A dangerous line.
I shoot him a warning look that he completely ignores. Of course he does. Jesse sees what he wants and takes it, consequences be damned. And right now, what he wants is standing five feet away in jeans that should be illegal and a tank top that’s driving me to distraction.
“So you are contagious, Jesse?” Callie asks, but there’s color in her cheeks now. A pink flush that makes me wonder what she’d look like properly worked up, breathing hard, skin flushed everywhere?—
Stop. Fucking stop.
Jesse shrugs, and I watch him look her up and downwith absolutely no shame. His gaze lingers on her legs, travels up slowly, appreciating every curve. My fists clench. “Pretty girl, you’re trouble. The kind of trouble a smart man would stay away from.”
“Then it’s a good thing you’re smart,” she fires back, but her voice is breathier than before. She feels it too, this pull between all of us.
Jesse laughs, a sound that’s part amusement and part dark promise. “You got me there.”
Behind us, Boone snickers, enjoying the show. He’s always liked watching Jesse get shot down by women, and he’s definitely enjoying watching Jesse’s attempt at charm backfire on a Thompson.
Except it’s not backfiring. Not entirely.
Because despite her sharp words and defensive posture, Callie’s still standing here. Still talking to us. Still letting Jesse look at her like she’s something he wants to have for dinner. And worse, she’s looking back. Her gaze flicks between Jesse and me, and when our eyes meet, something electric passes between us. Her breath catches, and I have to lock my knees to keep from closing the distance between us.
“I should go,” she says, but she doesn’t move. Her body betrays her, leaning slightly toward us like a flower toward the sun.
“Should,” Jesse agrees, stepping closer. Close enough that I can see her pulse racing in her throat. “But do you want to?”
The question hangs in the air, and I watch her throat work as she swallows. Watch her tongue dart out to wether lips. Watch her chest rise and fall faster. The air feels thick, charged, like the moment before lightning strikes.
She doesn’t want to go.
And God help me, I don’t want her to go either. Want her to stay. Want to find out if her skin is as soft as it looks. Want to know what sounds she makes when?—
That’s a problem. A big, hot, consuming problem.
“Yeah,” she says finally, but the word lacks conviction. Her eyes betray her, darting to my mouth before quickly looking away.
“Liar,” Jesse says softly, and the intimacy in his voice makes me want to punch him.
“Jesse.” My voice comes out as a growl, rough with want and warning. Both of them look at me, and Callie’s eyes widen slightly at whatever she sees in my expression.
“What?” Jesse asks, all fake innocence. “I’m making conversation with our neighbor.”
“You’re making trouble.” And making me imagine things I shouldn’t. Like what Callie would look like spread out on my bed. Like how she’d sound saying my name.
“I thought she was trouble.”
She is. She’s the kind of trouble that’s going to keep me awake at night, hard and aching, imagining all the things I can’t have.
Callie looks between us, and I catch the way her gaze lingers on my arms and my chest, before snapping back to my face. “I’m standing right here, you know. If you want to talk about me, at least have the courtesy to do it when I’m not listening.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Jesse asks, and his fingersbrush her arm as he speaks. Just a ghost of a touch, but she shivers, and I see goose bumps rise on her skin.
“Fun?” Her voice cracks slightly. “Is that what this is? Fun for you?”
“Starting to be.” Jesse’s looking at her like he’s memorizing every detail, and I’m doing the same damn thing. The way her hair falls when she tilts her head. The freckle just above her collar bone. The way her jeans sit low on her hips, revealing just a hint of skin when she moves.
The admission hangs between them, electric and charged with promise. My chest is so tight, I can barely breathe. This is exactly what I was afraid of—not just Jesse wanting her, but me wanting her too. Wanting her with an intensity that scares the hell out of me.
“We should get back,” I say, my voice flat, trying to hide how affected I am. “Dad’s expecting us.”
It’s a lie, but it’s the only thing I can think of to end this before I do something stupid like grab Callie Thompson and kiss her until neither of us can think straight.
