The One I Want - Page 89

Out of all the men in Manhattan, she could have her pick. Out of millions, we bumped into each other too many times to call it a coincidence, some may say. Some . . . like my mother.

I meant what I said to Juni, though. I’m thankful destiny chose Juni and me to mess with.

She says, “Now that I got it started, you have to do it, Drew.” She hands the burning stick to me, and I stand there, not sure what I’m actually supposed to do with it other than walk around aimlessly. “I promised your mom.”

My mom moved over to Nick’s on Monday and then left for LA today. It was good to see her and have her meet Juni, whom she loved. She called me from the plane to tell me about first words and destiny, but I didn’t catch the rest before she had to hang up. It was a strange conversation.

“Do I chant something?” That makes her giggle, but I’m not actually kidding. “What does it say to do again?”

“Number two. Eradicate negative vibes from the apartment on the sixth Thursday after arrival. It’s the sixth Thursday since you came to New York, so we’re all good. Just walk around with it.”

I keep walking, stopping to look out the window as lights populate in the windows of the residential buildings across the avenue. “How much negativity could I have generated in six weeks?”

“That’s not for me to decide, but I assume by your track record quite a bit. Six weeks is enough time for you to get so buried in work that you’d be dragging your stress home every night.”

Moving behind her as she rests her elbows on the island has me remembering how fucking good it felt to be buried inside her then. I rub my hand over her ass. “C’mere.”

She turns, her hair swinging in a high ponytail on her head. I hold the smudge stick away from her and wrap my other arm around her. She’s only dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, but she still manages to steal my breath. She links her arms around my neck and rises on her toes. “Kiss me,” she says.

I lean down and close my eyes. Our lips meet in a gentle caress. Sometimes it’s soft, sometimes hard, other times fast and frenzied, or like now, slow and tender. Every kiss with her is steeped in meaning, and I’m memorizing each one.

“Ow!” she yells, jumping out of my arms and furiously patting the bottom of her jeans.

Looking down, I see the stick has left ashes on the floor, burning through the wood in several places. “Shit.” Smoke fills the room by the time I drop the stick in the sink and douse it with water. The smoke detectors go off, and I say, “Call downstairs and tell them it’s being handled.”

I grab two bottles of water from the fridge and start dumping them on the floor. Before the first bottle is empty, the alarms in the hall sound. I look up to find Juni hanging up. “It’s too late,” she says. “The fire department has to come out to check for structural safety.”

“Fuck.”

Two hours later, a firefighter approaches, not looking happy with me.

Understandable. I’m embarrassed that I caused the street to close and that every resident in the building had to be evacuated. “Fortunately, the fire was contained to your apartment. The damage to the floor didn’t spread after you put out the embers.” He looks toward the flashing lights on the police car barricade, and then adds, “The building is safe and secured. We’ve already started to help some of the elderly back to their floors. You’re going to receive a fine and bill from the city. I’d like to advise you not to play with fire, Mr. Christiansen. This could have been much more serious and deadly.”

I’m not arguing with a man carrying an ax around, so I say, “I understand.”

He leaves, and I start to look for Juni. The crowd is dense, and it’s dark, but I spot her up ahead with Rascal under one arm and her other hooked around an older man.

“Andrew?” I turn to see Gil waving me over.

I run my fingers through my hair, mad at myself for causing this trouble. “Hey, I’m sorry, I—”

“It happens. We’ve had entire apartments burn through. I’m not letting you off the hook, but accidents happen, and fortunately, no one was hurt. Hey, do you mind helping Mrs. Hendricks back to her apartment?”

“Of course.”

The woman must be in her eighties if I’m being generous. “Tall and handsome. Gil knows my type.” She laughs, and I introduce myself. The wait for the elevator takes over an hour, so I sit with her in the lobby until it’s our turn.

She asks, “Have I seen you spending time with Juni Jacobs?”

Tags: S.L. Scott Erotic
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