Something About a Hot Guy

“If you’re trying to go covert, you’re failing. I can hear you. Open up.”

Crap.

All the craps.

Fisting my hands, I attempted to even out my breathing, play it cool (yeah right), and I bit down on my bottom lip. Shaking out of control, I reached out to turn the lock.

Warily, I cracked the door open an inch, only wide enough to peer out with one eye.

A big hand lifted and nudged the door open farther, sending me stumbling back.

Remember those weak knees? They just about fully gave up on me.

Blood drained from my head in favor of going for a stampede through my body, head rushed with a bout of dizziness and stupidity, spiraling me into that fantasy world where I liked to live before I could stop it.

It was all mixed up with the anxiety that raced and sped, hitting my limbs at full blast. It was a reaction I always had when I got nervous, tripping all over myself, nothing but a fidgeting, clumsy mess.

My mouth went completely dry, and I was pretty sure every brain cell I had blanked out.

Well, all but the ones that were taking him in as if he were a storm rising over a drought-parched desert.

Coming at full force.

“W-w-hat are you doing here?” I stuttered.

Kyle Love was standing in my doorway.

My best friend’s big brother.

In the flesh.

In all the glorious, gorgeous flesh that made up that six-foot-two body. All lean, sinewy muscle and easy arrogance that made his masculine face almost appear cute.

Dark eyes swept me. Head to toe. Way slower than seemed necessary. Chills of distress and attraction crawled across my flesh, as if all those feelings I’d tried to keep contained were climbing out from the recesses.

Oh God, I was going to pass out.

“Well, if it isn’t Kenna Myer. All grown up.” He said my name like a tease, smooth and soft and mocking.

I hadn’t seen him in two years. Not since mine and Vanessa’s college graduation. He’d come to our hometown for the ceremony and party afterward.

That was where I had my last memory of him.

This guy who’d been my first crush.

There was a reason they called it that, you know? When you got crushed for the first time, you got completely obliterated. Smashed. Demolished in a way you never could have anticipated.

Since then, I’d avoided him at all costs. It’d become my superpower. Only I hadn’t seen this encounter coming, and I was left without backups.

A smirk ticked up at the corner of his mouth.

“You look surprised. Weren’t expecting me?”

I could feel my own lips parting in response, dropping open as I thought about what it might be like to experience those lips against mine.

I bet they tasted as good as they looked.

Heat flashed and something heavy rolled around in my belly.

Damn it. Get yourself together, Kenna. You aren’t ever gonna know how that mouth tastes.

Because I was Kenna Myer and he was Kyle-Freaking-Love.

Because he was so out of my league that it caused me physical pain to look at him.

Regret and want twisted through my insides, and I shifted uneasily on my feet, fiddling with my hands, not sure what to do with them.

I needed to get him out of here and fast.

“Kyle. What are you doing here?” This time, I managed to make it come out like a demand.

That smirk ticked up higher, and he leaned against the door jamb as if he owned the place.

Oh, that’s right, he did.

Vanessa and I were only leasing the apartment from him while he was out of the country.

And there he was, filling up the doorway with those wide shoulders and massive presence.

He arched a cocky brow. “What, you act like you aren’t happy to see me?”

Oh, was that ever a loaded question.

I fumbled back a step, needing to get free of the force that surrounded him.

Magnetic.

The man so compelling it felt impossible to look away, every loaded second drawing me in, my entire being attracted to his essence.

A couple seconds more, and he’d have to pry me off. I bet he’d love that.

“Um . . . well . . . Vanessa isn’t here,” I stammered. “She’s gone for the weekend. You’ll have to come back on Monday.”

A grin cracked his face, and his expression lifted in a challenge. “I’m afraid that’s going to be a problem.”

He glanced at the big bag he’d dropped on the ground at his feet, then returned the force of his gaze to me. Again, those brown eyes were taking a path over my body, gliding from my head and traipsing down.

It felt like a slow-slide of interrogation.

What in the world was he doing?

Redness clawed over every inch of my skin, and I was just then noting that I wasn’t wearing a bra, one of the shoulders of my sweatshirt draped off one side, my shorts so short under it that I bet it looked like I wasn’t wearing any at all.