My irritation with him creeps up a notch as he stares at me, completely nonplussed. It's probably why sarcasm comes flying out of my mouth, instead of the plea for help I came to deliver.
"Hello to you too, lover," I say, my breathy tone stealing the punch from the words.
If he notices, he doesn't comment on it. Instead, his eyes do a sweep from my head to my toes, drinking me in greedily. I can see it in his eyes, that familiar spark of desire. It had always been electric between us. From the first time we'd touched, there had been no thought. Only pure, primal want that neither of us resisted, no matter how hard we tried.
"Brooklyn," he says, wonder in his tone. Then his brow creases, that perfect mouth turning down in a frown. "What are you doing here, Brooklyn? This isn't safe."
What he meant to say remain unspoken, but I can hear them anyway. It's not safe for either of us. If Cruz discovers...
"I know. But I had to see you. It's important."
His face slides into a careful mask of neutrality, and I think I know why. The last time I asked for his help, things had ended in a gunfight and both our fathers had been injured. No one knew who fired the first shot, one of the Spade men, or one of ours. But no matter who'd done it, Kase's father died that night.
"It's been over between us for years, Brooklyn. You can't just barge in here and act like nothing's happened."
That's rich. He's the one who kissed me, not the other way around. I lift one eyebrow and slide my hand down the front of his body, squeezing the bulge that presses urgently against the front of his pants. Kase's eyes flutter closed for a second and a half-moan escapes him.
"Oh really? Because this certainly feels like old times, doesn't it?"
When his eyes fly open again, I think I see something of the old Kase in their depths. But it's gone as soon as it came, leaving him colder still. He knocks my hand away, pinning it to the wall in a grip that's hard enough to bruise. I wish it didn't turn me on so much.
"No, Brook. We're not doing this."
He's right. It's probably a bad idea. Eventually, someone will notice he's gone. If they come looking for him and find us together...well I don't want to discover what happens then.
"I'm serious. I need to talk to you. It's important. Promise that you'll meet me. There's a chop shop that rides the line between the Kings and the Spades. Meet me there."
"Brook-"
"Promise."
Something on my face must show just how desperate I am because he finally nods. "Fine. But not until tomorrow. I've got to go with Penny to buy a bunch of baby stuff for Cruz's wife. I bail on her and she'll skin me alive."
My lips twitch up into an unwilling grin. I met Penny only once, but I liked her. She reminded me a bit of my mom, from what little I remember of her. Dad called her his little spitfire. Said I was a lot like that too. And Kase Cruz with a box full of diapers and baby toys is so comical I can barely restrain a laugh.
"Tomorrow afternoon, then," I concede. "But please come. It's really important."
There's a touch of skepticism in the lines around his eyes. He's not quite sure he believes me. But he'll come. I have to believe that. If he's got even an ounce of affection left for me, he'll hear me out.
"How do I know this isn't an ambush?"
The accusation feels like a slap to the face. How could he even think that?
"You really think I'd do that to you?"
"It's been years, Brooklyn. I don't know what to think anymore."
The silence stretches taut between us until I can't take it a second longer. "I'll go then."
He catches my wrist before I can make a break for it, pulling me back into his chest. His breath ruffles the nape of my neck, and all the hairs on my body stand at attention. I hate how much I want him. Why can't I just grow the fuck up and get over him already?
"I'll walk you out."
He slides his hand into mine and squeezes tight. I'm drawn back into days when things were simpler. When we believed in star-crossed bullshit and that love could overcome circumstance. What fools we'd been.
Oh hell, who am I kidding? We are still fools. Still acting on our worst impulses, no matter who it hurts. And the sad thing is I don't care. I'll take whatever comes, so long as he's by my side.
"And you're a fucking idiot," I mutter to myself.
