanent for this food,” Zelda mutters while taking the bags I hand up to her.
“Permanent?” I ask.
My brunette-and-freckled cousin frowns. “No babies in the house.”
“Oh, no, you can’t make babies through kissing. Even my terrible ‘sex equals death’ education taught me that much.”
Rolling her brown eyes, she walks up to the door where Juno lingers. I sense them wanting details, so I turn to West.
“Thank you for saving me today,” I say, stroking his chest. “I’m sorry I don’t remember you from all those years ago. However, I will most definitely never forget today.”
West narrows his eyes, still in disbelief at how anyone could witness his beauty without memorizing every feature.
Rather than complain, he kisses me again. My resulting horniness sets my overheated skin on fire. I can’t imagine what fucking would be like. I might actually burst into flames and burn down our love nest. Or the gas station where we pork near a dumpster. Huh, I wonder where we’ll fuck for the first time?
“Alexis,” Juno says when I just stare at West, who smiles at my dumbstruck expression.
“Thanks,” I tell him and back away before climbing the stairs to where my cousins wait. “See you tomorrow.”
West doesn’t leave, even after I enter the slightly less obnoxiously hot duplex. I listen for his motorcycle, but he sticks around. Maybe he’s talking to Tripp. Or possibly he’s planning to put up a tent and stalk me until he finally gets that dumpster bang I was imagining.
“What’s that all about?” Juno asks me as Zelda looks through the bag.
Sighing, I lean against the wall and mumble, “Rutiluphilia.”
“I don’t speak whatever language that is.”
“It’s a fetish for redheads. West’s got it bad. Seen it a dozen times.”
“La-di-da,” Zelda says before disappearing down the narrow front hall toward the small living room-kitchen combo.
Juno wraps an arm around my shoulders. “That is one handsome slice of salami. You would be smart to please him sexually, so he keeps offering you free food.”
“What’s the going rate for blowjobs?” I ask as we enter the living room. “Is that barbecued ribs? No, wait, brisket.”
“You better get lobster for anal!” Zelda cries out from the kitchen despite it not being far enough away to need to yell.
I don’t stick around for more food-to-fucking equations. After a shower and a failed attempt at masturbation, I decide meditation with my yellow-and-orange crystal ball—named Citrine in honor of my dreams of living full of joy, abundance, and, of course, transmutation—will make sense of West’s Wild Ride.
