Page 95 of Infatuation

“Coolio Iglesias,” Sarah says. “Let’s turn on some music—that always helps me get my second wind.” She flips through her music library on her laptop. “Oh,yes. My girl, Audra Mae—now there’s a voice that inspires greatness.” She presses play on a song and a freaking hurricane of a female voice blasts me and jolts me back awake.

“Who’s this?” I ask. “Oh my God. She’s incredible.”

“Audra Mae and the Almighty Sound,” Sarah says. “‘The Real Thing.’”

“Holy shitballs,” I say. “I’m gonna make this my ringtone. I’ve got goose bumps.”

We listen to the song all the way through, and when it ends, I want to hear it again.

“Play it on a loop, Sarah,” I say. “I’m already addicted. Gah!”

“Right? I know. She sings right from her soul.” She glances at Josh and Jonas across the room, their noses buried in Jonas’ laptop. “Hey, how are you boys doing over there? You’ve been going nonstop for hours.”

“Just coming up with a foolproof plan to fuck the bad guys up the ass, baby,” Jonas mutters, typing something on his keyboard.

“Jonas, your eyes are bugging out of your head—maybe you should take a short break—like, go work out or something?” Sarah says.

“There’s no time for that,” Jonas says, not taking his eyes off his screen. “I’m on a mission from God here, baby.”

Sarah begins to say something more, but Jonas cuts her off.

“Because I love my baby more than life itself.”

Sarah takes in a sharp breath. “Holy crappola,” she whispers.

“Holy shitballs,” I reply, my heart racing vicariously for her. “Is that the first time?”

She shakes her head. “No, but definitely the first time in front of other people.”

“Aw.” I grab her hand. “Our little boy is growing up.”

Sarah smiles broadly. “That gorgeous man never ceases to surprise me.”

“I could say the same thing about that gorgeous man’s brother,” I say.

I stare at Josh for a long beat. He’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt today, a rarity for the ever-fashionable Playboy, and he looks hot as freaking hell. Jesus God, everything about that man—from his taut musclesto the slight wave of his dark hair to his sly smile, even the dragon on his bicep peeking out from his short sleeve—is drawing me to him uncontrollably.

But, damn, he’s stubborn. And guarded, too—deceptively so. He comes off as so open and easygoing, but he’s hiding darkness under there, I can feel it. I try to imagine Josh fucking me in a bunny suit, but that doesn’t ring true. More than likely, he’s into S&M, right? He’s gotta be some kind of a dom—into whips and chains and butt plugs. I imagine myself calling him “master” in a doggie collar and my clit pulses. I could work with that. Or, whoa, wait, maybe he’s asub? Holy Not What I’m Hoping For, Batman. Not at all. That’s the thing—it could beanything.It’s killing me not knowing.

“Kat?” Sarah says.

“Sorry,” I say. “Got distracted.”

Sarah gives me a document and asks me to scour it for any references to international money transfers.

“Sure thing,” I say. But the words on the page are beginning to blur. My head is bobbing on my neck like I’m a drowsy truck driver. I didn’t even study this hard in college, for crying out loud.

For the hundredth time tonight, I glance over at Josh across the room. He’s engaged in an animated conversation with Jonas about... What the heck are those two jabbering about now?—I strain to listen over the music on Sarah’s laptop—oh, which NFL quarterback is the greatest of all time. Well, that’s an easy one:Joe Montana. Everyone knows that. Duh. Surely, my dad, mom, and three out of four of my brothers would say the same thing.

“It’s a no-brainer,” Josh says. “Joe Montana.”

I smile broadly to myself. Josh would fit right in with my family.

“That’s the conventional answer,” Jonas says. “But I’d argue Peyton Manning has recently overtaken the top spot.”

I roll my eyes. Well, that’s plain ridiculous.

“No way,” Josh says from across the room. “That’s fucking ridiculous.”

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