Page 93 of Anthem of Love and Loathing

There’s only one pocket left. It has to be in here.

Gotcha. I pull out the only thing inside. His lyric book. It’s bulky and the pages don’t sit right. When I let it fall open, the reason for its bulkiness is revealed. My journal.

“Jasper, you can—”

Shit. My heart catches at Riot’s voice. He’s meant to be on stage. I whirl around, hiding the books behind my back as he enters the room.

His focus drops to where my arms disappear behind my back and then lower to his bag on the couch. The only pocket left opened is the one where his lyric book and my journal were. His gaze settles on my face. “Going through my things?”

Crap. I should have shoved it under the couch cushion.

“You can go ahead and stand outside, Jasper,” Riot orders.

“Don’t leave,” I say.

Jasper’s gaze bounces between the two of us like we’re a tennis match.

“You don’t want him to stay.” Riot stalks toward me, his gaze dark.

I nod at Jasper. Swallow. I’m a big girl who can handle myself. Right? “It’s okay.”

“Trying to steal from me? Again.” Riot stops in front of me as Jasper leaves the room. He stretches out a hand, palm up. “Give it to me.”

I hand over his lyric book.

He tosses it on the couch and curls his fingers twice. “And the other one.”

“No.” I stand my ground. “It’s mine.”

“Last chance,” he says.

I raise my chin. “Screw you.”

He smirks. “Fine.”

He’s actually going to let me keep my journal? Finally.

He whips an arm around my waist and tosses me onto his shoulder.

I drop my journal with a yelp.

His footsteps are sure and determined despite my fists pounding on his back and my wriggling attempts to wrestle free. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“You didn’t think I’d let you steal from me and not punish you, did you?” Rounding the couch, he puts me on my feet facing the back of the piece of furniture.

“You stole from me first,” I seethe.

“Filthy little liar.” He takes my hands and puts them on the cushioned top of the couch. His palm smooths up my spine, bending me over. “Brace.”

“No.” But I want to. I just don’t want him aware of how much I want to.

“No?” His hands skim from my hips to the hem of my dress. He hikes it up, exposing my ass to the cold air. “You’re determined to be a bad girl?”

My core clenches. Did I orgasm earlier? What orgasm?! “You stole my journal.”

“Now I’m going to steal your panties.” He hooks his fingers into the sides and drags them down until they fall to my ankles. Crouching, he grasps my ankle and lifts my foot to free the silk. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re the thief here. And you will admit it.”

“No. I won’t.” Since I have no idea what he’s talking about and never took anything from him.