“Do not,” he said in a low voice that made a shiver run through me, “joke about dying.”
“But it was just a joke. Kind of.”
“Not funny.”
“Johnny… I’m sorry, okay? I need to go.”
He released me again as I tugged away. I hurried my ass over to Shayla’s house before she could poke a head outside or something. I had no idea if our voices would carry, if she’d hear us through some open window, and I was flipping out.
“What about your clothes?” Johnny’s projected whisper behind me made me spin and shush him.
“Keep them!” I whispered back. “Burn them! I don’t care.”
“Or you could just pick them up tomorrow,” he said dryly.
“Shh!” I crept up Shayla’s back deck, heart drumming. I was already forming the excuse in my mind: I’d gone for a late night swim to clear my head. Alone. For all she knew, I was wearing a bikini under this towel, right?
I glanced back to find Johnny standing on his poolside deck, watching me. Naked in the night, like the apparition of some god caught between worlds. Because how the hell did a being that fine belong in this one?
I’d never met a man who could command such a sexual response from me, even at such a distance. I couldn’t even see his eyes, but I could feel them on me. It was as unnerving as it was intoxicating, when I paused to think about it.
I watched him towel himself off at a leisurely pace, and the ferocity of my irritation with him nearly equalled my lust for him.
“Go!” I hissed quietly. “Get your hot ass in the house!”
“Yes, ma’am.” His voice was soft in the night as the shadows of his eyes burned into mine across the distance.
I swallowed, and watched him walk his hot, naked ass up the stairs to the upper patio. He picked up my clothes along the way and when he caught me watching him, he tossed me a heated smile that set fire to my insides.
“Damn it, Shayla,” I muttered under my breath. “It’s your fault for having such a stupid, sexy brother.” Then I headed into her house, marinating in guilt and lust.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
Johnny
“Iwant you so bad right now,” Angeline purred next to me, “I can’t see straight.”
I glanced at her as I drove, and nowIcouldn’t see straight. Not when she was sitting so close to me, exuding rainbows and lust.
God, she was pretty when she was aroused.
I refocused on the road.
I was really trying to use some restraint here. Take the time, learn where Angeline’s boundaries were. Learn what she liked, what she wanted, what made her purr.
I was also trying to show her I wasn’t just using her for sex. I didn’t want her to see me like Summer so clearly did.
I was trying to make sure I gave much more than I took.
So, this morning, I’d taken her over to Yash’s place. We’d had a video call with my lawyer that I’d let her listen in on. Currently, we were waiting on the lawyers to finish doing their thing. Back and forth discussion. Paperwork. Since JC was, apparently, still spewing bullshit about taking Breakneck—the name, the songs, everything—our side, mine and Noah’s, was doing what could be done to explain to his side that that was never fucking happening.
I wasn’t worried about it. JC was losing his mind if he thought that shit would fly.
I’d formed Breakneck myself. Came up with the name, co-wrote all the songs. Was arguably the most famous member of the band; not a small feat for anyone other than a lead singer to pull off. I knew I had rights, and a legal team to back them.
Yash was similarly confident about our position.
So, I was just trying to be patient and trust our team to do their part, so I could get on with my fucking life.
