Page 33 of Crazy About Love (All About Love)

The fire escape clangs again.

Laughing at myself for being so stupid, I run to the edge to look over. I can’t see anything or anyone on the death stairs, but they are wobbling, creaking, clanging.

“Hey!” I call down to no answer, not that I expected one. “All right, if you’re gonna run, I’ll let you. But don’t rush on those stairs. Be careful. And call your mom!”

I stand back to let them get on with it without me watching. Rian’s standing behind me, holding out the basketball, ready to drop it on top of whatever head pops from the shadows. I quickly grab it from her.

“Hey!”

“Don’t let some punk-ass kid ruin our night, yeah?”

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. “You are too good, Alex with ac.” She blinks up to me, and her arms drop. “Um…you’re bleeding.”

“What?” I reach up under my nose, and wetness stings my finger. “Oh. Guess that basketball was just one hit to the face too many.”

She giggles, and then the sound of fabric ripping echoes across the court. I look down to see Rian tearing at the hem of her shirt.

“Aw, I kinda liked that shirt,” I say through a grin. She shrugs, balls up the piece of material, and pushes it against my nose.

“Guess I won’t be going down while we…go down, like I’d originally planned.” She lets out a faux-disappointed sigh, tugging me toward the elevator. And no offense to her, but I’ve decided that I’d like to kiss her for longer than three seconds before she gives me a blow job. Call me old-fashioned.

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