Page 5 of Forbidden Lyrics

“Yes. I remember. Hi.”

The prickly bear shifts his gaze from me to a hallway on the right of the stairs. “Kitchen’s over there.”

“Okay. Thank you.” I slip off my shoes, set them next to the front door, and look up to find Milo inspecting me, making me feel like I belong under a microscope.

“What are you doing?” he grunts.

“Um.” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Taking off my shoes? Isn’t that the polite thing to do when you walk into someone’s house?”

With another crooked smirk––curse those dimples––he nods. “All right, then. Don’t let Reese burn the house down.”

“Is that where the smell is coming from?”

Always so serious, his gruff laugh is basically the equivalent to an Academy Award for comedians and makes my heart pick up its pace as he grabs a leather jacket from a coat rack. He slides his arms into it before searching its pockets for a small set of keys that likely belong to the motorcycle parked out front.

“Good luck with that,” he returns. “See you around, Dove.”

He steps out the door, and I’m left gawking at the bad boy who screams sex and bad ideas louder than a siren. The stranger’s warning from the night before echoes through my head again, but I shake it off.

Reese is right. There probably isn’t even an ex named Em, let alone one who disappeared out of the blue after a bad break-up. That doesn’t happen in real life. He was simply trying to freak me out.

And it worked.

I scatter the completely inappropriate thoughts about my friend’s older brother with a quick shake of my head and mosey down the hall toward the kitchen––and the scent of burnt sugar––before stumbling upon a scene I highly doubt I was supposed to see. Unless it’s normal to be pinned up against the cupboards by a guy without a shirt? Again, not exactly my forte.

My heels dig into the floor as I screech to a halt. “Crap. Sorry. I’ll just…”

After shoving the hot guy away, Reese’s hand flies to her chest. “Hey, Dove.”

“Hi.” I wave before wrinkling my nose, the scent getting stronger. “What’s that smell?”

She rolls her eyes before turning to the stove. “Dammit, River! I burnt the caramel again.”

“Caramel?” Striding over to the stove, I assess the black sludge at the bottom of the pot. “That’s supposed to be caramel?”

“Well, it was,” Reese defends.

“And how ‘bout those over there?” I point to the two other pots in the sink.

Reese’s friend, River, chuckles under his breath. “Told ya, Floozy. Have fun on your girls’ night.”

“And where are you going?” she asks, trying to keep her tone light and airy, but it comes out with an edge that screams restrained curiosity.

“I already told you,” he answers. “Out.”

“You told Milo you have a date,” she argues. The poor thing is oozing jealousy from every pore as she looks up at him with a vulnerability that nearly breaks me. I shouldn’t be here. Not for this.

“Where’s the bathroom?” I interrupt, desperate to give them an ounce of privacy while they figure out whatever the heck is going on between them.

“The one on this floor is clogged,” Reese replies, a fake smile plastered on her face. “And they’re all waiting for someone else to fix it like a bunch of pansies, but if you go to the top of the stairs and turn left, it’ll be the first door on your right.”

“Left and then a right. Got it.” Holding my breath, I tiptoe down the hallway and up the stairs while trying not to touch something because, like I said, my mother would knock me upside the head if she thought I was snooping in someone else’s house.

But I’m not.

I’m simply giving the lovebirds a bit of privacy.

You’re welcome, Reese.

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