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“Not…exactly.” I pause, weighing my words. “Actually, no it’s not. This is a small town, so it’s fitting.”
“If you think this is pretty, you should check out the pastry shop down the street.” A frown sours her expression. “Rachel’s Place.”
“Bad blood between you two?”
She looks away. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She nibbles on her lip, staring at her hands.
“So.” She runs her fingers through her hair, looking past me. “Um. About that night…”
A faint blush colors her cheeks. “I shouldn’t…I mean, I was drunk. The alcohol—” She sucks in a breath and stares straight at me. “I was tipsy and careless. I shouldn’t have thrown myself at you like that.”
“That’s not what happened.”
She blinks. “What?”
“You didn’t throw yourself at me. It was a mutual thing.”
“Oh.” Clasping her hands in front of her, she nods slowly. “I see. Well, since you and I will be working together, I just feel we should clarify that —”
“It won’t happen again.”
Our eyes meet.
“Yes,” she says quietly. “I mean, no. No, it won’t.”
Silence descends between us. Outside, darkness has crept in. The streetlights reflect through the glass, and the streets have gone quiet. She raps her fingers on the table, pursing her lips. I should say something. Anything.
It won’t happen again. My own words leave a bitter taste of disappointment in my mouth. Which is weird. I shouldn’t want to make out with my best friend’s baby sister.
“We should start.”
“Here? I’m not with my laptop. Everything’s on it.”
“Then I guess we have to go to your house.”
Her throat moves. She laughs nervously, toying with her hair.
“I’ll get my things.”
I stare at her as she walks away, before shutting my eyes and releasing a long breath.
The only way I can stop feeling this way is to stop helping her. And I can’t do that. There’s too much at stake. The smell of her perfume teases my nose, and I open an eye. She’s shading over me, holding her tote bag and a brown paper bag.
“Your cinnamon rolls,” she says, holding it out to me.
I smile and take it from her. “Sweet.”
Chapter Five: Kaylee
Water. That’s what it feels like. Delicious little streams of pleasure flowing through me with every touch, every glide of his hand over my skin. His breath fanning my neck, my ear, my lips, my eyelids. Fingers moving down the curve of my neck, creeping so close to the swell of my breasts, past my belly button to my throbbing core.
I shake off the thoughts, trying hard — and failing — to ignore the fact that I just relived last night’s dream right in Ian’s presence. Until last night, I hadn’t had a clear dream in eons. What triggered it is clear: the unfinished business with Ian two days ago.
My cheeks flame as the memory resurfaces. Elena’s call was right on time. If she hadn’t called…
“So,” I clap my hands, then gesture to a couch. “I’ll get my laptop and be back in a sec.”
I dash into my room and grab my laptop from the bed. My reflection catches my eye. I pause. I’m in jeans and a loose-fitting blouse, and my hair’s messy. Dropping the laptop, I run a hand through my hair and start scanning the room for a comb.
