Page 70 of Tempt

Her brows rise up her face behind her glasses. He nods.

She takes his desk and he rises. I think he’s leaving, but he’s looking around for another spot.

On impulse, I hit my brother’s contact as I walk home.

“Hey.” Clay answers on the second ring. “Got your message about the bracelet. We’re on it.”

“Thanks, but that’s not why I’m calling. Would you do me a favor?” I lay out Adam’s request.

“Weird, but okay. I figured you might ask for something for yourself.”

“I don’t need anything from you.”

He chuckles.

“What?!” I demand.

“Remember when you were seven or eight? The first flash of lightning, you’d crawl into my room. Guess you couldn’t sleep and you didn’t want to lie awake with yourself for company. But one day, you just stopped. Never did it again.”

Irritation rises up.

“I didn’t stop because I was proud, Clay. I stopped because you went to basketball camp for the summer and left me at home.”

“Huh. I forgot about that.”

I wanted to see my big brother, but he had other things to do. Things that didn’t involve me.

We finish our conversation and I let myself into the house.

I take a shower and wash my hair, wrapping myself in a robe.

When I emerge, there’s music coming from down the hall. The light in the crack of the office doorway says Daniel’s inside.

It creaks open and I see him sitting in his desk chair, a guitar in his lap.

He’s stripped off the sweater and he’s wearing only a white T-shirt. His usually perfect hair is sticking up from pulling on it.

He plays a song that’s hauntingly familiar, his fingers moving capably across the strings.

I knew he played—I heard him at Sawyer’s BBQ last year—but haven’t seen him pick up a guitar since I moved in.

“I figured you were going to work in your campus office, but now I see why you didn’t.”

Daniel’s gaze snaps to meet mine, but not before he does a quick scan of my bare feet, my fluffy robe, my hair piled up on my head.

“I needed a break.” He straightens in his chair, the music ending abruptly. “How was your evening?”

“Productive.”Not. “You?”

“Same.”

I nod.

“Don’t let me stop you.”

I step into his office, scanning the shelves opposite his desk.

He resumes where he left off, and after a moment, I hum along.

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