Ketchup dripped down Elias’s chin. People walked past, the streets choked with tourists and native New Yorkers. We sat beneath a striped green and white awning, our small café table laden with fries, onion rings, and burgers.

I scrolled through Jina’s latest article on Scarlet Rocket. This one was far more complimentary so, of course, it was only three paragraphs long. She found that Scarlet had proven herself capable of giving good advice, but Jina wasn’t entirely sure Scarlet belonged in the advice aristocracy. “Time, and the release of her upcoming novel, will tell.”

“Why are you grunting?” Elias scarfed his food as if he hadn’t eaten in days.

“Just Scarlet Rocket business. Nothing big.”

“Heard from her?”

“No.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Not sure.”

He shrugged and continued doing the piggy face with his lunch.

I picked at my food, my thoughts constantly drawn back to the night I’d spent with Scarlet, and then to the morning when I’d awoken to find her long gone. She hadn’t answered my texts or calls since. Now I was jonesing for her harder than a Hobbit for second breakfast.

“I know what’s going on in that head of yours.” Elias wiped the crime scene off his face. “You can’t just show up at her house.”

“I’ve done it before. I can do it again.”

“One time could be construed as cute, but two? Man, that’s just straight creepy.” He dabbed at some mustard he’d gotten on his tie.

I stretched my arms, then laced my fingers behind my head. “Maybe, but I can’t get her out of my mind.”

“Wank.”

“Done that.”

“Wank some more.”

“There’s only so much wanking a man can do before he gets blisters.”

“If that’s true, then I pray to god that day never comes for me. I could choke it all day. Seriously, this slick weasel is always up for a little loving. Hell, I’ve gone, like, five times in a r—”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate that. I do, but I’m not interested in your tall tales of masturbation.”

He sighed. “Looks like I’ll be getting more practice.”

I raised a brow. “Trouble in she-devil paradise?”

“Yeah, Claudia’s heading back to L.A.” He dropped his napkin on the table.

“I thought she intended to stay this time?”

He shook his head and murdered another fry. “So did I. But she’ll be gone next week. She’s supposed to be in the next Transformers movie. Not acting or anything. Just, you know, looking good.”

“Sorry, man.”

He shrugged it off, but I knew it hurt. Elias and Claudia were never a forever sort of thing, but he did have feelings for her. Ones that she was effectively axing by moving across the country.

“I guess things are tough all over.” I took a bite of my burger.

“I’ll drink to that.” He grabbed his beer bottle, and we clinked longnecks.

We ate in silence for a while, the noisy street and pedestrians filling what little space in our minds that wasn’t occupied.

“So, what have you decided to do about Scarlet?” He wiped his mouth.

I pondered what I’d tell someone who wrote into my blog with this conundrum. Something like, “if she’s interested, she’ll come to you. Don’t crowd her. Give it some time.” Completely prudent advice. I would be wise to take it. Instead, I pushed back from the table and said, “I’m going to her place.”

“Whoa.” He shook his head. “Did you hear the part I said about being a creepy stalker?”

“Yeah.” I tossed some bills on the table. “But I can’t just leave this hanging. Not after our night together. I won’t wait until Saturday when we’re under the spotlight to bring this up.”

“You ever think that maybe, I don’t know, she’s one of those modern women who can dick down with a guy and then brush it off like it wasn’t a big deal?”

“Maybe.” I rose. “But if that were true, she would have responded to my texts.”

“Good point.” He chugged the rest of his beer.

“She’s hiding. That means she felt it, too.”

He snorted. “Felt what, your di—”

“Our connection, perv.” I walked toward the street, my hand in the air for a cab.

“Hold up.” Elias dogged my heels. “I’ll go with you. It’ll keep the creep factor to a minimum.”

“Don’t you have work?”

He waved a hand, swatting the concept away. “Naw, I’m the golden boy with the SquickyLube, especially now that I’ve fixed the Vesuvius glitch you told me about.”

I didn’t particularly want him tagging along on my “confront Scarlet” mission, but I could tell he was determined. There’d be no scraping him off.

“You can come, but play it cool, okay?”

“I’m always cool.” He shrugged off his suit coat and loosened his tie. “Cooler than you.”

“If you say so.”

“It’s true.”

“Seems like you forgot the time you got blitzed at Greg Carroll’s engagement party a few months ago and pissed in the planter right next to the cake.”

