Page 2 of Sweet and Salty

“Maybe I am,” I fire back, even though he’s right. Blame it on my strict upbringing, but I’ve never broken any rules or stepped over any lines in the history of forever.

“Whatever you say,” he says, taking up a good lean against the brick.

Jesus, even leaning he’s so much taller than me, andbig.Like muscles for days beneath the fully black clothing he wears, the gloves and outfit only adding to the mystery of his masked features. And I can’t help it, I take my time looking at him, trailing my gaze over his muscled chest all the way down to his massive thighs. If I had to guess, I’d say the guy is an athlete, or maybe he’s just a gym enthusiast.

“You’re not a Reaper, are you?” I ask, suddenly curious if he came with the gaggle of friends Echo brought with her.

“I don’t play hockey,” he says. “But I can’t guarantee I won’t steal your soul, if that’s what you’re asking.”

A laugh tears through my lips, a warm shiver of delight spiraling down the middle of me at his words. At the way his presence eats up every inch of this roof even though we have miles of open sky above us. How he’s somehow shaking things awake inside me that had been perfectly content sleeping before.

“Do I look that innocent?” I ask, fully committing to the little flirtation we have going.

He moves a little closer, and my heart flutters in my chest. “Absolutely,” he says. “Innocent, reserved, rule-follower. Sexy as sin, but an innocent little kitten through and through.”

I part my lips, a little flush of anger slicing through me even though he isn’t wrong. And damn it, I’msotired of being those things. I have been for a while, the agony of the box I’ve been living in growing bigger every day.

For once, can’t I play the part of the wild, reckless, temptress?

I can, can’t I? I mean, that’s why we’re here. That’s why we’re hiding our identities, right? It’s healthy to explore fantasies and take risks every once and a while, and I’ve never done that even when I constantly advised patients to do it all the time in a safe way.

So, why not take some of my own advice?

Confidence and anticipation storm through me.

“You’ve got me all wrong, Silver,” I say, reaching out and trailing a finger down his mask, shocked to find it’s metal and cool to the touch instead of a flimsy plastic.

“Do I?” he asks, not drawing away from my touch. “Because something tells me one night with me and I’d ruin a perfect little thing like you.”

“Who says I’m going to spend the night with you?” I ask, pulse thrumming in my veins. Excitement flaring across every inch of my body.

“You did,” he says, gliding that gloved hand over my bare shoulder.

I do my best not to purr at the touch.

What is it about not knowing athingabout this stranger—down to what color of eyes he has—that makes the moment so damn sexy? Even the gloves feel forbidden against my skin, causing desire to pulse in my core in a needy little heartbeat.

What has gotten into me? Where’s all my reasoning and logic gone?

I must’ve left them back at the bar, because I find myself asking, “When did I tell you that?”

His hand finds my hip, and I let him touch me there, let him draw me closer until our bodies are flush. “The second you stepped onto this roof with me.”

CHAPTER 2

Zoe

TWO MONTHS LATER

Silver: What did you bring for lunch today?

Iglance down at the text, unable to stop the smile spreading over my face. I can’t help it, anytime he texts—which has been every day since I texted him back a month and a half ago—I get this undeniable giddy feeling. It’s ridiculous, especially since we still don’t know each other’s real names, but it’sfun.

Me: I actually forgot to pack one today.

I settle back into my office chair, grinning at my phone like I’m a teenager all over again. I have a few minutes before my next meeting, and I’m more than happy to spend it chatting with him.

Silver: You usually pack epic snack boxes. I can’t believe you forgot.

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