Page 93 of Revelation

“But you know what?”

I wait.

“Ireallylike sassy.”

I bite my lip. My heart is racing at his simple touch.

“Did I hurt your feelings?” he asks softly. His fingers move up my arm and drift along my jawline. “When I said you’re a flop-dick when it comes to relationships?”

I smile. “Oh, is that what you said? Jeez, that’s a whole lot meaner than what Ithoughtyou said. All I thought you said was you wouldn’t hire me to write some textbook.”

He chuckles. His fingertips skim the length of my hairline.

“I’m not mad at you,” I say softly. “I’m the opposite of mad at you.”

He smiles wickedly. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Josh touches my chin and my body ignites. He leans in and kisses me gently.

We sit and stare at each other for a moment. A legion of butterflies has unleashed inside my stomach.

His eyes drift to my empty glass. “Would you like another one, Party Girl? The night is still young.”

“Yes, thank you. But not nearly as strong this time, Playboy. I wanna be fully conscious for whatever might happen next. Something tells me it’s gonna be good.”

He smirks. “Good idea.” He stands, grabs my glass, and heads toward the kitchen—but before he turns the corner, he turns back around. “Hey, Kat. Thanks for always playing the honesty-game with me. So few people do that with me—most people just kiss my ass.”

“Well, you can hardly blame ‘most people,’ Josh—you’ve got a truly kissable ass.”

He grins. “Thanks to the ‘YOLO’ stamped on it—which, I’m telling you is gonna be all the rage one of these days, mark my words.”

I laugh. “Keep telling yourself that, Playboy, if it helps you look yourself in the eye every day.”

His blue eyes are positively sparkling at me right now. “Your drink is coming right up, Party Girl.”

“Thanks.”

“My extreme pleasure.”

25

KAT

Ifeel myself literally swoon as Joshua William Faraday exits the living room to fetch us another round of drinks. That man is so freaking charming, and so freaking hot, and so freaking funny and adorable and sweet and generous and sexy (and I could go on and on), it’s just not fair. I feel like I’m playing tennis against Roger Federer armed with nothing but a fly swatter.

I can’t remember the last time I felt like this—so gooey and heart-fluttery and fairytale-believe-y and emotional. I’ve got to get a grip on myself, slow my shit the fuckdown. Tap into Classic Kat for a while. Jeez. My feelings are moving too effing fast, especially considering whom I’m dealing with here.

Oh my God, I’m losing it. Fallinghard.

This is so unlike me. I’m never the onechasingthe guy—I’m always the one beingchased. I’m the one who says, “I’m not sure I’m feeling it, sorry,” and thenhesays, “Well, then, baby, lemme try toconvinceyou.” Isn’t thatexactlywhat Cameron said? Yep. After one date, he was ready to chase me to the ends of the earth, God knows why.

And that’s the way I like it. Ilikebeing chased. What the hell did Josh tell Henn when he was being “Hitch” and teaching Henn to “dick it up”? I scoff out loud at the memory, even though I’m sitting here alone in this room. “Womenthinkthey wanna be chased,” Josh said, “that’s what all the movies and books tell ’em they want—but they don’t. Not really. If you do the equivalent of driving to her house and holding a boom box over your head, you might as well hand her your dick and balls in a Ziplock baggie, too, ’cause you’re not gonna need ’em any more.”

What a big ol’ bunch of bullshit. Of course, we wanna be chased. Idiot.

And, yet, here I am, aching for him, ready to hand him my whole heart and soul, aren’t I? And he’s the one who always pulls back.

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