A wistful smile crossed his lips. “Yeah, that was a good time.” He scratched his head as we hopped into the cab. “I wonder what happened with him and that ginger chick. I thought they’d be married by now.”

“They were married last month.” I gave the cabbie Scarlet’s address.

He cocked his head to the side. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I guess they didn’t want to invite the party pisser.”

He laughed, and the driver gave us furtive glances in the rear view. “Okay, other than that one time, I play it cool.”

“Have you forgotten about the time we were at a Yankee’s game, and you were once again blitzed, and decided that instead of a kiss cam, sporting events needed an ass cam?”

“Oh, come on. That was—”

“Indecent exposure. We can never go to the park again.”

He shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Sure, sure.” I shook my head. “Try and be on your best behavior. Scarlet lives with her sister, and she seems a little…fragile.”

“She’s the one that’s in trouble with the Pauly guy?”

“Yeah, well they both are, I guess. Scarlet hasn’t been very forthcoming with information.”

“Shocker.” He settled back into the smelly vinyl. “Shitake Shocker.”

* * *

I knocked on the faded wood door in the hallway of the rundown apartment building. The walls were covered in paneling straight from the 1970s, and I would have bet some serious money that the tiles beneath my feet were full of asbestos. Scarlet deserved better than this. What could that meathead Pauly possibly have over them that left them living like this?

“Who is it?” A quiet voice barely made it to my ears.

“Hi.” I moved closer. “Hannah, right?”

“Yes.” Her tone was wary. Smart girl.

“It’s Willis, your sister’s friend. And this is my friend Elias.”

“Hi.” He waved at the eye hole.

“Is Scarlet home?”

“No. She went out to grab some lunch.”

“Oh.” I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “I wanted to talk to her.”

“I know. I’ve seen your messages.”

“Awkward,” Elias stage-whispered.

“I remember you, and she’s told me you’re good people, so you can come in and wait for her.”

“You sure?” I stared at the scuffed eye hole. “If it makes you uncomfortable, we’re happy to wait—”

Three locks clicked in rapid succession, and Hannah pulled the door open. She wore a t-shirt with “Smash the Patriarchy” on it and some ripped jeans that hung on her slight frame. Though Scarlet had told me her sister was twenty-three, she had an air of a much younger person. “Come on in.” Her fingers were in rapid motion, twisting a Rubik’s cube while she kept her eyes on Elias and me.

“Thanks.” I walked in and once again noted how crowded their space was.

“Hi.” Elias smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

“Thanks.” Hannah matched his smile, then dropped her gaze to the floor. “You can sit on the futon. Or there’s always the wicker if you’re feeling up for a poke.”

“I’m always up for a good poke.” Elias grinned. Then reconsidered. “I mean, giving of course. Only giving.” He coughed into his palm.

I sank down on the futon, and Elias opted to join me instead of making it worse with the wicker. Hannah perched on the chair, her fingers solving the cube, though she never once looked at it.

Elias pointed at the cube that was only a few moves away from complete. “How do you do that?”

“It’s what I do.” She finished it, and her hands stilled on the solid-colored sides.

“But how can you do it without looking?”

“I can feel it.”

“Huh. I wish I could do that.”

“It’s a quirk. I close my eyes, and I see numbers.”

“You see numbers? Sort of like that kid who sees dead people?” Elias leaned forward.

She gave a sheepish smile. “Not quite like that.”

“What’s four hundred and fifty divided by seven?” Elias fired off.

“Hey, don’t quiz the poor gir—”

“How many decimal places would you like?” She smiled, the bow of her lip reminding me of her sister.

Elias gave me a bemused look. “Um, three?”

“Sixty-four point two-eight-five.”

“Wow.” Elias elbowed me. “Is that right? It sounds right. I bet it’s right. That’s amazing.”

She opened her eyes as a blush colored her fair cheeks. “That’s nothing.”

“You’re a math whiz of Rain Man proportions,” Elias said, and I agreed.

“You want to see something cool?” She shot a furtive glance at the door.

“Sure.” Elias leaned forward.

“Like what?” I didn’t want to piss Scarlet off before I had a chance to speak to her about our night together.

“Don’t worry.” She reached beneath the small coffee table and pulled a set of cards from a drawer. Handing them to Elias, she said, “Shuffle.”

