Page 24 of The Risk

“Do you mind getting me a glass? I don’t know where anything is.” She licks her lips. “I’m thirsty.”

She’s thirsty, all right.

I open the cupboard, grab a drinking glass, and hold it out. Her fingertips brush my knuckles suggestively as she accepts it. “Thank you.”

“No prob.” I withdraw my hand. “You look cold,” I say with a pointed glance to her nipples.

“Actually, I’m feeling really hot right now.” She giggles. “And you’re looking it.”

“Looking what?”

“Hot.”

I try not to raise my eyebrows. This chick is bold. Too bold, considering whom she came to see tonight. “Weren’t you just with my roommate?” I nod toward the corridor.

“Yeah? So?”

“So you probably shouldn’t be telling some other guy he’s hot.”

“Brooks already knows what I think about you.”

“Does he.” An itchy feeling crawls up my spine. I don’t like the idea of people discussing me. And I seriously hope I’m not part of whatever kinky games the two of them play behind closed doors.

She pours herself a glass of water from the filtered dispenser in the fridge. Then she stands there and drinks, topless, no care in the world. She’s got a gorgeous body, but something about her rubs methe wrong way. It’s not the brazen attitude. Ilikeoutspoken girls. Girls who bust my balls. Like Brenna Jensen—she’s the very definition of bold, and she doesn’t make me want to sprint out of the room.

This girl, on the other hand…

“What’s your name?” I ask warily. I don’t know where the distrust in my gut is coming from, but her presence is unnerving me.

“Kayla.” She takes another long sip, propping one hip against the granite counter. She’s completely unfazed by the fact that she’s wearing teeny panties and nothing else. “We met before,” she tells me.

“Did we?”

Visible displeasure darkens her eyes. Yeah, I don’t imagine this is a girl who likes being forgotten. But I genuinely have no recollection of meeting her, ever.

“Yes. At Nash Maynard’s party?”

“You go to Harvard?”

“No. We talked about that at the party, remember?” she says tightly. “I’m at Boston University?”

I draw a blank. There’s a black hole in my memory where this alleged interaction is supposed to be.

“Babe,” a sleepy voice drifts from the hallway. “Come back to bed. I’m horny.”

I give her a dry smile. “You’re being summoned.”

She grins back. “Your roomie’s insatiable.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I say with a shrug.

“No?” She finishes her water and places the glass in the sink. Curiosity gleams in her expression as she studies my face. “You and Brooks have never…?” She lets the question hang.

“Nah. I don’t swing that way.”

She tilts her head thoughtfully. “What if there’s a girl in the middle to act as a buffer?”

Annnd we’re done here. It’s too late and I’m too tired to be discussing threesomes with a strange girl in my kitchen. “I don’t do that either,” I mutter on my way past her.

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