A photo loads—just enough skin, shadows, and one of her smirks that makes my mouth go dry.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, glancing around, even though no one is close enough to see.
The car’s headlights flash down the block, but I barely notice as my thumb hovers over my phone like it suddenly turned to gold.
Distracted?
Yeah. I was gone.
I grin, firing off a quick reply before sliding into the car.
Me: You’re evil. But I’m not complaining.
Vegas can wait.
Right now, all I can think about is her.
The driver pulls up, headlights washing over the curb as I slide my phone back into my pocket, the ghost of Amelia’s message still burning in my head. I yank open the door, collapsing into the back seat, the soft buzz of the radio mixing with the city noise outside.
“Hey, man. Ash, right?” the driver asks, eyes flicking to me through the rearview.
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“Cool.”
“Yeah—” I start, but then my phone buzzes again.
I don’t even hesitate. I yank it back out, and my thumb swipes over the screen.
Amelia: Still think I’m evil?
Attached is another photo.
Her.
Laid out on her bed, nothing but a pair of black panties hugging her hips, her legs stretched out, and those perfect breasts on display, one hand in her hair, the other holding the phone to snap the shot. Her smile is trouble—pure and smug, and she damn well knows what she is doing.
My throat goes dry.
“Uh—actually—” I fumble, already hitting the app to change the drop-off, “new location. I’ll update it now.”
The driver lets out a low chuckle. “No problem, man. Happens more than you think.”
I smile, shaking my head as I type in Amelia’s address.
Me: You win. On my way.
The driver makes a quick turn, heading in the opposite direction.
I sink deeper into the seat, adjusting myself slightly, my heart racing, and a grin I can’t fight pulling at my lips.
Yeah.
I’m not going back to the apartment tonight. I will just get up early in the morning and grab my bike before we leave for Vegas.
The rideshare barely has time to roll to a full stop before I am out, boots hitting the pavement hard as I make my way up the path to Amelia’s front door. My heart is still racing, a wicked grin pulling at my mouth, the echo of her text still searing in my head.
The porch light turns on as I hit the first step—but before I can even raise my hand to knock, the door creaks open.
