Kiss Me Tonight (Kiss Me 2)

I grinned. It was dumb, but I fucking grinned.

ME: Good talk, Noah with the hot tattoos and the nice cock. Have fun at work.

Banging on my car window stopped me from grinning at my screen like the idiot I became whenever he texted me. Something was seriously wrong with me.

I looked up at my window. It was Halley and Ava and, as I’d suspected, they were already at my apartment. Judging by the half-empty wine glasses they held, they’d set up camp quite a while ago.

Friday night was officially a go, and thank God for that.

I got out of the car and almost immediately, Halley grabbed me.

“What were you grinning at in there?” she demanded.

“Get another dick pic?” Ava waggled her eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed my purse so I could lock my car. “No. I did, however, get his name.”

“Today? You texted him two days ago!”

“He said he was working.” I shrugged. “It happens, you know.”

“Well, what is it?” Halley asked, using my key to unlock the front door and let us in. She shoved the door open with her hip.

“Noah,” I replied.

Ava tilted her head to the side. “Nope. We don’t know him. I don’t know a Noah, do you, Hals?”

Halley nodded. “But he’s my friend’s six-month-old cousin, so he’s probably not the culprit here.”

“Gee, ya think?” I drawled, taking my keys back before we hit the stairs. “Is the pizza here yet?”

Ava checked her watch. “Ten minutes and yes, I poured you wine.”

I unlocked the front door with a smirk. “Sometimes, I don’t regret giving you a key at all.”

CHAPTER FOUR – REAGAN

It’s Getting Hot In Here

I locked the door, rubbing under my eyes so I didn’t smudge my mascara. Two bottles of wine, two pizzas, and the Colin Firth version of Pride and Prejudice later, girls’ night was finally over.

It was barely eleven o’clock and I was exhausted. Problem was, I had to shower. I had pizza sauce in my hair and I just felt generally grimy thanks to a full day in the store.

After quickly checking my phone, I stripped off on my way to the bathroom, leaving a messy trail of clothes through my apartment that I’d clean up tomorrow. I didn’t much care right now.

I just wanted a good long, hot shower.

So that was what I did. I turned the heat up until it was the hottest temperature I could bare and got in. There was a quick detour to grab some face wipes to remove my makeup before my mascara could run and sting my eyes.

I soaked myself in the water, reveling in the sensation of the heat beating away at my skin. The entire bathroom steamed up as I went through the motions of shampooing my hair and conditioning it. My skin was red raw by the time I was done scrubbing it with my sponge and then my loofa.

But I was clean.

I was oh so clean and it felt oh so good.

I turned the shower off and climbed out. I grabbed the nearest towel and wrapped it around my body, then picked up a second and twisted my hair into it on top of my head.

It was like a giant diaper on my head.

It wobbled as I made my way through to my bedroom, humming along to myself. Taylor Swift’s latest song had been played on the radio over and over today and it was firmly stuck in my head. It was the tune to my post-shower rituals of digging out my oldest, most comfortable underwear ready for tomorrow morning’s lazy session.

I dragged out a tank top that declared me wanting to be where the people aren’t and thick banded panties that branded Victoria’s Secret all around the waist. After quickly drying myself off, I got into the clothes, adjusted the fabric over my boobs, and reached up for the towel.

It took me a few minutes to work a wide-toothed comb through my hair and get the knots out of my thick curls. When that was done, I snapped a band on my wrist before grabbing my moisturizer.

It took a few more minutes to work through my nightly skincare routine, and I was eyeing up the sachet of cucumber face mask when I paused.

Something smelled…funny.

I pushed my stool back from my dressing table and walked out into my apartment. The closer I got to the front door, the stronger the smell was. I couldn’t place—

Burning.

Something was burning.

I spun, checking every inch of my apartment. There were no lit candles, and I hadn’t used the cooker at all day today, so I knew it wasn’t that. Nor had I turned on my hair tools for it to be one of those.

Oh, my God.

What if something was wrong somewhere else?

I ran to my front door and tugged. It didn’t open. It was locked. I’d locked it before I got in the shower.