by Stacy Gail
“Not like this. And don’t apologize.”
Good grief. “How else are we supposed to get to know each other?”
“The usual way.”
“The usual way?” She stared at him while her brows shot up so high it felt like they were trying to evacuate her face. “Does this mean you've had pretend girlfriends before? Is there a protocol for this, or—”
“No, smartass. I’m talking about getting to know each other the way everyone else does it. Dinner, going to the movies, hanging out. I’m not going to fill out your questionnaire, and I’m sure as shit not going to make one up for you. We learn about each other bit by bit, naturally, and we let it all take deep root. Otherwise it won’t stick.”
“Styx, do you have any idea how long it takes to really get to know someone? Sunday’s day after tomorrow. I’ve got to have your facts and figures down cold by then. Oh, speaking of cold, what’s your favorite ice cream flavor?”
“Jesus,” he muttered again, speeding up as he merged onto the freeway. “You know what I’m learning about you right now? You can be a pain in the ass.”
“Yeah, I’m good at it.” Nervously she looked over her shoulder as they sped along, half-fearing she’d see a dark Caddy zooming up behind him. “Why are we getting on the freeway? We can reach our neighborhood via surface streets.”
“And hit all those lights every twenty feet? No thanks.”
“Right, but…” Again she looked over she shoulder. “How fast can this car go?”
“Do you see anyone back there?”
She searched through the traffic. “No.”
“Then sit back and relax, babe. Anything shows up, I’m hitting the gas to get us to safety. If they have half a brain, they’ll know a heavy boat like a Cadillac doesn’t have a prayer in hell when it comes to catching a ‘Vette.”
“I didn’t think it would be this scary,” she said just above a whisper, forcing herself to face front. “Driving home, I mean. I didn’t think it would be so scary that my palms would sweat, or that I’d feel like I’m about to cry. How weird is that?”
“It’d be weird if you didn’t feel like that.” He held out his hand. “Give me that sweaty palm. I wanna hold it for a while.”
Something unbelievably sweet twisted in her chest, and she took a second to wipe her hand on her pantleg before sliding it into the cradle of his. “Hey, Styx?”
“I’m right here, Syd.”
“I know we just met, but I want to say something to you, and I don’t want you to be creeped out by it, okay?”
She watched his brows quirk. “Okay…I think.”
“You’re the kindest man I’ve ever met.” There. She said it.
He waited a beat before his fingers gave hers a quick squeeze. “Why would I be creeped out by that?”
“Because we haven’t known each other long enough to give each other big, heartfelt compliments, but I can’t help it. You truly are the kindest man I’ve ever met, and I consider myself lucky to have crossed your path.” Then she rolled her lips between her teeth and wondered where her self-control had wandered off to. “And that’s it for the compliments tonight, I swear.”
“Damn, really? Talk about disappointing.” He flashed her a quick grin. “Just in case you’re feeling awkward, I’ve got more than a few compliments to throw your way and I’m not shy about sharing them. Like how you’re so sweet, you didn’t run into your friend’s yoga studio when it was right there, out of fear that it might bring trouble to her doorstep.”
“But like you said, I could have just as easily brought trouble to your doorstep. My only saving grace is that your apartment building has thirty-plus stories and countless other tenants, so hopefully you won’t be targeted.”
“And you’re loyal,” he went on as if she hadn’t spoken, guiding the car off the freeway to flow onto Division Street. “You refused to miss a day of work because you didn’t want to leave your pal Wesley in the lurch. I’m just glad he reciprocated by giving you the weekend off. Shows he understands your value, which means at least on a professional level it’s okay for him to stand as close to you as he was when he turned you over to me.”
She started to laugh, only to realize he wasn’t laughing with her. “Uh, would you care to explain that?”
“I’m saying there’s only one thing you actually need to know about me, up to and including my favorite flavor of ice cream. I’ve never been good at sharing.”
“What, ice cream?” Sydney tried to joke, but even she could hear the breathlessness in her tone. “Can’t say I blame you on that one.”
“While we’re doing this whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing, there’s no other man in your life. Only me.”