He took them and flipped out the jokers, then shuffled. “Okay, now what?”

She licked her lips, clearly in her element. “Flip them over quickly, one on top of the other until the deck only has one card left. Keep that card hidden.”

“Okay?” Elias furrowed his brow and glanced at me.

An itch started at the back of my mind, as if a small ant was crawling up my scalp. Tickling with its legs, and warning with its pincers. “I’m not sure if we should—”

Elias started flipping the cards, one after the other as Hannah watched.

“Faster.” She circled her index finger. “Faster.”

He flipped them in a rush, one card barely visible before the next slammed down on top. When there was only one card left, he stopped.

“Nine of clubs.” She smiled, giving her an angelic appearance.

Elias flipped the final card over. Nine of clubs.

Elias’s eyes rounded. “How?”

“She can count cards.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose. I couldn’t know for sure, but I was certain her ability had something to do with Pauly. Whatever trouble they were in with him, it was deep.

“I read numbers. Scarlet reads people.” She shrugged, then winked at Elias. “Want to go again?”

“Yeah.” He straightened the cards then shuffled again.

The locks on the front door began flipping over.

“Oh, no.” Hannah snatched the cards and shoved them and the card box into the drawer under the table.

By the time Scarlet had opened the door, we were all sitting in her living room staring at each other, not a word on our lips.

“Oh, god.” Scarlet arched a brow and slammed the door behind her. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing.” Hannah answered far too quickly.

Scarlet placed a bag of what looked like sandwiches and chips on the narrow kitchen counter. “Hannah, come eat.” She kicked her shoes off. “Sparky, what are you doing here, and who’s this?” She wore a v-neck t-shirt with a pair of nicely fitting jeans. Her red hair was swung up into a high ponytail, and her makeup-free face was clean and more than a little perturbed.

She was referring to me by my nickname again, putting more distance between us. I’d cross the miles to get to her, to finally get to know her more than just as “Scarlet.” The burning need to know her true identity seared back to life inside me, but I ignored it. “I tried to call and text, but you wouldn’t respond. This is my friend Elias.”

“Hi.” He smiled, though his eyes travelled to Hannah, who stood at the counter and tore open the food bag.

“Nice to meet you, Elias.” She crooked a finger at me and headed down the short hallway toward the bedrooms. “Come on, Sparky. Let’s talk in my room.”

I rose and followed. A small bedroom to my left had a pile of Rubik’s cubes in one corner and walls covered with numbers and equations in red marker. Scarlet kept walking to the last door at the end of the hall. “This is me.” She swung it open and ushered me inside, then closed the door behind us.

A queen-sized bed with a turquoise comforter sat in the middle of the room, and a small desk with a laptop was pushed against the wall next to the window. Clothes were draped along the back of the desk chair, and little bits of personality showed in the varied art that lined her walls. Nudes and abstract pieces, bright colors mixed with simple black and white.

“You have an eye for art?”

“I dabble in counterfeits.” She smiled and sat on her bed. “Have a seat.”

I sank next to her, our thighs touching.

She turned, her deep brown eyes mesmerizing me. “You can’t just come to my house whenever you’re feeling antsy.”

“If you’d answered my texts or calls, I wouldn’t have had to.”

“This verges on stalker territory.” Her light tone belied her words.

“First, I’m worried about you. This whole Pauly thing has me losing sleep. Second, I think you like it when I check up on you.”

The corner of her lips twitched, and she turned away from me. “I don’t.”

“Look in my eyes and say it.” Just being this close to her, the scent of vanilla, the smoothness of her skin—all of it lit me up brighter than a Gloworm on an acid trip.

She returned her gaze to mine, amusement making her eye sparkle. “I don’t like you checking up on me.”

“Right.” I leaned closer. “If I didn’t know better, it seems like you missed me.”

“Dream on, Sparky.” She rose and leaned against the wall opposite me.

I strung a catalog of fucks together in my mind at her sudden distance. “Why didn’t you respond?”

“Jeez, you’re a wet blanket.”

“More like a very masculine sort of duvet.”

“A wet blanket who takes metaphors too far.” She crossed her arms over her stomach. “Don’t you write blog posts where you pretend to be the type of woman who can sleep with a guy and then move on from it the next day? You know, like a normal person?”

I brushed aside the sting of her words. “It meant more than that.”

