Page 66 of Ablaze

Rohan raised his hands. “Listen, that’s not something I can tell you. I’ve never asked her how she’s felt about you straight up, and I doubt she’d tell me even if I did. That’s something for you to figure out. But if you’re here asking for my blessings or some shit, well, all I’ll say is this, asshole. You fucking ever hurt my baby sister, you hurt me. Samantha, Sage, Mala . . . they’re mine. Mine until my last breath, you got me? If you break her heart–”

“I won’t,” I cut him off confidently.

“Good.” His jaw ticked. “I don’t know what the fuck happened with her and Warren. She never told me, but given the way she found another place in the matter of a weekend and the fact that she hasn’t been with anyone since, I know things ended badly. My only regret is not breaking the fucker’s nose. I know he fucked something up between them and then skipped town like a weasel.”

I tried to keep my sneer to myself, not giving away the fact that I’d done the job for him. I hope the asshole looks at his crooked nose in the mirror every day and sees his self-loathing and cowardice stare back at him, reminding him that he had the fucking audacity to physically hurt a woman.

Rohan gave me a nod before he pulled me in for a one-armed bro-hug. “Glad you finally grew some balls, brother. Now go tell her.”

I didn’t argue about the balls comment. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. I’d allowed fear to overrule my heart like a fool, and my head kept me from recognizing what my heart had always known.

And before we went our separate ways, I got one quick promise out of him–to keep my admission to himself until I told her myself.

My phone lights up, glowing with a text from her inside my darkened truck.

Sprinkles: A heart. A promise.

I smile, knowing that was an easy one for the queen of riddles. I’m going to find one she won’t be able to solve one of these days. Call it a life goal.

Me: Did I wake you?

My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I imagine what she might be wearing in bed. Maybe that crop top I’ve been lucky enough to see a few times. Her tits always look magnificent in that, and without even having seen them before, I know her nipples will be the perfect size.

I groan, palming my hardening dick over my pants at the thought of running my tongue over her pebbled nipples. Would she writhe under my touch? Would her soft pants fill the air along with her scent? Would her pussy drip like an overflowing pot of honey, waiting for me to sink my tongue into it, lapping up every fucking drop.

Jesus Christ. If I don’t redirect my damn mind right the fuck now, I’ll be walking up to her place with a large wet spot on the front of my jeans.

Sprinkles: Would you be sorry if I said yes?

Me: No. I’d just turn back around and not knock on your door.

A moment passes, and I gather she’s realizing what I just said.

Sprinkles: You’re at my door?

And before she can get out of bed and get to her door, I run out of my truck and rush up the stairs to her apartment.

She opens the door only a second later, and the reason for the quickened pace of my heart is replaced with something else entirely. My gaze strolls down, snagging on the luscious skin of her neck to her black nightie.

Even with the dim nightlight illuminating her form, I can make out her taut nipples and the bottoms of her breasts under the thinnest material. With thin straps over her shoulders, it barely reaches below her ass.

She follows my predatory gaze down her body, shifting in place from one gorgeous bare leg to another when she realizes what she’s wearing. Her hand finds the old burned flesh on her other wrist, a tell of her nerves. “Uh . . .”

My eyes blaze against hers before I fist my hands at my sides to stop myself from ripping the thin straps off her shoulder.

I don’t know why irritation flows through my bloodstream right alongside the adrenaline, but it’s probably for that reason that I sound more like a jealous boyfriend than the best friend she knows. “Tell me you don’t always answer the door wearing that tiny excuse for pajamas this late in the evening.”

Confusion flickers between her sleepy lids before she blinks it away, raising her chin and holding back a smile. “No. My regular callers see me in what I usually wear at this hour.” Her brow rises defiantly. “Nothing.”

My nostrils flare, and I’m seconds away from throwing her over my knee to give her a not-so-discreet account of what I’d like to do with that smart little mouth of hers. The woman has been hellbent on testing my resolve since the day she strutted those phenomenal legs into my life, and I’m barely holding on for both our sakes.

I tilt my chin toward her entryway instead, my palms sweaty. “Can I come in?”

She must see the lack of humor on my face and tries to lighten the mood as she swings the door open wider. “You know, if you needed a refill on those hormone-balance treats, you could have just texted me. I would have brought them to the station tomorrow.”

I run my hand through my hair, turning toward her once inside. “I, uh . . . I needed to talk to you. I’m sorry it’s so late but . . . I couldn’t wait any longer.”

“Ah.” She nods and a look of understanding crosses her face, and I almost wonder if maybe she’s already spoken to Rohan. But he promised he wouldn’t say anything to her, so perhaps I’m just misreading it. “I think I might already know.”

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