I stare at him.
“That just about killed me,” he murmurs.
He yanks the comforter over his shoulders, and I’m so confused.
Wait, is this his way of saying he plans on staying over tonight?
I know better than to say anything—there’s too much going on inside me. I’m a mess. I snuggle into the covers. I don’t have the energy to get up and find something to wear, and so we just lie there in the dark together, limbs tangled, my bare skin hot against his. I don’t know which of us falls asleep first. And I don’t know who won that fight.
19LEWIS
Like clockwork, I wake up before dawn to a sliver of light peeking through the heavy curtain.
I roll onto my side, and it takes a few seconds for my brain to fire up. Lying there with her hands making a pillow under one cheek, Amy looks like an angel. An angel I really want to have sex with, I mean.
My eyes focus on her lips, and memories of last night come flashing back. The way she kissed me like that—hungrily, like she couldn’t get enough of me… The plan was to track her down and tell her to get her shit together, but somehow I’ve ended up butt naked in her bed.What the actual fuck?What am I looking for? I don’t know. And I have no idea where I might find myself, if I carry on thinking with my dick.
I watch her while she sleeps, searching for answers in the sweep of her nose, the curve of her cheek, trying to figure out what it is about her that made me crack last night. She’s a beautiful girl—I like the way she looks. But in terms of personality, she’s not my type. I like to keep things neat and tidy. Simple. I like things controlled, so nothing gets in my way. Basically, the total opposite of Amy. So how come every time I see her, I want her?
I shove the covers back and roll out of bed.
Whatever. It’s way too early for this much thinking.
It’s the last day of Christmas break, and my plan is to squeeze in a little practice with a teammate ahead of the NBA scout gold rush. It’s been stressing me out for months, and the closer the deadline looms, the more I start freaking out. I spoke to Don’s dad yesterday—he’ll be back on court tomorrow, and it doesn’t matter how much he builds me up; I can’t shake the feeling that I should be doing more. Don tried to build me up, too, but I’m not planning on slowing down. I do feel pretty chilled this morning, though.The Hitman effect.
I throw on my clothes and pull open the door, only to find… it’s locked.Huh?I look around for the key, but it’s nowhere to be seen.Shit.The last thing I want to do is wake up Firebird, so I cross my fingers and try a second door, turning the handle as quietly as I can until I get a satisfying click.Yeah, baby!
I cast one last look over my shoulder, and once I’m sure Amy’s still fast asleep, I poke my head through, listening out for voices, tiptoeing into the dimly lit hall and gently pulling the door shut behind me. I creep past a small bathroom and two more doors, one of them plastered with a kid’s drawings.Amy’s nephew?I’m guessing the other room belongs to the sister. I double-down on the tiptoeing, and when I reach the end of the hallway, I’m in a pitch-black room, the exit right there at the back.
Just when I slink past the rocker, two things happen at once. Blinding light floods my vision, and a shadow lunges at me, forcing me back. I curse under my breath, tripping over something in the process.
“Let’s play! Let’s play! Let’s play!”
I glance down.Great.Some kind of freaky-ass toy is squashed under my foot. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust, and then an extra second or two to get that there’s some pregnant chick standing in front of me, waving a huge baseball bat in my face.
“You better get the fuck outta my house before I break your balls, kid.”
She holds the bat high above her head, while the toy carries on shrieking at me.
What in the…
“Whoa, there, Harley Quinn!” I shield my face with my hands. “Take it easy!”
“Why are you whispering? You’re busted!” She glares at me. “And what the hell are you doing in my house?”
“I was with Amy!”
She narrows her eyes. “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter. My sister doesn’t bring guys home—ever.”
Sister? Fuck—are all the Hitman women total badasses?
“And you’re not her type, anyhow.” She stares at me, her eyes glittering with defiance.
“We’re study buddies. We had a late-night cram session and I fell asleep!” I protest, figuring it’s my one shot at getting myself out of this mess. “Go wake her; ask her yourself.”
She’s weighing it up, I can tell.
“Wanna put that thing down for me?” I nod at the baseball bat. “I’m on the basketball team. Being able to use my arms and legs is kinda a big deal.”
