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Curiosity eats at me. “What was her response?”
“That she wasn’t interested in finding followers. She just wanted to focus on creating music.”
Huh.
Interesting.
Most people would do just about anything to find a little fame. Especially if they have a talent that can be exploited on social media. It’s just another example of how different this girl is. Sometimes it feels like the more I learn, the less I understand.
As tempting as it is to pump Lance for more intel, I’m impatient to see Britt.
I jerk my head toward the door. “I should probably get moving, but I’ll catch you soon, all right?”
“Yup.” He takes a few steps toward his own apartment before swinging around with a cheery smile. “Remember what I said.”
He’s joking, right?
It’s not every day that someone threatens me with bodily harm.
“It would be hard to forget,” I mutter, twisting the key and stepping inside the entryway. The fragrant aroma of lasagna still hangs heavy in the air.
If I closed my eyes, it would feel like home.
Mom would be proud.
It’s only when I step farther into the beautifully decorated space that I realize Britt is curled up on the couch with a textbook splayed open on her lap. Her guitar is propped against the wall in a corner.
“Hi,” she says.
“Hey.” I nod toward the well-loved instrument that looks as if it’s seen better days. “Were you just playing?”
Her gaze flickers away for a second or two as she shakes her head. “Nope.”
Caught off guard by the lie, disappointment flares inside me before I stomp it down.
“Huh. That’s weird. Pretty sure I heard music coming from inside.”
Instead of responding, she sets the book on the coffee table and jumps to her feet. “Do you want something to eat?”
Before I can respond, she slips past me and swings into the tiny kitchen. Unable to help myself, I drop my bag in the living room and gravitate toward her. It’s like there’s an invisible string connecting us.
I’m beginning to wonder if there’s anywhere she could lead that I won’t follow.
She opens a cabinet door and pulls out a plate before beelining to the stove where the pan sits. I peek over her shoulder and notice that one slice is missing.
When she spins around, nearly crashing into my chest, our gazes catch and hold. Every muscle tightens, going on high alert. I’m waiting for the smallest sign that she wants to finish what we started before I took off earlier. It’s all I’ve been able to think about.
Maybe I shouldn’t have left her hanging…
Or maybe I just want her to feel even a tenth of the need that courses through me where she’s concerned.
One agonizing heartbeat passes and then another before she clears her throat. The growing tension between us dissolves as she thrusts the plate toward my chest.
The smile she flashes looks strained around the edges. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” I glance down and realize that she’s given me two thick wedges.
“I bet you’re hungry,” she says by way of explanation.
“Starving.” My gaze remains fastened to hers. “But not for this.”
Her eyes widen and the delicate lines of her throat constrict as she swallows.
My brain trips back to the weekend in Vegas and the way she looked on her knees, staring up at me as she took my cock.
Said appendage twitches and rises in my sweatpants with growing interest.
She tucks a stray lock of caramel-colored hair behind her ear. “What are you hungry for?”
“You.”
I set the plate on the counter before eating up the distance between us. And then my hands are cupping her cheeks, and my mouth is crashing onto hers. That’s all it takes for her sweetness to flood my senses until I’m dizzy with it.
How I walked away earlier, I have no idea.
Everything about this girl consumes me.
Our tongues tangle as our teeth scrape. Arousal pumps through every cell of my being.
When we finally come up for air, she gasps, “Colby…”
“Tell me, sweet girl…did you miss me as much as I missed you?”
I nip her lower lip with my teeth before peppering kisses across her face.
“I wish I could say no.”
Satisfaction swells inside me like an overinflated balloon. I was half expecting her to tell me the same and that I’d have to fight her to admit the truth.
It’s a relief that we’ve moved past that.
“But you can’t.”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“And you hate it.”
“I really do,” she admits with a sigh.
A grin spreads across my face. “Good. It would seem like my evil plan is working.”
Her lips quirk. “Unfortunately, I think you might be right.”
26
BRITT
I pinch my eyes shut as the muscles in my lower abdomen cramp. It feels like they’re being squeezed in a vise.
That’s all it takes for a whimper to escape from me.
Most months are like this.
Some are worse than others.
This one is bad.
Really bad.
Bad enough that I didn’t even attempt my nine o’clock class this morning. Instead, I shot my instructor an email to let her know that I wasn’t feeling well. Colby rolled out of bed as streaks of orange and red painted the horizon with vibrant color. He kissed me and said something about getting to an early morning practice and that he’d be back later.
