Page 86 of The Beat Match

“You added to it.”

“What? No. Of course not.”

He flipped her onto her back, loomed over her like the sexy beast he was. “Lying comes with penalties.”

She would happily take punishment from Wes, her best friend and lover. She might have to add to that book every day for the rest of their lives, just to see this predatory gleam in his eyes, so she could reach for his wide shoulders, feel all that maleness gunning for her, and say, “Do your worst, Herbert.”

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Epilogue

Nine Months Later

“Have you seen my passport? I was sure I left it on the bookshelf.” Annie tore through her chaotic apartment, bulldozing through stray magazines and sheet music.

Weston leaned on the kitchen counter, enjoying the show. “On your bookshelf, where exactly? In that mess of half-finished puzzle books or tucked between the torn magazine pages that might spill over at any minute?”

She slanted him a dirty look. “My place is cluttered but organized, and I’m tired of you judging it. One more crack, and I’ll change the lock.”

“I’ll pick the lock.”

She pursed her lips. “I can’t believe Leo taught you that.”

“I also know how to jack a car.”

“Leo never stole a car. He didn’t even have a license.”

“You don’t need a license to steal a car.”

She puffed out a laugh, then side-eyed him. “Did he really steal a car?”

Weston mimed zipping his lips and tossing the key. Annie didn’t need to know about the night they’d taken a Mercedes for a joy ride to impress a couple of club girls.

He grabbed Annie’s passport from a stack of old phone books and raised it in the air. “Are you looking for this?”

She grabbed a couch pillow and tossed it at him. It landed a foot short of its target.

He sauntered over to her, passport in hand. “What were you saying about your organized clutter?”

She pressed her forehead against his chest. “This was a memory blip, not clutter.”

“Whatever you say, Squirrel. But we know which of the two of us is more organized.”

“Whatever.” She nuzzled closer. “You’d be lost without me.”

No argument from him. “I also wouldn’t have a pet rabbit I don’t hate.” The second those words were out, he flinched. He hadn’t meant to blurt that confession.

Annie pulled back, squinting one eye at him. “What do you mean I’m the reason you have Felix? You took him from your neighbor.”

“Yes. I did.” He scratched his nose. “That’s exactly what happened.”

She stepped fully away and crossed her arms. “You’re lying.”

He glanced at his watch. “Would you look at the time? We should really leave.”

“Explain about the rabbit.”

“We might miss our flight.”