Page 128 of A Dangerous Kind of Love

“What the fuck, Michael?”

“You missed a note,” I tell her.

Her mouth drops open. “Excuse me?”

“Second verse,” I add, shrugging. “it was flat.”

She comes right over and punches me in the arm, her breasts bouncing with the impact. I rub it, acting offended.

“I don’t remember inviting you in here,” she says, crossing her arms.

I laugh.

“Alright,” I say, already turning. “I’ll leave.”

I start toward the glass door, hand lifting toward it, and she grabs my waist. I stop immediately. My head tilts slightly, glancing down at where her hand is pressed against me.

“That’s what I thought.”

“You’re such an ass.”

I pull her against me. “And, yet, you’re still right here.”

“Yeah,” she says. “Because apparently I make terrible choices.”

“Looks like it.”

“I’m not having sex with you right now, so get that out of your head.”

“Didn’t think you were.”

She narrows her eyes. “You’re annoying.”

“You’re short.”

“I swear to God—I’m 5‘6. I’m not short.”

“You are from up here.”

“You’re just too damn tall. Like freakishly so.”

“So I’m the problem.”

“You are always the problem,” she says. “You’re also hot, which is inconvenient for me.”

“Sounds tough.”

“It is,” she says, stepping closer anyway.

“That’s the spirit.”

She slides her hand down and squeezes my ass.

My hand locks on her waist. “You don’t get to do that without repercussions.”

“I can do whatever I want,” she says.

“Sure. Go with that.”