Page 115 of Till The Sun Dies (Checkmate 2)

That’s my sister.

Ang steps back into the room in jeans and a tank top that sticks to his still wet chest. Bare feet, wet hair, stubbled jaw, his wary eyes go to the wall, then back to me. “Um…”

“I don’t know what to do right now.”

He snorts. “I mean… we’re kinda trapped. Wanna go to the honky-tonk bar?”

Skeeter pops into my mind and extinguishes whatever strange flutters that were battering inside my stomach. “No, definitely not. I hope Skeeter trips into a flaming trash can and never comes back out again.”

Ang’s lips twitch. “Music, then?” He steps to the table and turns his cellphone up until the tinny bass matches the thumping coming from the other room. “How is it we can still hear them?” He throws his hands up. “Fuck, this might be one of the weirdest moments of my life. She’s basically my little sister, but she’s doing nasty not-a-little-sister shit with a gangster right now, and I don’t know if I’m grossed out or turned on.”

A tear slides out of my eye and over my cheek. Not a sad tear, not the tear of a traumatized girl, but one borne of laughter that isn’t allowed to be noisy. “God, you said nasty. You said she’s doing the nasty.”

“She is! She’s being all sorts of filthy nasty, and I’m a little bit uncomfortable because of it.”

Finally letting my laughter escape, I drop back on the bed and let my arms rest over my head. “This is so unbelievably awkward.Welcome to vacation, let’s all touch ourselves because Jess and Kane are horndogs and like to be loud when they’re doing the nasty.” I snort. “Come sit down if you wanna, turn the music up. They’ll be awhile.”

“What?” He stops halfway across the small room. “How long can they possibly be?”

I blindly fish around in my bowl of gravy for a fry. “I think he prides himself on endurance. Like, I wouldn’t be surprised if they set a timer, then next time, he works on lasting longer.” I turn when Ang sits on the bed. “He’s nasty, and maybe he’s trying to bang for the whole country. You know, taking one for the team and all that.”

His chest bounces. “I can’t deal with this shit. We should just take our asses to the beach now. Leave them here.”

“I’d miss her.” I talk around a mouthful of gravy, ignoring my sister’s cries. “Tomorrow, we get a better hotel. Thicker walls.”

“A different state,” he suggests. “I don’t mean a different state from here. I mean a different state from them. Do you think we’ll still hear them if we–”

“We’ll still hear them no matter where we go. I’ve tried noise canceling headphones. I’ve tried being in the garage working on Wanda. I’ve tried calling you. They don’t keep it quiet.”

With a deep sigh as though to prepare himself, Ang lies back on the bed until his knee touches mine, the container of heart attack nestled between us. “I cannot believe this is where my life has ended up. In a seedy hotel, on a bed probably covered in dirty dude jizz, while listening to little Jess fuck against the wall.”

Quietly laughing, I turn and study his profile; the slightly crooked nose, the stubble that’s normallythree-day-beard, but today is barber shop fancy. His long hair used to be long enough for a ponytail, but now carries that same sleekness as his jaw. Messing up his haircut the other day has resulted in something truly sexy.

When he turns and looks into my eyes, my mind conjures an image of us kissing. Of him reaching through the foot of space between us until his lips press against mine and all my questions aboutusare answered. The thought should scare me, it should fucking terrify me, but it doesn’t.

If Angelo Alesi were to try to kiss me right now, I wouldn’t say no.

But he doesn’t. And I don’t make the move, because my fear of rejection is strong. Instead, I clear my throat and turn away when he doesn’t close the gap and our stare-off becomes too much. I can’t take the pressure.

I’m not the fearless girl I once was.

So, like a coward, I stare at the ceiling and pray he can’t hear my thumping heart. “This is life now, so we may as well get used to it.” I rest a hand on my belly and pray for my heart to slow. “What if the place we stay at tomorrow has thin walls, too?”

Scoffing, he starts digging thick fingers into my dinner. “I’m putting you and me up in the Waldorf tomorrow. Or we can sleep on the beach. Or the wholeleaving them behindthing is still an option.”

I don’t dare watch him fill his mouth with gravy covered fries. Twenty minutes ago, I was back in the club with Graham and on the edge of a panic attack. Now, my stomach tingles in the most inappropriate way while the guy I grew up knowing as a sort-of-brother licks gravy off his fingers.

I can’t deal with my conflicting emotions.

“I’ll pay for somewhere fancy. My treat,” Ang continues. “Whatever we need to do to not hearthat.” The song that was playing ends, and in the five seconds of silence between songs, Jess’ groans make my face flame all over again. “I vote for leaving them behind.”

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