Sydney’s heart began to thump against her sternum as he pulled up to the curb outside her building. “Not a problem. I told you, I don’t have a boyfriend, or even the prospect of one.”
“Hard to believe the men of Chicago are that fucking stupid, but whatever. Makes my job easier when it comes to you.” He cut the engine before turning in his seat to give her his complete attention. “Do you know what that job is?”
Why couldn’t she breathe when his eyes were on her? Why? “To make me a convincing… oh, what do you call it… beard? Isn’t that the term for a fake significant other?”
“Don’t give a shit what the term is, because that’s not what I’m talking about.” His eyes were darkening, and though they were sitting in their own seats, she could have sworn he somehow managed to get closer. “My job is to convince you that I’m not some boring exam material you need to cram into your brain like a good little student, only to forget about me the moment that exam is done.”
“I never said you were.” Ha. As if she could ever forget him.
“Know this, Syd. I’m not the kind of man who’ll put up with being forgotten,” he went on, and for a moment she could almost believe he’d read her thoughts. “That means there’s only one way you’re going to learn about me.”
He was definitely closer. “What way is that?”
“Up close and personal.” The hand that had held hers most of the way home reached out to curl around the nape of her neck. “Now would be the time to sound out if you’ve got any objections.”
“To be clear,” she said, panicking just a little as he began pulling her closer. “We’re about to kiss, correct? I mean, I know it’s not really kissing, and it’s just practice for, uh, later. I just need to know, is there any particular way that you pref—”
“Shut up,” he commanded before his mouth landed squarely on hers.
If she’d thought it was difficult breathing when his gaze was on her, it was nothing compared to his mouth.
He didn’t hesitate.
Didn’t doubt.
He just took ownership of the kiss.
And it was glorious.
Better still, he didn’t waste any time in bringing the fire. He seemed fascinated with the texture of her lips, first nuzzling them with his own before running his tongue along the seam. That worked like a charm to open her mouth to a deeper exploration, and he immediately took advantage. He thrust his tongue in deep, as if he couldn’t wait to sample her flavor, while the hand at her neck moved to cup the back of her head, pressing her deeper into the kiss.
Wow.
Dizzying excitement exploded in her head, shutting down higher brain function while simultaneously heating her blood. In less than a wildly fluttering heartbeat, her whole body radiated with a sweet fever she never wanted to end. Wetness surged between her legs, making her intimate folds ache to the point where it was all she could do not to moan. Without warning, the hunger to have him get between her legs, spread them wide and fill her depths all the way to his hilt was all she could think about.
Her pelvic muscles quivered, and she brought a hand up to his hair, her fingers sliding through the short, soft thickness. At first touch she became hopelessly addicted to the feel of it, and she knew from that moment on she wouldn’t rest until she h
ad her hands tangled in his hair again. And again.
And again.
Damn. If she wasn’t very careful, this man was going to change every aspect of her life, and that would be her downfall.
Because none of this was real.
Having his hair in her hands—or any other part of him—was nothing more than a dream, and she didn’t believe in those. Not anymore.
Problem was, he was such a fantastic kisser she could almost forget her boycott when it came to trying to make dreams come true.
When he finally broke contact, it took every ounce of effort she had to open eyes she couldn’t remember closing. Then she looked into his and wondered how she’d ever have the strength to look away from those pale depths filled with a hunger that, amazingly enough, seemed focused solely on her.
“You want to know my preference when it comes to kissing?” Styx’s voice was a deep, intimate rumble, and that sexy sound made the ache between her legs that much worse. “I’m not complicated, Syd. Right now, the only preference I have when it comes to kissing is making damn sure I’m kissing you. Short. Long. Deep. Sweet. I’m a fan of it all, as long as you’re the one who’s kissing me back.”
Her heart jumped up into her throat as his admission moved her even more deeply than his kiss. She was still struggling to find an adequate response when a sharp knock on the driver’s side window shattered the illusion that they were the only two people on the planet.
