Page 4 of Crazy Love

My bright,redG-string.

Well played, Bonetti.

2

ANTHONY

The cabof my truck isn’t big enough to contain the thrumming electricity between the two of us. We’ve been locked inside for a couple of minutes and every bone in my body screams at the tension.

Kali must be feeling the same, because she keeps leaning across from the passenger seat, squeezing her tits together and doing her best to break me.

“It’s not going to work, Red,” I scoff.

It so will work.I’m about two seconds away from pulling this car to the roadside and bending her over the back seat.

“Party pooper.” She sticks her tongue out before settling into her seat. I let out a quiet, deliberate breath to calm my racing heart as we continue the scenic drive to her house.

The ease at which we’ve settled into a rhythm mere hours after I showed up on her doorstep has me buzzing. As I suspected from the moment we met, she’s self-assured and confident, and doesn’t shy away from flirtation or conversation. She’s funny. She gets my sense of humour. It’s the first time I’ve felt this relaxed around a woman in years. She’s also sexy as hell, like an Amazonian warrior with long dark-skinned legs and toned muscles rivalling a top-tier athlete.

“If you won’t indulge me, tell me a story instead,” she says, resting her elbow on the middle console. “We’re trapped in a car for the next six minutes. Make it worth my while. Gimme something. How about a harsh truth? A dark secret? Those are always fun.”

A flurry of thoughts race through my brain. The number of harsh truths and dark secrets pent up in my mind would be enough to bowl anyone over. The foster system, the number of brawls I’ve started and ended, my days as an addict, jail-time, Chloe …

I shake my head to clear it. Telling Hazel about my past had been easy. I’ve made solid progress at meetings and therapy. I own my mistakes and my past. The shame is part and parcel, but I’ve managed to spin a lot of it around thanks to the help of others.

But something stops me from spilling everything now.

“Right,” she says after I remain silent for an embarrassingly long time. “How about I ask questions and you decide if you want to answer them or not?”

“Sure.” I adjust my white-knuckled fists on the steering wheel. Kali notices but doesn’t say anything.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

I bark out a laugh of surprise and her face lights up. “Well, that was unexpected and obviously the answer is red.” I wink at her, and she rolls her eyes.

“Favourite song?”

“Break Stuffby Limp Bizkit.”

A snort escapes her nose. “Figures. Favourite subject at school?”

“Hmm. Does bashing people at lunch time count?”

“Were you that bad?” she asks.

“I was a dick,” I admit, slowing to a stop at a set of lights. “I couldn’t concentrate at school. Used to have a crazy temper.”

“You don’t strike me as the type to have a temper.”

“I’ve mellowed in my adult years,” I reply. Prison time, trauma, therapy and Narcotics Anonymous could either send one over the edge or calm a man to the point of beingtooZen. I’ll take the latter any day of the week.

“Are you excited about your apprenticeship?” she asks.

I glance at her before responding. She’s turned in the passenger seat to face me, one of her legs curled underneath her as she waits for my answer. Streetlights flicker over her body as we make our way towards her house, and when I catch her gaze, she gives me a bright smile.

“Yeah, I am.” It’s a battle to focus on the road ahead instead of her. “I may be one of the oldest apprentices known to man, but it’ll be nice to work with my hands. As much as I enjoyed playing Patty’s bodyguard and getting involved in undercover police work, carpentry is more my scene.”

“As a true crime fan, I’m jealous you got to be involved in a real investigation,” Kali says. “But how on Earth were you evenallowedin a real investigation?”

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