I’m not.
Her position allows me to see up her skirt clearly, and she’s either wearing the smallest thong on earth— Or she isn’t wearing anything under that dress.
My body tightens with more lust.
My blood heats with raw anger.
“You coming up?” she asks me, as if nothing’s fucking wrong.
“Kira . . . tell me you’re wearing something under that.” Fists clenched, I struggle for some semblance of calm.
The insidious question nagging at the back of my mind bursts forward—did Kira dress up like that for Austin?
This motherfucking pain, man. It’s the reason I’m willing to take whatever she throws at me. I didn’t realize it at the time, but this is what I did to her, what I made her feel for too damn long.
I’ll take all of it. Including this hit. I deserve it.
Exhaling, I grab on to the ladder.
She rushes up into the tree house, not answering my question.
Sure, go ahead, girl. Leave that knife shoved inside my chest. Fifty-fifty right?
I follow her up into the tree house, not believing that I let her convince me to do this. We’re going to be arrested if we’re caught.
When I get inside, Kira’s sitting down against the far wall. All I can see is her outline, her long hair falling over her shoulders.
We’re not up here to have sex.
I’m having a hard time convincing myself of that. Having an even harder time believing that she isn’t entertaining the idea as much as I am. That she isn’t thinking of us tearing into each other up here, in the dark, in the same place we spent so many hours playing as children.
Fuck, that thought turns me on. I’m probably a sick bastard for that, but I can’t help it.
I move closer to her. Can’t have her. She’s had too much to drink. The litany runs through my mind. A warning.
If I do anything with her now, she’ll have an excuse to pretend it was all a mistake tomorrow.
No. The next time I touch Kira, I want her fully aware that she’s letting me. That she fucking wants it as much as I do.
It’s still hell. Every inch that I move closer, all I imagine is fisting all that hair and bringing her to my mouth.
I sit down slightly across from her. Her head turns in my direction. “Turn on your phone’s light,” she whispers in a fucking siren’s voice.
“It’s not a good idea for us to be up here.” I wish she understood how much I mean that.
“It’s not a good idea for me to be up here with you, you mean.”
That comment shouldn’t sting as much as it does. “I rather you be up here with me than anyone else,” I growl.
“Then turn on the light.”
Shit. Mother of fuck. Her voice.
Like the pathetic slave I am, I bring my phone out and do as she says. As soon as the light is on and I can stare into her eyes, I ask her that question. The evil one that won’t leave me the hell alone. “Did you dress up like this for Austin?” Damn it, I need to know, even if that answer ends up ruining me.
She just stares at me with her big hazel eyes. Eyes that are usually so expressive. Now I can’t read them. She’s getting good at hiding what’s on her mind. Especially from me.
I grind my teeth at that realization.
“It’s not cool what you did back there, Brayden. Taking my keys.”
My shoulder jerks in a shrug. “I’ll apologize for a million things, but not that. I wanted you out of there.”
“What if I storm into your life and get in the way of you having fun?”
I laugh at that. She still doesn’t get it. At this point, I’m starting to wonder just how far I’ll have to go to convince her. “I’m yours. You have permission to do whatever the hell you want to me.”
She seems to mull that over. “You wanted me out of there . . . why? Because Austin was there?”
The teeth grinding resumes. “Yes.”
“You shouldn’t care so much.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” It takes all my self-control to keep from yelling out. “He loves you. You . . . you feel something for him. I don’t know what, but it’s there. I told you I’d forgive you for choosing him, but don’t expect me to just sit back and do nothing to try to stop it. Until you make that choice, I’m going to fight like hell for you.” This topic grates. A feeling I can’t stand, scratching its way through me.
On top of it all, Kira continues to sit there, calm as can be. “I love how you still think you have any say in that decision.”
I run both my hands through my hair. “He went back and slept with Jennifer.”
“I’ll remind you again—so did you.”
“When I was seventeen, and not after sleeping with you. You . . . fuck!” Saying it is almost as hard as remembering it. But not saying it isn’t going to erase the fact that it happened, either. “You gave yourself to him. He was your first, and he still ran back to her.”
Her eyes drop, but not before I see what flashes in them.