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That’s my girl. My lips twitched. Fuck. I wasn’t supposed to be thinking like that. But this was fun. A distraction. And for as much as I wished it were different, feeling Celeste pressed up against me was addictive. A false high I never thought I’d chase.
Me: Down by the res.
Einstein: At a party?
I hit her number and waited.
“Z-Zane?” she whispered. “I can’t talk, someone might—”
“Meet me here.”
“I can’t get there. I don’t have my car.”
Shit. That was a problem.
“Meet me on your side of the res then. At the water tower.”
“I… It’s dark. It’s getting la—”
“I need you, Einstein,” I breathed, feeling the words roll through me. The truth of them. “I fucking need you, okay?”
“Zane, what happened?”
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck.Fuck.
“It’s been a rough day. I’m wired. Can you meet me or not?” My tone was harsh, and I heard her suck in a sharp breath.
“I… yeah, okay. Give me an hour.”
“Thirty minutes.”
“Forty.”
“Done. And Einstein, don’t let me down.”
* * *
She was late.
And my mood was in the fucking gutter.
I’d finished off the six-pack of beer and walked around the res to the water tower. I rarely came out here. It was DA territory, and usually, we stayed on our side and they stayed on theirs. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and I was about as desperate as I could get.
Headlights cut through the night sky and Celeste’s Range Rover came into view. She cut the engine and hopped out.
“I went home to get my car.”
“What the fuck are you wearing?” The words tumbled out.
“What’s wrong with it?” Her cheeks flushed.
“Nothing’s wrong with it…” My gaze dropped down her body, lingering on the swell of her hips, her mouthwatering curves.
Shit. Nothing was wrong with it, but the dress hugged the lines of her body, taunting me with what lay underneath, and her legs… fuck me, she wasn’t wearing any stockings.
“Aren’t you cold?”
