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I didn’t mean to make her self-conscious about her body. That wasn’t my intention at all. It’s like she’s trying to hide herself, and as far as I’m concerned, this woman shouldn’t be hiding anything. She should be showing it off. She’s got the kind of body made to be admired and the kind of breasts meant to have hundred-dollar bills shoved between them.
Actually, no scratch that.
I don’t want anyone else looking at Sienna’s breasts, and the sudden thought makes me feel angsty, my skin too tight. And that in itself is all kinds of screwed up because why the hell do I care who looks at her.What is wrong with me?I barely know this woman.
“Kael?”
My head snaps up. “Yeah?”
“Tell me what Devon said that upset you so much.”
“It pissed me off what he said about the band not wanting anything to do with me anymore.”
“Why exactly?”
“Because those guys mean the world to me.”
“And you think you’ve let them down?”
Regret roars through me, hot and raw. “Of course I’ve let them down.” Taking a deep breath, I shake my head and squeeze my eyes closed tightly, pushing my fingers into my eyeballs so hard that all I can see are purple swirls and red squares. “I’ve let everyone down. I’ve let myself down.”
“Admitting that is a huge step.”
Opening my eyes again, I can’t help but laugh. “You sound like a therapist when you say stuff like that.”
Sienna smiles.Smiles.And I just about fall off the couch.
“Did you just smile?”
“No.”
“You did. Go on. Do it again. You know you want to.”
She sighs, but then smiles again, though this time it’s a self-deprecating smile. Halfhearted. Pathetic, really.
“You can do better than that. Try again.”
This time Sienna smiles so big it almost looks painful, all white teeth and stretched cheeks that quickly turn pink with how much duress she’s currently putting them under. She looks constipated, or worse.
“Now you just look fucking insane!”
This causes a sharp breath to fly from her mouth that’s clearly designed to disguise her amusement.Smart-ass.Either she’s trying not to smile again, or she’s having severe stomach cramps. I’m not sure which one it is at this point.
“So, how old are you, Jonesy?” I ask, moving to get more comfortable.
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Just curious.”
“Twenty-seven.”
I nod. “Me too.”
“You’re actually twenty-eight, Kael. I’ve read your file, remember? You had a birthday a month ago. Did you forget?”
Everything goes quiet. Silence reigns supreme.
What the hell?
