“Are you serious?”
I shrugged as I walked over to a locked side tablenear the French doors leading to the balcony. “Oh, you’re one to talk, Mr.Judgmental. Didn’t you go home with Crystal what’s her name last Friday?Obviously you were exercising your incredibly picky decision-making skills.”
“You’re awfully mouthy tonight, Caro.”
He’d moved to stand next to me. I could smell himagain, feel the frustration rolling off him. And it took everything in me tokeep from gloating. It was nice to get under his skin. He was alwaysunder mineand in my head and pushing into my decisions andplans and better reasoning. He was always there, constant in everything Ithought or did or wanted. And I was tired of it.
Tired of him.
I squatted down and did a little magic with the lockeddrawer using a hairpin and an Allen wrench. It popped open, and I smiled at it.I hated this too. This life. This specific skillset I didn’t ask for. Yet, Iwould take this every day over Sayer. I understood this job, these things. Icould see the problem and figure out how to solve it.
Sayer was something else entirely. I didn’t know howto pick him open. I didn’t know how to con him into playing my game. I didn’tknow how to take what I wanted from him and leave the rest.
Because it seemed like he just kept taking from me. OrI kept giving to him. Either way, I wasn’t getting anything in return, and Ihated it.
“I’m always mouthy.” I popped back up to check out thecontents of the drawer and found Sayer even closer than before. I turned tolook at him. “But the point remains. My standards are my choice. As are yours.”
Those blue eyes that were my absolute downfall foundmine and held on tight. “I didn’t go home with CrystalKanstanovalast Friday, Six. Nor have I ever gone home with her. Think what you want ofme, but I do have high standards. And she doesn’t come close to meeting them.”
I sucked in my bottom lip and nibbled on it, ignoringthe way the two internal fists that had been squeezing my heart relaxed. Butthe game between us was still going. I couldn’t let him see how much his wordsaffected me or how desperately I wanted to be the reason he hadn’t takenCrystal home. She’d been all over him last Friday at the club where thebratvaspent mostof their time. And she dressed like a total slut. I wasn’t saying that to bemean. It was just a fact. She was all nip slips and whale tail. It was like herthing, her signature. “I suppose you want me to acknowledge what an upstandinghuman you are now?”
Sayer’s eyes darkened. “I want you to acknowledgewhat’s between us, Caroline. Fucking admit you have a thing for me. I’m tiredof chasing you.”
I slammed my finger in the drawer. Hissing a curse, Ispun to face him. “Is that what you think you’ve been doing? Chasing me?”
One side of his mouth kicked up. “Since I was twelveyears old in an alley I didn’t belong in with three dollars to my name.”
“Sayer,” I whispered, his name like a plea and aprayer, like a desperate demand for more.
“Are you really this blind? You think this was Roman’sidea?” He motioned back and forth between us. “That he wanted a team of kids?Six, I’ve been fighting to be with you since the day you saved my life. Mystandards are fucking high. I only want the girl that’s totally out of reach,that’s so much better than me it’s embarrassing. I only want the one girl Ishould let go.” He stepped closer to me. “So she can move to the Midwest andhave her corn and cows and normal life.”
I shook my head. “I-I’m not better than you.”
His chin jerked once. “You are. So much better. Somuch better than anything on this goddamn earth.” He dipped his head so that hisforehead rested against mine and he lifted both hands to cup my face. It wasthe closest we had ever been. Butterflies took flight in my stomach and myappendages started to tingle. I had to close my eyes against the sensation,against the heady bliss of Sayer’s words and his touch and his body so very hotagainst mine. “And I know you can do better than me and this life and that youprobably should get whatever it is you want so badly, but Caro, I’m going toask you to stay here. Stay with me. Be with me.”
Sayer was three years older than me, eighteen to mymeager fifteen. It wasn’t that much of a difference, but it had always feltlike the difference between being a grown-up and a little kid. Sayer was thisbig man in the syndicate. He was older than his age, so much tougher andsmarter and wiser than he appeared. And I was just this little girl playing ata chance to be around him. I didn’t want the syndicate life, but I hadn’t had achoice. I didn’t want to be good at stealing and lying and cheating, but Ididn’t have a choice. Sayer had every choice in the world and yet he chose thislife.
He could have done anything with his life and hepicked the syndicate.
That was how I felt now too. I had never had a choicein loving Sayer. I just had. Always. Since the day I met him, he had been itfor me. I couldn’t even get myself to pay attention to other guys. It wasalways Sayer for me.
But he had all the choices in the world. He could haveanyone. Be with anyone. And yet, he wanted me.
He wanted me.
“Like as your girlfriend?” I asked because I wasfifteen and that was the only thing I could wrap my head around. A distant,more mature part of my brain told me he wasn’t just asking for me to be hisgirlfriend, that his perspective was bigger than mine, more permanent. But Ihad never had a boyfriend before, let alone had a boy who said things likethatto me. This was new and unchartedterritory. Besides, like I said, Sayer was the only one I wanted, the only oneI cared about. I didn’t stand a chance.
Sayer’s chuckle cascaded over my skin, warming me andpulling goosebumps up at the same time, making my heart race and my blood rushin my veins. “Yeah, Six. You want to be my girlfriend?”
I nodded, giggling a flirty sound I had never madebefore. “Y-yes. Yes, please.”
He caught my words with his lips pressed against mine.I gasped at the sensation, those too-soft lips a heady contrast with thehardness of his body, the rough feel of his hands, the grit of his personality.His mouth moved against mine slowly, carefully.
Sayer might have been my first boyfriend, but hewasn’t my only kiss—I had managed to get a few of those in since the first timehe kissed me when I was ten. For practice’s sake. Boys from school under thebleachers or behind the track mats in the gym. I had no idea what I was doingwith someone like Sayer, but I at least wasn’t a total amateur when it came tokissing.
Or at least that’s what I thought.
But kissing Sayer wasn’t just kissing a boy—it waskissing a man. He was all of my dreams and fantasies and desires packaged intoone perfectly gorgeous, perfectly dangerous man of my dreams, and I could havespent the entire night just learning the contours of his lips and how they fitagainst mine.
