Page 35 of Savannah Royals
I’m exhausted from the insane schedule I’ve been pulling lately. I’m sexually frustrated from the abrupt end to my game with Matthew tonight.I’m emotionally drained from having to compartmentalize so many twisted relationships, clutching secrets to my chest like daggers.
I shouldn’t have to justify anything to anyone. Not who I’m seeing or what I’m doing. None of it.
And because that’s how I feel right now—impulsive and vulnerable and positively aching with need—I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips very forcefully to Abe’s. Trying to prove I can have whatever I want, whenever I want it.
“Kat, no.” He pulls away. “You’re upset about something. I don’t know what, but this is not the solution.”
“It could be a very good solution, actually.” I give him my best puppy-dog eyes.
“Cute, but I don’t think so.”
I drop my arms and step back, rejected and dejected all over again. It’s worse the second time around.
“Hey.” He tips my chin up with his hand. “What’s going on with you tonight?”
“Nothing.”
“Kat, you haven’t kissed me twice in the same week…ever. What happened on Saturday should tide us over for months. That’s just how we operate. You know I love you, but you’re head over heels for my best friend. He would cut off my dick if I—”
“I know. I’m sorry.” My voice cracks. “I’m just frustrated from my evening, and I’m projecting it on you. I’m sorry,” I repeat.
“Sexuallyfrustrated?” Abe cocks an eyebrow. Once again, he’s too quick for his own good. “From DaMolin?”
I roll my eyes. “I didn’t say that. You did.”
“Are you telling me you made a pass at him tonight, and he saidno?” Abe laughs incredulously. “Wow, I must be losing my touch. I missed the fact he was queer during my two days of surveillance.”
“He’s not queer,” I say. “He’s a gentleman. And I didn’t make a pass at him. Please.”
“Sure.” Abe smiles, and I don’t miss the lines of hidden laughter etched onto his face.
“Can we just drop it?”
“Works for me.” He’s still smiling. Presumptuous.
“Just tell Paul and Tony about the job. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
CHAPTER NINE
Inthepitchdarkof night, a crescent moon is our only light. Astor Manor looms before us, cloaked in shadow. A most tantalizing temptation indeed.
“Kat, everything set? You remember the floorplan?” Paul asks.
“Yes, I’m ready.” I bounce on my toes.
“Time check.” He thrusts his tarnished gold pocket watch into the center of our circle. Abe, Tony, and I follow suit with our own timepieces, synchronizing down to the second. Tony, facetious as always, wears a watch on each arm.
When Paul is satisfied, he nods. “All right, it’s 10:14 p.m. now. In sixty seconds, Tony and I will move on the carriage house.”
“Stay safe,” I murmur.
Paul nods again, his eyes never leaving his watch.
“Three, two, one…get a wiggle on!”
We divide into two groups, moving in opposite directions through the shadows of Astor Manor’s neo-Roman garden. Paul and Tony head east to the carriage house, disappearing behind a curtain of Spanish moss. Abe and I, both clad in our trademark black, slink around a corner to huddle against the manor’s west wall, hearts pounding.
We chose the western perimeter as my takeoff point for one specific reason—the three-story stone fireplace flue. The exterior of the mansion is made of polished marble bricks, too expensively smooth for even myadroit feet to find purchase. But the home’s multiple fireplace flues are made of deep-cut, angular stones. Several of the chimneys jut out solely at the rooftop level, but this one very conveniently runs up the entirety of the manor’s exterior, ground to roof.
