Gina

Then

I was so nervous.

God, why was I so nervous? It wasn’t like I didn’t know these guys. Thanks to Gwen I’d been around the band members of Civil Corruption enough to feel comfortable, and for the most part I was, at least with some of them.

But I never could seem to find my bearings around Killian Everett. I was a grown woman who morphed into a stuttering, fumbling disaster whenever he was around. It was the most ridiculous crush in the history of ever. He was a rich rock star, for crying out loud. I was just a chick who made coffee for a living, and barely had two nickels to rub together.

Luckily, this was a wedding reception for my friend Gwen and her new husband Garrett, so the champagne was flowing freely, providing me with the liquid courage I needed to make it through the night.

Offering the bartender a tiny smile, I held up my empty champagne flute and asked, “One more?”

I’d been fine up until a few minutes ago when my friend—and buffer—Tatum took off with the band’s lead singer, Declan Forrester, to parts unknown, leaving me all alone in a sea of people. Everyone was friendly enough, but I couldn’t help but feel like an outsider. Most everybody here worked with the band in one manner or another, or were already close, personal friends. The only one I knew closely was Gwen, and she was currently too busy slow dancing with and mooning over her famous drummer hubby to notice anything around her.

I scanned the room, looking for someone—anyone—to talk to so I wasn’t that pathetic girl standing by herself in a dark corner. Tatum was still gone, and my only other friend there, Corrine, was currently making out with her man, Ian, who just so happened to be the huge, beefy head of security for Civil Corruption. I was on my own. Something I was all too used to, unfortunately.

Pulling my phone out of the tiny purse hanging from my wrist, I scrolled through my contacts as I made my way from the room and began wandering down the halls of Gwen and Garrett’s enormous mansion. I would never say it out loud, but I totally had a major case of house envy. Then again, anything was better than my shitty little studio apartment and, sadly, I could barely even afford that.

I walked aimlessly as I scrolled, tapping the screen when I came to the number I wanted. I hit the base of a huge, curved staircase and started up as the loud trill of the phone ringing in my ear held my attention captive.

“Whispering Pines Nursing Home. How may I help you?”

I recognized the voice on the other end instantly. “Hi, Poppy. It’s Gina.”

“Gina! Hey girl, how’s it going?”

At the second story landing, I had two choices. I could go right, down the hallway, or go left, up another set of steps to the third story. My feet moved of their own accord, going left and upward slowly as I spoke. “It’s going. How’s she doing tonight?”

“She’s doing all right. Sleeping,” Poppy answered hesitantly. No worse.”

“But no better,” I added, already knowing the drill. It was pointless to hope, but even after all this time I couldn’t help it.

“No change is better than negative change, sweetheart.”

“Yeah,” I murmured, looking at the roughly hewn hardwood floor beneath my feet. “You say that every time.” I made sure to smile as I spoke, hoping she’d hear that in my voice over the disappointment.

“Yeah, well, if it’s true, it’s worth repeating.” Yet another mantra Poppy was fond of using. “What are you doing calling so late? Aren’t you supposed to be at a wedding or something tonight?”

“Yeah. I’m here now. I just wanted to do a quick check-in is all. Did she at least have a good day?” I reached the third level and lifted my head to take a glance around. I was standing in the middle of a giant open area with another hallway further off to the right. It was like another living space up here, only this one had deeply vaulted ceilings, and a set of french doors straight ahead of me that lead to a long, deep balcony that overlooked the lake.

It was picturesque and calm, the balmy temperature making it comfortable enough to be outside in the fancy little dress and strappy heels I’d borrowed from Corrine for the reception.

“Yes,” Poppy said. “She had a good day. I think it was peaceful.”

That had me breathing a sigh of relief. “Okay, well thanks, Poppy. I’ll let you go. Have a good night, and I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon, honey. And try to enjoy yourself. You deserve it.”

I hung up to phone and stuffed it into my little wristlet before dropping my head on a loud exhale. “Thank god,” I whispered into the light breeze.

“You up here prayin’?”

I let out a startled shriek and spun around quickly. “Crap, Killian. You scared the hell out of me,” I breathed, placing my palm over my racing heart.

He chuckled, leaning a broad shoulder against the doorframe. “Gotta say, Thumbelina, didn’t take you as the type.”

My forehead creased deeply as I cocked my head to the side. “The type? To pray?”

“Yeah.” He gave a careless shrug, and pushed off the frame, taking a few steps toward me, just enough to send my heart into fits.

“Well… I guess I’m not.” I was suddenly very aware of our close proximity, and the fact that we were very much alone. “At least not typically.”

“Only when there’s really something to be thankful for, then?”

