Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Chalk that up to the whole five foot eleven inches thing.
Tall women who are not me are hot.
I’m just all-around awkward.
Add to that the curly hair, freckles, glasses, and my natural shyness, and maybe it’s clear why most men aren’t attracted. Mika is kind and likes to say I’m intimidating, so beautiful that most guys can’t even work up the nerve to speak to me. All the emphasis should be on the word kind.
“Were you…listening to metal music?” I croak, a dying frog to the last.
“I don’t know. Was I?”
How am I supposed to answer that? I wish he would stop staring at me with his killer hotness while sipping on that drink like he can read my mind and wants to take the starring role in my filthiest, wildest dreams.
It’s a relief when his eyes tear away from my face, but then he leans up on the bar, holding his drink casually, his face only a few inches from mine. I’m so startled that I can’t even pull back. I’m frozen, essentially breathing the same air as him, my nipples for sure hard enough to shred through my trench coat. I’m probably soaking through the darned lace panties I have on, and that would be a travesty of embarrassment I would not recover from.
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.
“Do you play?”
Play what? Oh my god, play what?
My brain finally slams into something other than panic mode. I follow his line of sight over my shoulder, directly to the piano.
Oh. Oh.
“I do. Since I was three.”
His smile lights up the whole room, and my nipples respond by going on a full slasher rampage.
“It’s yours if you want it.”
I burst out laughing. “Oh my god. What a thing to say. I can barely look at it for fear that something will happen to it.”
“Give me your address. I’ll have it delivered tomorrow.”
How many drinks has this guy had? Has he been in here, just sipping away by himself? I give him another scan, trailing my eyes down his impressive body. He doesn’t look drunk. Maybe he holds his alcohol well.
“It’s cruel to tease someone like that. Not that you were serious, but I’ll have to decline. It’s the size of my condo, and it’s so heavy that it would probably go through the floor.” It feels painfully good to be playful. Maybe that’s what he was going for. Some light teasing because I must look like I’ve had the worst day known to mankind. I gave him a hint when I told him my car needed a tow, but looking like a trash panda with my makeup all over my face is pretty much a dead giveaway.
Right. That would also be why he’d stared at me.
Duh.
It’s hard to look away from a trainwreck.
That realization goes a long way to cool down my overheated skin and simmering ovaries, but it’s also like a stone or irrational disappointment sinking in the pit of my stomach.
“Why don’t you play something?”
“No way! I couldn’t do that,” I reply.
“Why not?” The real question is, why does the action of him lifting his brow like that make him so farging irresistible? “Management won’t mind.”
“I just couldn’t. It’s…that’s a special instrument. It’s far too beautiful to be touched by the likes of…of…plebs like me.”
He throws back his head and laughs like he’s trying to dismantle the ceiling. The sound rolls through me like that first taste of something sweet and forbidden. When he’s done, he brushes his eyes.
“Believe me, you can’t hurt it. That thing would survive earthquakes and zombies. Probably both if they happened simultaneously.”
“Oh goodness. Not the zombie earthquake.”
His grin makes my panties even wetter. Maybe that should be on the list of natural disasters. Panty tsunamis. “Volcano eruption and dragons,” he adds.
“Ghouls, ghosts, and an ice age.”
“Please.” He finishes the last of his drink. “It’s dead in here. No one is going to know. As you said, it’s one of a kind. You’ll probably never get another chance.” A crack must appear in my resolve, and he goes for the kill. “I happen to know it’s freshly tuned.”
Gah. This guy really knows how to talk dirty.
I extend my hands, cracking my fingers and shaking them out. It’s been a shit night so far. Bad things come in threes, so I should be done as long as my phone dying when I truly needed it counts.
I know if I don’t play that piano, it’s literally going to haunt me. I’ll spend forever wishing I had.
I slide off the stool before I can talk myself out of it. “Alright, but if you call the cops on me for touching it, I’m going to kill you.”
He leans his elbow on the bar, balancing in the world’s ungodliest, sexy pose. “I’m sure homicide is a much worse crime than a little piano tickling.”