“Maybe to you.” She shook her head. “We spent some time together, okay? It doesn’t mean we’re married now. It doesn’t make it okay for you to stop by my place whenever you want.”

“We didn’t just spend time.” I rose and took the short steps to her.

She tilted her chin up, holding my gaze as I peered down at her. “Okay, we had sex. Same principle applies. This isn’t forever.”

“Why are you in denial?”

She crinkled her nose. “It’s not denial. It’s the truth.”

“So you’re saying that when I do this”—I dragged my thumb across her bottom lip—“it doesn’t do anything for you?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“What about this?” I bent down and softly pressed my lips to hers. Her taste reminded me of everything I ever wanted but wasn’t able to get. She was fleeting, but I needed her to stay. I pressed my lips harder against hers, and she opened her mouth.

I massaged her tongue with mine, destroying her defenses with each caress. When she wrapped her hands around my neck, I hummed with satisfaction.

She broke the kiss. “I can’t do this.”

“What?”

“Get involved with you.”

“Why not?” I stroked my thumb down her cheek.

“I just can’t.” Her troubled eyes met mine. “Not with you.”

“What are you scared of?”

“I’m not the woman for you.”

“Let me make that decision.” I kissed her again, swallowing her protest as I grabbed her ass and lifted her, pinning her between me and a fake Picasso.

Her hands ran through my hair, pulling and scratching as she returned my kiss with a recklessness that seemed to be a taste of her essence. This was her—no caution, no care—just pure enjoyment.

I squeezed her ass, then turned around and lay her on the bed. We kissed like teenagers, making out while our hands explored each other. Over our clothes, then under, then my fingers dipped inside her. She gasped against my lips as I pulled my fingers to her clit and rubbed her in circling strokes.

“Willis.”

“That’s it.” I nibbled her ear and couldn’t stop myself from thrusting against her gently, dry fucking her thigh as I fingered her.

She began to move her hips in a jerky rhythm, her breath catching in her throat. “They’ll hear.”

“Then we’ll have to be quiet.” I licked and sucked her neck. “Just enjoy this feeling.”

A low moan rose in her throat as she moved against my fingers, her wet pussy making me crazy with the need for her.

“I’m almost there,” she whispered.

My fingers froze.

Her eyes widened. “Wha—”

“Promise me you won’t shut me out again.” I stared down at her.

“Keep going.” She tried to ride my fingers, but I pulled them away from her needy flesh.

“Promise me.”

Her forehead wrinkled as she glared at me.

“Promise, and I’ll let you come.” I flicked her clit for emphasis.

She jerked, but I eased kisses down her throat. “Just promise me.”

She dug her nails into my forearm, but hissed out her answer, “I promise.”

“That’s it.” I pressed my fingers against her clit and stroked her faster, keeping the pressure on as she tensed beneath me.

I kissed her again, stealing her cry as she came, her body tightening and then relaxing as she clutched at my shoulders. When she was spent, she lay limp in the bed. Laughter filtered through the door at intervals, Elias and Hannah keeping themselves occupied.

“You’re an ass.” She dropped her hands over her head as she gulped in air.

I stood. “I’d best be going, blogging to do and all. But I’ll call you tonight. If you don’t answer, I’ll be back.” I slid my fingers into my mouth and licked her taste.

Her mouth dropped open. I took her hand and kissed the back, then headed into the living area.

Elias and Hannah sat at the kitchen counter—she was blushing; he was demonstrating the “shocker” motion with his hand.

“—this amazing mushroom head on it, you know? But my boss shot down the prototype. I’m looking into maybe getting some private funding, going out on my own for it. With the realistic veins and the intense pink and stink action, there’s no way a private investor wouldn’t jump on it.”

“Come on, Elias. We’re out.”

“What’s got you so hot to twat?” He frowned, but rose. “I guess we’re going.”

She laughed. “Thanks for the shocker talk.”

“Anytime.”

I pulled him out the front door and down the rickety stairs to the exterior door.

“What happened?” He turned to stare up at their apartment as I hailed a cab.

“We talked it out. She’s going to be more communicative now.”

“Just talked?”

“Yeah.” My raging boner would beg to differ, but my t-shirt and jeans hid it well enough.

“Uh huh.” He turned his eyes on me, a smirk twisting one side of his mouth. “One question.”

“What?”

“Can I smell your fingers?”

I smacked him on the back of the head.