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“I’m not pigheaded,” Tyler argues.
I raise my eyebrows. “Um, you are.”
“Whatever. Look, cuz. Can you tell Day I’m sorry? I gotta go. I’m not in the mood for dinner now. I’m gonna call Mum and see if she knows anything.”
Aaron nods. “Sure. I’ll get Day to call you later if you want.”
“Thanks.”
I rub my thumb along my bottom lip as he leaves. Aaron stares at me, his lips quirked to one side.
“Go,” he says. “He won’t admit it because he’s a pigheaded bastard, but he needs someone to calm him down.”
“I’m sure he can find plenty of people to calm him down.”
“You’re not fooling anyone, Liv, and neither is he. We’ll do dinner next weekend. Go after him. He needs you to.”
I stand and grab my coat, giving Aaron one last look before I slip out the door after him.
“He needs you.” Dangerous words. Very dangerous words.
I pull out my phone and text Tyler.
Wait.
I take the elevator down and find him in the parking lot, resting against his car. “You weren’t thinking of leaving without me, were you?”
He drags his eyes up to me, and I drop the corner of my shirt over my shoulder, revealing my light-pink bra strap. Heat flares in the depths of his eyes, a desperate heat, and I get into his car without saying another word.
I lie on his bed on my stomach while he is on the phone with his mom in New York. He’s been out there for a while, and I’m nosy, so I open the drawers of his bedside cabinet. Contradicting myself at every turn, I know.
As much as I don’t want to know Tyler any better, I have a crazy desire to find out every little thing. I’m trying to convince myself that it’s a natural thing when you like a guy, but I know it’s not. That desire is more of a growing obsession, and that’s step two of my addiction.
Find out everything.
I pull out his passport and flip it open to the page with his photo. Judging by the date, he recently renewed it and updated the picture. Damn. There goes a possible giggle-fest.
I set it back into the drawer and finding nothing of interest in the top one, so I move to the second one. Now this is a goldmine of sexual goodness. Condoms, a couple of different lubes, and…
A bullet?
“Anything good in there?”
I look up and produce the bullet box. “Um?”
He grins, pushing the drawer shut with his foot. “It’s brand new. See? Sealed.” He undoes it and pulls out the tiny, purple vibrator.
“Yes, I’m just wondering why you have one.”
“Presumably for the same reason you do. To make you come.”
“You don’t need the bullet, or was I not clear enough half an hour ago?”
“It’s not just for that.” He switches it on. The quiet buzz fills the room, and he runs the tip of it down my neck and toward my breasts. “It’s for fun. Spice, remember?”
I wonder if he’s aware of how many times I’ve used my own bullet.
He turns it off and sets it on top of the nightstand. “Did you go in the third drawer?”
