Maybe she’d kept the art and shared the pricey space with a handful of friends?
Or robbed a bank?
Maybe she had a man with a more reliable paycheck?
Trevor frowned. Couldn’t be that or she’d never have agreed to join him, right?
He wondered why the idea of man up there in her bed bothered him. Maybe he didn’t like the idea that he was poaching on another man’s territory. Then again, the Piper he remembered was naïve, but passionate about her whatever she doodled in those books of hers. She’d been a sweet kid with big dreams and didn’t understand the ruthlessness of the world. Looking around the posh area, worry niggled at him that maybe his best friend’s baby sister was being taken advantage of by some rich, powerful guy filled with a world of lies and heartache, promising to help her make it big.
You mean like the way you’re taking advantage of her?
Where the hell did that come from? He’d never had an inner voice. He sure as hell didn’t need one now.
He’d never asked Ryden about her after he’d taken her to her prom. They’d gone to the dance, he had filled her punch glass and watched her nervously fiddle with the handle more than she actually drank it, spun her around on the dance floor, and escorted her home, safe and sound. After that, he’d gone to Europe for the summer and returned home just in time to start graduate school, their one date all but forgotten.
Okay, more like pushed out of his mind.
Truth was, she had gotten to him that night. He’d been caught off guard by the way she answered the door, covered from head to toe in shimmering gold fitted to curves he hadn’t realized she had. Her sweet laughter throughout the evening had reached right into him and held on tight.
He hadn’t trusted himself to spend more time with her. Before her prom, she had just been the girl next door, her best friend’s little sister. But from the moment he laid eyes on her, that comfort and familiarity vanished. The few times he saw her after, he couldn’t look her in the eye and he hoped she hadn’t noticed.
He hoped she didn’t think she’d done something wrong.
The best thing for him to do then was to run.
Far and fast.
She had been just shy of eighteen. He had just finished college, a year late, after his recovery from a broken knee set him a year behind, and eventually robbed him of his dreams of a pro football career.
His mind still hadn’t been right when he’d graduated college. He had no right to explore anything more with Piper when he hadn’t even managed to dispel the simmering anger at having his dream ripped away.
And she deserved to go and spread her wings.
Shaking off the memory, he found the windows of the sixth floor. Evidently, she had spread them far and wide, earning a hefty profit.
He smiled.
Go Piper.
Suddenly anxious to see her peaceful smile, he pulled out his cell and called her number.
“Hello?” She answered after the first ring.
He remembered that sweet voice. The honey-laced hesitancy that hinted at her shy innocence.
“Uh,” he cleared his throat. “Hi, Piper. It’s Trevor.” Who the hell was stuttering, because it sure as hell better not be him?
“Hi,” she said.
“Um, yeah, so, I’m here.”
“Okay. Give me just a second and I’ll be right down.”
“Sure, sure.”
He hung up the phone before he could possibly make more of an ass of himself.
A part of him had been worried that this whole plan would backfire. He knew what he had to do. He had to sell the story. He’d been selling people on shit for years. It was all just more of the same. Only now, he couldn’t do it alone. He had to rely on a partner.
A sweet partner.
A shy partner.
Someone who likely never lied a day in her life.
He knew what he was, what he had to do, to be, to make it in his world. The pang in his chest told him just how he felt about letting that hustle touch her.
The question was, why? Why did he care? Piper was supposed to be nothing more than his best friend’s little sister, but before he even managed to lay eyes on her again signs pummeled him that maybe she had been a whole lot more.
In a few minutes, she’d come down in one of those jumpers over her leggings and worn Converse sneakers, her hair knotted on top of her head and pinned with a No. 2 pencil. If they still made No. 2 pencils. Hell, if he knew.
He’d take one look at that fresh, unadorned face of hers, with her light freckles and rosy cheeks, and the guilt would eat him alive, having him call the whole thing off.
Maybe he could just hire someone. An escort to play the part. No sex involved, just sell the boss on the idea of her being the doting girlfriend with forever prospects.
The door clicked open and flung wide. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Wonder Woman had just burst out the door. Dark, wavy hair danced in the late summer breeze. Those chocolate strands so long that they swung with each step and peeked out from behind the woman’s narrow waist.
Damn, Piper’s neighbor was a goddamned magnificent woman. An hour glass times ten, he hadn’t seen curves like that on a woman in…well, ever.
She tugged at her suitcase, wrenching it over the threshold and straightened. She easily had to be over six feet tall. Of course, the stilettos hugging her feet added, he’d guess, about four inches, but she’d tower over most women just the same.
His eyes roamed from her fuck me shoes, up toned calves, to shapely thighs disappearing just a hair short of indecently-exposed under a snug dress that left little to the imagination.
Maybe when this was all over Piper would hook him up with an intro and they could see where it goes.
Or maybe not since Wonder Woman looked to be heading right his way.
“Well, hello,” he said, giving her his best smile, but careful to keep his eyes on her face. Blatantly ogling a woman never left a good impression, even if he did have the protection of sunglasses to conceal his interest.
He offered her a hand. “My name is Trevor.”
She smirked. “Yes, I know.”
That voice.
A hot rush shot through him.
It couldn’t be. He lifted his shades and his mouth fell open. “Piper?”
She cocked a hand on her hip and smirked. “Yes.”
“Piper Bradley?”
She slid her own shades to the top of her head revealing those golden eyes that squinted against the sun. “The one and only. You need to see my license or something?”
“Where the hell are your leggings, those sneakers, that damn pencil in your hair?”
She snorted.
Snorted!
“You expected the same clothes I wore in high school?”
Pushing his suit jacket back, he locked both hands on his hips, and gawked. “I expected you to be wearing something in the same zip code as the clothes you wore, yes.”
She shrugged. “I grew up.”
Yeah, she did. And blew his whole plan right out of the water. She flared his dick to life too, leaving him volleying between confusion and guilt.
He’d just eye-fucked his best friend’s little sister. That had to be against some sort of bro-code or something.
“This won’t work. You can’t go looking like, like…”
She narrowed her eyes, that funny little “fuck off” V forming between her eyebrows. “Like what?”