Before Him

“Didn’t you get enough of that yesterday from Chelsea?”

“She actually made my hangover worse.” As the door closes quietly behind us, April links her arm through mine.

“Oh, God. Agreed! I’m so pleased I’m not sharing a room with her. Talk about TMI.”

“Do it, Kennedy,” April whispers, pressing her head to my shoulder. “Do. Eeet. Take one for the team!”

“My sex life is not a group thing.”

“Your sex life is not an anything. Come on, Kennedy. You know you want to.”

“If you’re gonna play the little devil sitting on my shoulder, I should buy you some red horns.”

“Better make them glittery ones.”

“Like you need more bling,” I reply, shooing her ahead of me and slapping her sparkly dress-covered ass.

“Again.” She throws a cheeky glance over her shoulder. “You know I like it a little rough.”

“I know nothing of the kind.” What I do know is I had enough ass whoopings from my mother’s boyfriends as a kid to know it’s not my thing.

“There’s a bad girl in all of us, Kennedy.”

“Nope, I’m all books and grades and good girl tales.”

“Mark my words, that man will do very, very bad things to you, and you’re gonna cry with delight.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. You’re going down. And if you’re lucky, he will, too.”

“Honestly? I think oral sex is vastly overrated.”

I follow her cackling laughter all the way to the hotel bar.

7

Kennedy

Past

HiIGH HEELS & HIGHER MORALS

“Gaz, I thought you said this club was five minutes away,” one of Roman’s friends calls out, receiving only a mumbled reply. A few drinks later, and we’re out on the Strip. The sky is dark and the clouds darker still, their low-lying presence making the night air heavy. Roman and I bring up the rear of our not so merry band as those in front begin to realise Hakkasan might not be within a comfortable walking distance. At least, not in heels.

“I still don’t know how you get Gaz from Jake.” My questioning gaze flicks to Roman as I ignore how my shoes now pinch.

Hands in his pants pockets, he shrugs. But honestly? He looks supremely amused.“He didn’t say Gaz. He said Gas.”

“Oh.” Ew? “Do I want to know?” I ask hesitantly.

“It’s short for Gastro.” He smiles again. I’m sure whatever he does for a living, people in his workplace mustn’t get a lot of work done when this guy is in a smiling mood. At least, I can see that being the case for female staff.

“Well, Gas short for Gastro short for Jake clearly hadn’t considered the walk in heels.” Or the potential for our makeup to be sliding from our faces.

“You wanna piggyback?” His tone is playful as he makes as though to let me hop on board. Get your mind out of the gutter. We’re in public, you know!

“Thanks, but I’ll pass. This dress wasn’t made for piggybacking.” I feel the brush of his gaze like a tactile thing.

“It looks like one yank of that chain, and you’re in trouble.”

“There’s always someone yanking my chain.” I duck my head and try to ignore what his attention does to me. “So come on. Explain this Aussie naming convention thing to me.”

“Well, the story goes that, when he was at high school, the science department had to instigate a new rule because of him. A rule that still stands today, apparently.”

“You went to school together?”

He shakes his head. “I only met them recently. We’re holiday buddies.”

“Is this rule a secret?”

Roman opens his mouth, then appears to think better of what he’s about to say. “You’re sure you want to hear?”

“I asked.” But I am only half listening. Watching his mouth? Sure. Thinking about what it would be like to kiss him? Absolutely. I don’t realise my error until Roman is already speaking.

“The rule was, is, no eating any part of an animal being dissected in biology class.”

“Ew, no!” I press my hand to my stomach as it roils. “That’s so gross.”

“That’s his claim to fame.”

“He can keep it! I want no part of that.”

“You know there’s a joke in there, don’t you?” Roman’s footsteps slow, mine following accordingly, aided as I find my fingers in his.

“Is this where you ask me if I’d like a little part of you?”

“It’s not little, Kennedy.” There’s a dark earnestness in his answer, one that takes more than my brain by surprise, an intense and sudden beat beginning to pound between my legs. I was expecting a quip, and I am so not prepared to be tugged closer. “I’m not sure if you bring out the best or the worst in me,” he murmurs, crossing his arms low across my back. It’s not a sexual kind of embrace, as far as I can tell. More like a hug between friends, given the way he rocks us from side to side. At least until his head dips, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “I’d really like to kiss you.”