Page 11 of One Spicy Summer

“Because he’s like your brother, and Iknowyou’ve seen that beefcake in the buff.”

“I wish I could bleach my eyes and wipe my memory.”

“Girl, whatever. Your brothers arefine.” She gives me a sly look. “Especially Rygaard.”

“Ugh, I’m gonna throw up.”

“You started it.”

“You’re most welcome.” I smirk. But then I notice her giving methatlook. “What?” I ask.

“Have you?” Still on that?

“I’ve seen his chest,” I mumble. Agatha’s relentless. She’s always been this way, nosy with zero boundaries. “I canfeelyou staring.”

“Good. Be afraid.” She grins. “Beveryafraid.”

The barista calls our names. “I’ll grab them,” she says, sauntering off.

She can be exhausting… But I wouldn’t trade her for anything.

When she returns, she hands me my drink and fixes me with that look again. “So. You’ve had a crush since thirteen. Now that you’ve grown into yourself, you’re telling me Ry hasn’tnoticed?”

What happened Saturday night definitely says otherwise.

That crush came outta nowhere. One day, I looked up during a game night, andbam, boy next door turned into aman.

Deep voice, chiseled pecs, messy hair. I wasgone.

“Hello?” Agatha snaps her fingers. “You’re zoning again.”

“Fine!” I blurt. “I wore that barely-there outfiton purpose.I knew Rafe wouldn’t come to drag me out of the theater, so Ry would. Iwantedhim to see me. I wanted him toknow.And he noticed.”

Her eyes light up. “Betch!What did he do?”

“Told me I looked good enough to eat. Then he caged me against the wall.” My lips curl at the memory.

“That smirk… what did youdo?”

I sip my coffee, trying to play it cool. “I licked my lips, turned around, flicked my hair in his face, and backed into him… a little.”

“Betchhhh!” she gasps. “He wants you.”

“One moment doesn’t prove anything.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” she says smugly.

We sip the rest of our drinks, chatting about plans for the new year before heading home.

“Bye, girl. Thanks for today,” I say as she speeds off like a maniac.

I catch a familiar scent in the air, warm leather and amber. Rygaard’s cologne. But I’m too wiped to care. I head upstairs, shower, and knock out. Shopping may not be cardio, but it’sexhausting.

Chapter Six

Rygaard

The second she breezes past the living room, the air shifts, like static clinging to my skin, electric and alive. And then I catch her scent.Sweet. Addictive. Dangerous.

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