Chapter 12 Kitty #2
“No. I guess…” What the hell had I been thinking, coming and talking to him? “Um… I like him. But… don’t worry. I’m not thinking about doing an Anna Nicole Smith. You know? He’s cool.”
The scowl faded some, replaced by bewilderment as he scraped a hand through hair that seemed damp. From a shower, maybe? Mmmm, wet. “He talks to you?”
“Yeah. He told me to shut up one day and now he won’t—” Tell me to be quiet. Please, God. SOMEONE GLUE MY LIPS TOGETHER. Where was Currau when I needed him? “—and so we share his chocolate pudding and—”
“Is that a euphemism?”
“No! God, no! I… We’re friends.”
Stan rocked back in his seat, his arms spreading wide in a boss move that was somehow hotter than his earlier stance.
I should not be thinking about perching on his knee.
No.
Do.
Not.
Think.
That.
Kitty.
Fucking anti-nausea meds!
They were totally to blame.
Especially as I still really wanted to sit on his knee.
“So, you’re friends with my great-uncle, but only friends and not attempting to be his last-rites wife, actually got him to talk, and now you think he knows about us being here simultaneously. Enough that you also think I upgraded your flight? Does that sum it up?”
“Yes,” I whined.
God, where was my cool?
I could tell you where—no-damn-where.
Because the heat this man emitted necessitated a portable air-conditioning unit blowing up my skirt.
Was it the Dramamine? It had to be. I’d never experienced this particular side effect before but—
“Interesting.” His gaze flickered away. Exactly what I didn’t need. “To answer your questions, no, he doesn’t know I’m here, I didn’t personally upgrade your flights, and I think your friends are trying to get your attention.”
Even as my brain stumbled over that word “personally,” I peeped over my shoulder, where I found my sisters gaping at me.
Neev even gave me a goddamn thumbs-up.
Shooting the pair of them ocular pleas, I faced him when Neev’s thumbs-up morphed into a shooing motion. Then, I felt like hissing when I saw him looking at his phone.
Not my legs.
Dammit.
This couldn’t be one-sided.
I was hot too.
Great, I was whining in my head now.
“Um…”
“Se?”
“If it wasn’t you who upgraded my flights but Currau, then I didn’t know and I meant what I said about having no designs on his wallet.” His nephew, though, sure. Or at least, when I was high on motion sickness meds.
He smirked.
And oh, boy. There went my panties.
Wait—had I said that out loud too?!
If he’d looked like this in the hospital, then I’d have probably flirted with him. What had happened between then and now aside from him clearly overdosing on protein because bow chicka wow wow—
“Good to know.”
That was a dismissal if ever I’d heard one.
I stared at him.
He frowned at me.
My mouth watered at the scowl. Damn, that was smooth. I mean, scary too. But consider me enthralled.
As I wondered how it’d feel under my fingers, then my lips, and then—
“Miss?”
What would that feel like if he were going down on me?
Fuck, that mouth of his would be wicked. And I bet he knew exactly how to take direction too, unlike half the men in the world who got embarrassed and flustered—
“Miss!”
I jolted. Then, when I realized the attraction was one-sided, what the actual fuck, I stuttered, “U-Um. So… I-I’d better go then.”
His pointed look told me to get with the program.
That was when the strangest realization came to me—my gawking or standing there hadn’t triggered his annoyance. He just appeared genuinely aggravated by me.
But he didn’t know me.
I hadn’t really talked to him until a few minutes ago.
I was adept at pissing men off, enough that I could turn it into an Olympic sport, but so quickly? Even my patented method didn’t work this fast.
Bewildered, I gnawed on my bottom lip, aware that he caught the movement before I woodenly stepped away.
Praying that he was watching my ass, I turned my head over my shoulder, nearly stumbling to the floor in the process—that was what happened when you ODed on dimenhydrinate—and felt my heart sink.
He was reading something on his phone again.
Hadn’t he even tried to look up my skirt?
“Man, you started early,” Neev teased as I slumped into the leather armchair beside her, making a mental note to update the Wikipedia article on nausea meds’ ability to loosen someone’s tongue—and their panties—when taken in high doses.
“If that was my start, then I might as well go home now. Is he watching me?”
“No.” Raisin stopped loading iceberg lettuce onto her fork and pointed at her plate. “You’re making this cherry tomato look pale.”
“Have you seen him?” Neev buttered a roll. “I mean, he’s old but hot.”
“He’s not old. Lower your damn voice. You don’t recognize him, either?” When she shrugged, I snatched at the bottle of water Raisin passed me. “What’s wrong with you two? We live in a dangerous city! How don’t you know the dangerous people?”
Completely uninterested in hearing me rant, Neev chuckled. “Does it matter if we don’t know who he is? Especially when he isn’t into you.”
I growled under my breath at her nerve, stole the buttered roll from her hand, and took a large bite.
I’d have preferred a hole to appear underneath me so I could drop into it, but I’d endure death by carbs too.
As my sisters discussed what the lounge had to offer and how awesome it was not to be in the cattle class, my mind accelerated into overdrive.
What had I been thinking by approaching him?
And why had I reacted that way?
My problem was usually hypoarousal, not hyper. It enabled me to drop a dude like I popped a squat, with zero guilt involved. Most men annoyed me more than turned me on.
Custanzu Valentini, barely six weeks post-overdose, and apparently in the final stage of grief, had achieved what Darren, my last lay, hadn’t attained with his tongue and fingers, never mind his pencil dick.
Feeling oddly flushed, and not out of mortification, I chanced a look back at him. Something compelled me to. An urge I couldn’t fight. And saw that he was watching me.
Finally.
Our gazes locked.
Except it wasn’t heat I found in his, just irritation.
Stupidly hurt, I sought to break the connection, but I couldn’t.
He trapped me there.
As my heart pounded, perspiration gathered at the nape of my neck. Until, thank God, a server stepped between us, bringing him an espresso when this was definitely a self-service place.
No longer ensnared, I faced my sisters and found them watching me.
“You getting sick or something, Kitty?” Raisin leaned over to rest the back of her hand against my forehead.
“Maybe?” A fever would explain why I’d lost my cool.
“Here.” Neev pressed a shot of vodka into my hands. “Best cold and flu medication invented.”
“Not with Dramamine.” I shoved the vodka at her and accepted the tomato juice Raisin brought for me.
It didn’t help, but it settled my half-empty stomach some.
“How many did you take?” Concern laced Raisin’s expression. “I know you hate flying, Kitty—”
This had nothing to do with flying.
Seemed like Custanzu had performed a miracle because the death trap we were about to travel in no longer worried me.
“Double the dose.”
“Jesus, Kitty! How can you claim to be the responsible one—”
“I don’t know why you freak out,” Neev butted in. “If it’s our time to go, it’s our time to go. At least we’ll be back with Vinny and Daddy.”
Rather than answer because Neev was always insensitive about this shit, I got to my feet. “If I can’t have alcohol, I’ll have cake. Lots and lots and lots of freakin’ cake.”
Maybe a sugar overdose would erase this embarrassing half hour?
One thing was for damn sure—no way in hell would I share this nightmare with Lara, George, or Millie.
I’d never hear the end of it.