You've Got Fail(33)

“Then I’ll do what I have to, just as long as he leaves you alone.” He stepped closer and cupped my face. “Don’t worry.”

“Please don’t.” I pressed my back against the door. “I’m begging you.”

A furrow formed between his eyebrows. “You don’t beg.”

“I know.” I put a trembling hand on his chest. “That’s how real this is.”

He covered my hand with his, the steady beat of his heart thumping against my palm.

I wanted it to keep beating. “Let’s sit down and just chill out for a minute.” I gestured toward the cramped living room.

He eyed the door. Grabbing his chin, I pulled his face down to me. “Please?”

“Tell me what crackerjack means.”

“What?”

“Tell me what crackerjack means and I’ll let him go…for now.”

Done. “It means dibs. I called dibs on the prize at the bottom of the crackerjack.”

“I’m the prize?” He smirked.

“Yes, you’re a temporary tattoo of a fat dragon. Well done.”

He snorted. “Way to knock me back down to earth.”

I pointed to the closest chair. “Have a seat. I’ll pour us a drink.” My mask had slipped, and I needed a minute to get it back in place. There was no way that Willis could understand just how dangerous Pauly was.

“Since you put the kibosh on my heroic rescue, I might as well.” He sank into the chair, then shifted and grimaced. “I really love how adventurous wicker is. Always trying to poke me in the ass.”

I laughed, high and verging on hysterical. “Try the futon. It squeaks, but doesn’t have any broken pieces.” Walking the few steps to the kitchen, I pulled two glasses from the narrow shelf next to the fridge. “Hannah, you can come out,” I called.

“I’m good in here,” her voice wafted down the hall. “Jeopardy’s on. Lots of math questions.”

I didn’t believe it for a second, but I wouldn’t push her. Willis’s gaze never left me as I poured two whiskeys and returned to him in the living room.

“Thanks.” He took the glass from me and sipped. “It’s still a.m. Looks like we’re turning into Linda.”

“There are worse things.” I shot a glance at the door.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

I settled back into the futon. He took a bigger swig and moved to sit next to me, his scent reminding me of his bed, the night we’d spent together, and the fun we’d gotten up to this morning. How could that have happened only a couple of hours before? It felt like days had passed. Or maybe Pauly’s threats had aged me a few years.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

He gave me an incredulous look and drained his glass. “Stop bullshitting me. You’re in big trouble with that asshole. Something to do with money you owe. How much and why?”

I weighed my options. Telling the truth wasn’t one of them. Implicating my sister in a criminal enterprise wasn’t high on my list of to-dos for the day. “I have it all under control. It’ll be handled in a couple of weeks.” I took a swig and swallowed, setting fire to my throat. But I needed the burn. Needed it to remind me that my sister and I stood on our own. No matter how much Willis wanted to help me, I didn’t need it. More than that, I didn’t want to tarnish him with my life. I could pretend all day, every day, that I was someone else. Glamorous, smart, witty—all of the above. But that wasn’t me, and it never could be. Willis was too good for me. That’s why I had to lie to him. Because when he learned the truth—that I was nothing more than a con—he wouldn’t look at me the same. They never did.

“How do you have it under control?” He motioned toward the door with his glass. “That didn’t look like control.”

“Remember when I told you that you’re out of your depth? Now you’re drowning.”

“Didn’t I tell you about my degrees? Your metaphors are no good here.” He leaned closer and put a hand to my cheek. “Just tell me.”

I wanted to melt into him, to spill everything. His eyes, the crooked glasses, the cute-as-hell t-shirt, and the man beneath it—all of it was like some sort of truth serum. But the truth wasn’t my friend. In fact, I was allergic.

“I think I’ve given you the wrong impression.” I pulled away from his touch. “I don’t need your help. I’ve done just fine without you.” Steeling myself, I replaced my mask. “And I think it’s long past time for you to leave.” I rose, walked to the door, and started flipping the locks free.

He followed. “Are you always this stubborn?”

“Name calling will get you—”

He whipped me around, a startled cry caught in my throat as his lips met mine. This wasn’t a tentative kiss. No. This was utter domination. He ran one hand into my hair and gripped, craning my neck back. I opened my mouth, and his tongue seared a path inside. I pressed my palms against his hard chest, and he wrapped an arm around my waist and lifted until my toes tickled the floor. He tilted my head, giving himself free rein over me as heat flushed my skin and wetness pooled between my thighs.

I moaned into his mouth. He swallowed the sound and continued to plunder me with his expert tongue. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my breasts against him. My nipples hardened almost painfully, and each bit of pressure on them sent sparks through my veins, straight to my clit. His breath became mine as he refused to let up.