Page 18 of Give & Take

“Nova, let go.”

“Not until you talk to him!”

I grit my teeth. “Nova!”

“Mom!”

God, she looks and sounds so much like me right now it’s uncanny.

I take a breath, turning around. Then I swallow, because he’s right there, smiling at me. His golden eyes don’t move from mine. I can feel my pulse begin to race again.

No.

He has no right being this goddamned handsome.

He also has no right barging in on my interviews like this.

I take a discreet, bracing breath. “This isn’t a joke, you know,” I say. The words come out harsh with the effort. Clipped.

Hurt.

It works. Raphael’s suddenly serious. “I know that.”

“I need a responsible adult to look after my children for the summer. You know, my children, the reason I livefor. You can’t just waltz in here and ask for a job application.”

I know even as the words come out that they’re not even close to true. The man is clearly responsible—he raised his brothers. He’s working on a doctorate. He’s probably saved several kittens from burning buildings. But the rational part of my brain is drowning in my need to keep him safely away from me.

“Do you have a job application?” Raph asks.

“What? This isn’t a… Pizza Hut.” I wave my hand in front of me.

“I’m aware you’re not a pizza chain, Lana.”

Oh no.He can’t say my name like that.Lana.The word glides out of him, rolling around on his tongue like something warm and delicious.I hate it. I can’t stand it.

I love it.Theelectric, intimate feeling of hearing my name in his mouth runs scattershot through my whole body.

“Hey,” Raphael says, mistaking my stillness—my grappling of the two beasts wrestling inside of me—for something else.

And he rests a hand on my forearm.

It takes all my effort to ignore the heat his touch brings. To despise it, for what it’s doing to me.

I turn, eyes cool, my mask drawn down tight.

He drops his hand. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Lana.”

Nova snorts behind the door. I’d almost forgotten she was there.

“Shit,” he says, then claps a hand over his mouth.

This time, I yank the door. Not so hard she goesflying, but hard enough she’s not expecting it. I hear a “Whoa-a-a!” as I shut it tight.

I open my mouth to tell Raphael to walk away. Now.

But when he removes his hand from his face, his expression is sober. “Lana.”

And there’s my name in his mouth again, as intimate as if he’d?—

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