Her entire demeanor changes faster than I can blink. “I don’t think so.” She plants her hands on her hips, leveling me with a dark stare. “The last people I will tell are my parents, so you’ve nothing to worry about.”
I study her as her blue eyes battle with me. Desperation shimmers in her gaze, sucker punching me. I feel her anguish for a very different reason. Hers is to get high. Mine is to make money. It’s a win-win for both of us.But how can I trust her?
Suddenly, a list of questions bombard me.Why does the thought of losing her supplier terrify her so much?
What or who is driving this girl to drugs?
How badly is she addicted?
Does she just use it recreationally, or is it more serious than that?
A smart, beautiful girl from a good family shouldn’t need drugs. But I’ve been around this culture long enough to know people from all walks of life come to rely on narcotics, for a whole heap of reasons.
Still, she seems together, and I can tell from her eyes that she isn’t high right now, which should calm me down, but I’ve known addicts who appeared to be fully functioning members of society, and no one knew what was going on, before they spiraled. I’ve also known addicts who lie, cheat, steal, and manipulate to get cash for the next hit.
I don’t want to believe that of Emily, but I don’t know her well enough to form an educated opinion.
Now, I’m as worried about her as I am about my own little secret.
Phoebe, man. Money, bills, Mom, medical expenses.
That’s my priority. Not some girl I don’t know and can’t know. I need to steer clear of Emily, because getting any more involved with her is risky on so many different levels.
“I don’t sell on campus for a reason.”
“Like I don’t buy on campus for a reason.”
“You’re better off finding someone else. It’s less risky,” I continue arguing.
She steps in closer to me. “Think about it.” She runs the tip of her finger down my chest, batting her eyelashes at me, and I know what she’s doing. I step back, disappointed in her. She shrugs, smiling coyly at me, not willing to let this go. “This is the perfect arrangement for us. We both have a legit reason to keep our secrets. I trust you not to tell and you can trust me to do the same.”
Her logic is sound, but it leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Yet, if I don’t sell to her, she’ll find someone else who will. It would make life easier if I had a few trustworthy clients on campus I can get rid of my gear to. And she knows what I do already. There’s nothing to stop her from telling her father, unless she continues to buy from me, and then she has as much to lose as I have.
I hate this fucked-up scenario, but there isn’t much I can do about it now. “You’re right. We both have reasons to keep this quiet.” I harden my jaw. “But if you double-cross me, my sister is the one who will pay the ultimate price.” I play on her emotions, because her reaction to Phoebe’s illness was genuine, and it might be the only thing to keep her lips permanently sealed.
She opens her mouth, to pry, no doubt, when a rustling sound claims our attention. Emily tenses, shuffling closer to me. I look around, but I don’t see anyone. “You worried about Wes? He’s a dickwad, and you should stay away from him.”
“Believe me, I’m trying.” Her gaze darts up and down the street. “He’s a family friend. Well, a friend of my parents’.” She visibly shivers.
I take that opening to untie the sweater around her waist. I suspect she’s not cold, but every fiber in me wants to touch her even as my head is screaming at me to step away. I drape the soft fabric around her shoulders, and she arches a brow, regarding me curiously. “Why are you being nice to me?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I scrub a hand along my jaw. She shrugs, not offering me anything else. “What was that about with Wes back there?” I add, not letting her deflect. I’ve given her plenty to ponder, and she’s told me next to nothing. “Is he hassling you? I mean, it sure seemed like it tonight.”
“He wants me to date him although I’ve no idea why if he’s with the beautiful blonde.” I can’t tell if she’s hurt by that or it genuinely doesn’t bother her.
I gingerly grip her chin, guiding her to look up at me. Big blue eyes meet mine, and I’m drowning. “You’re a million times more beautiful than that blonde.”
She blinks long lashes as she stares deep into my eyes. An electrical charge crackles in the space between us, and her lips curl into a soft, sweet, pure smile that does strange things to me. Her hands slide slowly, hesitantly, up my chest, and she bites down on her lip, making me groan. “Are you hitting on me?” she whispers, her gaze settling on my mouth.
“Maybe,” I admit, because I’ve no idea what the fuck I’m doing.
Her hands curl around the nape of my neck, and her tits press against my chest, radiating warmth in everyplace we’re connected. My body demands I claim her, and I slide my arms around her waist, holding her even closer.
Her eyes continue to draw me in until it feels like I’ve lost all self-control. My dick throbs, urging me to take what she’s offering, while the voice in my head says I shouldn’t kiss her, shouldn’t get in any deeper, but my head is lowering on autopilot until our lips are almost touching.
Fuck. My heart is racing as my stomach flips like an out of control gymnast the moment my lips brush against hers.
She jerks back, as if electrocuted, snapping both of us out of whatever the hell that just was. “I need to go.” She wraps her arms around herself, avoiding eye contact. “We have a deal, right.”