The goosebumps along my skin weren’t from the nippy air, but thanks to the nervous energy and spike of adrenaline from being in Killian Everett’s presence. “Yeah,” I muttered, looking down at the ground. “I guess you could say that.”

He came another step closer. “You wanna talk about it, Thumbelina?”

“Not really,” I answered with a brisk shake of my head. “Thumbelina?”

One corner of Killian’s mouth quirked up in a little smirk. “Well, you’re not exactly big. What are you, like five feet? Five foot one?”

My anxiousness suddenly gave way to a hint of indignation. “Five-two, thank you very much,” I snapped, slapping my hands onto my hips. “That’s not tiny. That’s totally normal. You’re just… abnormally, uh, large.” Embarrassment at what I just said, and how it could be construed, set my cheeks on fire.

A low, raspy sound of amusement worked its way from Killian’s throat. “Abnormally large? Sweetness, you got no fuckin’ idea.”

“I… no… that wasn’t… I didn’t mean it like that!” I sputtered, humiliation coursing through my bloodstream. Why? Why couldn’t I stop making a fool of myself in front of this guy?

“Relax,” he said with a smirk. It was obvious he found me entertaining. At least one of us did. “I was just teasin’ you. No need to get all flustered.”

That was easy for him to say, he was the sexy, rich, famous one. I was the poor barista who’d barely made it out of high school with a diploma in hand.

Twisting my fingers in front of me, I looked down at them and murmured, “Don’t make fun of me.”

“Sweetness.” The humor was gone from his voice. That one word was spoken with soft sincerity as his rough, callused fingers pressed beneath my chin and lifted my face. “I was just playing around, promise. I wasn’t making fun of you.”

My cheeks felt about thirty degrees hotter than the rest of my body. “Felt like it to me,” I continued in a small, meek voice as I tried to force my gaze anywhere but on him.

“You’re just too much fun to tease, Thumbelina. Every time I talk to you your face and neck get all… hot and red.” His thumb scraped slowly along my cheekbone, his eyes shooting down to my lips. “I noticed you don’t get this flustered with the other guys. Only me. Why do you think that is?”

“I-I, um, don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The corner of his mouth trembled like he was fighting back a smile or a laugh. “That so? Then why does your soft skin feel like it’s on fire, sweetness?”

God, he was so damn close. And he smelled so damn good, like whiskey and spicy, citrusy cologne. “I’m just…” Just what? my brain screamed. For the love of all that’s holy, think of words, Gina! “…hot blooded.” Sweet, merciful mother of pearl. Had I really just said that?

“That you are,” he mumbled in a low gravelly voice. “That you certainly fuckin’ are.”

My mouth went dry as a desert. Trying to swallow was like trying to force a wad of cotton down my throat. “Wha—uh, what’s happening here?”

He took another step, coming so close everything about him overwhelmed all my senses. “If you don’t know, I’m really off my game. And I know I’m not off my game.”

After doing a crazy impression of a goldfish, I somehow managed to pick my jaw up off the floor long enough to ask, “Are you hitting on me?”

With his next step, his shoes bumped into the toes of me heels, forcing me to move backward until the balcony railing dug into my backside. Killian placed his hands on either side of my hips and leaned in closer. “You can play coy all you want, but you can’t fool me. You know that’s exactly what I’m doing. And I know you want me just as bad as I want you. It’s written in red all over your cheeks. There’s a damn good reason why I’m the only one of the guys you can’t manage a full sentence around.” My heart threatened to beat through my chest, and I was pretty sure my panties were about to spontaneously combust.

“What do you say we have a little fun tonight, huh? Something tells me you need it,” he whispered before the tip of his tongue peeked out and teased the skin behind my ear. “I’ve been dying to see what you wear under that little barista getup for months.”

“Y-you have?” I asked, my eyes nearly bugging out of my skull.

“Fuck yeah.” It came out in an almost aggressive growl as he closed the last few centimeters of distance between us, pushing his body flush against mine. A surprised gasp passed my lips at the feel of his thick, steely erection pressing against my belly before quickly turning into a moan when he bent his knees so his cock could brush between the apex of my thighs.

What do you say we have a little fun tonight?

His question kept replaying in my head. I couldn’t remember the last time I had fun. My life was all about responsibility and stress and constant worry.

It had been so long since I had a bit of fun without feeling guilty for it, that I barely remembered what it felt like. His proposition suddenly held more appeal than it should. Killian Everett was all kinds of wrong for me. He was a player, the very definition of a man whore.

But I desperately wanted a little fun. I wanted to forget my shitty luck, and how life had a tendency to kick me even though I was already down. And I couldn’t help but think that maybe Killian was just the man to give me that.