“You’re parked in a red zone, asshole.” Trey appeared on the other side of the glass, a big, neener-neener grin on his face as he looked in on them. “You can neck with your girlfriend after you get her safely inside. Just park somewhere else before you go in.”
“I thought I saw you shadowing us back on the freeway.” Styx rolled down the window, clearly unsurprised by his twin’s sudden appearance. “And shit, pulling up right behind us with lights flashing? Could you call any more attention to yourself?”
Startled, Syd looked back over her shoulder. Sure enough, there was Trey’s police cruiser, lights flashing and sitting directly behind them. Considering what he’d just said about necking, it was clear he’d had a front row seat to witness their kiss.
Oh. Wait.
A show for his family.
Of course.
She should have known.
“Calling attention to a show of force around Syd is exactly what I want to do. If anyone’s keeping tabs on her, I want them to see we’re not going to allow a repeat performance of what happened to her yesterday. Speaking of which,” he added, turning his gaze her way. “You’re a fucking genius driver, Syd. Seriously, respect.”
She blinked, confused. “I’m sorry?”
“I’ve seen the transit cam video of your car chase. Hell, everyone at the precinct has seen it, and we all came to the same conclusion—anyone else would have lost control over the impact you took and rolled their car like fucking dice at a craps table. Then about half a heartbeat later, you did a needle-threading job of a lifetime by getting off the freeway without hitting anyone or killing yourself on the off-ramp divider, and got yourself to safety while driving a broken car. In my book, that makes you the best driver I’ve ever known.”
Wow. “I don’t ever want to see that video. Living through it was bad enough.”
“I want to see it,” Styx said, and she shivered at the stone-cold edge in his voice. “You got it?”
“Yeah.” Without fanfare, Trey produced his phone, tapped it a few times and handed it over. “Knew you’d want to see it. There’s no sound, of course. But it’s all pieced together as the chase goes from camera to camera. Honestly, it’s a fucking miracle she’s sitting there right next to you. She shouldn’t be here, swear to Christ.”
“Shut up, T.” Styx frowned down at the phone for what seemed like forever. His expression got darker and darker until she could hardly bear to watch him. “Fuck me. Fuck me.”
“I know.” Trey wore the same expression, and it had nothing to do with their twinness. “In my book, what that bastard did to Syd was attempted murder, not to mention un-fucking-forgivable.”
“Your book’s got it right. I’m sending this to myself,” he added, letting his thumbs move over his brother’s phone. “And don’t bust my chops about it being police evidence, or whatever. I want to know who this piece of shit is.”
“We’re working on it. Even Dad’s getting off his retired ass to bug his old cronies about it. He wants answers, and so do we.”
“What about getting anything off the video itself?”
Trey grimaced. “You saw it yourself, man. We have the make and model of the Caddy, but Syd was right—there was no license plate on the front. We do have a couple images of the rear of the car, but those images are coming from cameras set up on the other side of the freeway, so I doubt we’ll actually get anything useful.”
“Nothing happened today,” Sydney said, hating the desperation in her voice, but she couldn’t help it. Now more than ever, she realized just how close she’d come to death. “I was perfectly fine, all day long. Styx even went out of his way to take me home via I-90 to help me get back up on the proverbial horse—and yes, I know that’s why you took me home using that route, because you’re awesome like that,” she added, catching Styx’s swift glance her way. “Nothing happened to us, so maybe it really was just a random case of road rage. Maybe it’ll never happen again.”
“If it was a case of road rage, they took their sweet time getting worked up about you,” Trey said, shaking his head. “As far as we can tell, they began tailing you right after you left the grocery store, just like you suspected. There are no transit cameras for surface streets, but we did get surveillance tapes from the bank in front of South Loop’s Market Place. We found the timestamp where you’re sitting at a stop light, and guess what? That Caddy is literally sitting right behind you.”
“Let me guess,” Styx muttered while Syd shivered at Trey’s description. “Tinted windows?”
