Page 122 of Future Like This

“Kenz?” Hyla calls, and the door shuts behind her.

I stick my head out of the bedroom. “Hey. Just grabbing my bag.”

“Perfect timing.”

I yank my bag off the bed and walk into the open living and kitchen area, and when I do, I stop short because Hyla is standing there in cut-off shorts, a loose red tank top, and a lightweight flannel shirt that’s slipping off her shoulders. She went for an even lower effort sexy than me because she’s not wearing a bra.

She’s the perfect mix of cute and sexy, and she absolutely knows it. She’s got this piercing smirk on her face, and she looks like every one of my dreams. And also fuckable. Drop dead sexy fuckable.

“You look hot too,” she says, smile growing.

I squint, looking back and forth, wondering if I said that out loud.

“You didn’t have to say anything.” She sways over to me. “It’s all in your eyes.”

And people say I’m a mind reader.

“You’re making me a little crazy,” I admit.

She tilts her head and leans in, then kisses my cheek rather than my waiting lips. “Good.” Her eyes are gleaming with mischief as she steps back. “Ready to go?”

“Yep. Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“Nope.” Then she pulls a silky blindfold from her back pocket. “In fact, I’m going to need you to wear this.” She twirls her finger, telling me to spin around.

I shut my eyes and turn around, and then the soft, cool fabric slides over my eyelids.

“Are we going somewhere kinky?”

“Are you interested in that, Angel? We never explored much before, but I’m open to whatever you want to try.” She spins me back around, then leans in close, lips brushing my ear. “But not tonight. Tonight is a different kind of surprise.”

I hear rustling and a little grunt, and I’m assuming she picked up my bag.

Taking my hand, she leads me forward and out of the apartment. That’s when it dawns on me, we still have a flight of stairs to go down.

“Do you need me to take this off?” I ask.

She wraps her hands around my forearms. “Nope. I’ve got you. Do you trust me?”

The question hangs there. Trust is a complicated thing with Hyla, especially after all we’ve been through. But right now, like this, I do.

“I trust you.”

“Then let’s go.”

She guides me down the stairs and into the car. We’re on the road for about ten minutes—there are curves and inclines—but I have no idea where we are when I hear the unmistakable sound of gravel under tires.

The car comes to a stop and I reach to unclick my seatbelt.

“Can I take the blindfold off now?”

“Not yet. Hold on.”

Her door opens and shuts, and a moment later, mine opens too. She finds my hands again, holding them both as she helps me out of the car.

“Okay, a few more steps.” She guides me a few feet more, then stops and adjusts my positioning.

I hear her deep inhale and slow exhale. Then finally…

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