“Just enough to obscure facial ID, but not enough to hide there were two occupants in that car. It’s looking more and more like you were right, Syd,” Trey added, again looking back to her. “We’re leaning more toward the theory that you were specifically targeted by some kind of organized group. In my humble opinion, you got yourself one hell of an enemy, and they’re not fucking around when it comes to ending you.”
“Enough.” The word snapped out of Styx, and he opened his car door with enough force that it pushed his brother back. “Don’t you ever talk about that kind of shit to Sydney, you hear me? You’re upsetting her, dumbass, and that’s something I will not fucking tolerate.”
“Hey, man, I’m just doing my damn job,” Trey snarled back, and Sydney was shocked at how quickly Trey’s tone went from calm and reasonable to borderline homicidal. Hastily she scrambled out of the car in case the brothers came to blows. She had zero clue what she’d do if that actually happened, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to just sit on her booty like a helpless damsel. “The vic’s gotta know what’s bearing down on her so she can keep her head on a swivel. Don’t shoot the messenger, asshole.”
“The vic? That’s Sydney we’re talking about, not the vic. And there’s warning her, and there’s scaring the piss out of her,” Styx raged on before his brother could answer. “You were fine up until you shared your goddamned opinion, and then you went so far off the map it’s taking everything I’ve got not to smash your ugly face in.”
Trey stepped up. “I’d like to see you try, shit stain.”
“Not a problem, assclown.” With a scary smile, Styx matched his brother.
“Nope, nope, nope, nope.” Before she consciously thought of moving, Sydney stepped between the brothers, wrapping her arms around Styx like her life depended on it. “You’re wonderful for trying to defend me, Styx, and I absolutely love your protectiveness, but I can’t let you take your stress out on your brother. This isn’t his fault.”
“See? Not my fault. Syd said so.” Sydney glan
ced over her shoulder at Trey in time to see his scowl vanish like it had never been. “And hey, wow. She loves you? I didn’t know you guys were that far along. Damn, no wonder you’re going so apeshit.”
Sydney gasped, mortified. “What? No, wait—”
“I get it, brother, I really do.” Suddenly all smiles, Trey backed up a step, hands up. “Love makes people crazy, yeah? I’d heard that all my life, but I didn’t get it until it hit me with Maeve. Then bam—suddenly I didn’t give a shit about anything in the world except her. I can’t imagine how I’d be if anyone came at her like they came after Syd, so no hard feelings, yeah? We’re good?”
Styx seemed to have trouble getting the muscles in his neck to unlock so he could nod once. “We’re good. See you and Maeve on Sunday.”
“He heard that all wrong.” The words tumbled out of Sydney even as Trey got back into his cruiser and headed into the flow of traffic. “I didn’t say I love you. I said I loved your protectiveness, which is a huge difference. So, uh, our situation isn’t getting weird, or anything, I swear. I don’t love you.”
Styx stared for so long after Trey that she began to doubt he’d heard her. Then, with a shake of his head, he took her by the arm and turned her toward her building. “Come on, Syd. Let’s get you inside where it’s safe. I’ve got some thinking to do.”
Chapter Seven
“Slowly let your breath out, releasing the last of your built-up tension, and allow peace to take its place. Three, two, one… and we’re done. Namaste.” Beaming out at her class, Zemi rose to her feet, clapping along with her students. As the hubbub of people gathering their things filled the studio, Sydney sat on her mat and hoped she could just stay there, unnoticed, for the rest of her life.
“Sydney?”
So much for that hope.
“Hey.” Zemi wandered over, smiling her farewells to the people she passed. “You okay? Got a cramp? You need to hydrate.”
“What I need is a life colonic. You wouldn’t happen to have one of those, would you?”
“That’s what my Saturday morning yoga classes are all about. They’re killers when it comes to eliminating the week’s build-up of stress. Though I’ll admit,” her friend added dryly, coming to curl up on the edge of Sydney’s mat, “the only thing that could help me de-stress at the moment is hearing from my idiotic share-space partner. She’s been gone almost two months now, and I’m getting poorer and poorer paying the full rent on this place. I’ve put out feelers to see if there are other yoga instructors out there looking for a home, but so far I haven’t gotten any nibbles.”
