Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
"Are you having dirty thoughts about your father?"
"Well, you know me. Just staring into the mirror every time I touch myself," he says. "I look at him, and I see that sexy guy, only older."
"Oh my god." A laugh spills from my lips. "You did not just say that."
"I didn't mean it," he says.
"Please." I let my eyes meet his. They really are blue. A brilliant, gorgeous shade of blue. As dark and deep as the ocean. "We both know you only think of one person that way."
"Myself?" he asks.
I nod.
"Well, yeah, of course." He shoots me another wicked smile. "But I don't watch myself in the mirror."
"No?"
"No. Only on video."
This time, I let out a full-on belly laugh. "You do not."
"Is that a request for proof?" he asks. "I have copies."
Somehow, I manage to contain my laughter. "Yes, that's something I'd love to explain to my best friend. Oh, sure, I was watching your brother masturbate, but it was just because—"
"Because he's the sexiest guy I ever met," he finishes. "You can admit it."
No comment. "Do women actually want these videos?"
"They're for myself. Get with the bit, Cassie," he says.
Right. He's joking. Everything is a joke to him. "But that part is true?"
"Is that a request?"
Nope. This is not a road I will go down. But it's not different for him. "Daphne would kill you."
"I didn't say I'd honor your request."
"Right. This is a bit?" I ask.
He nods.
"You're never serious. Everything is a bit or it's beyond your concern." It's frustrating. And it's hard to work with this attitude. If he doesn't care about anything, I don't have any cards to play.
"You could try it." He reaches for his coffee. "It's fun."
Sure, it's fun to pretend nothing matters. But it's empty too. Maybe that's all he is now. A bunch of ink and muscle without a heart underneath.
I watch as Damon brings the mug to his lips.
He inhales and lets out a moan that can only mean yes, this is bliss. Then he tilts the mug back, sips, sighs. "That's good. Thanks."
"You're welcome."
"Is that it? You made me coffee."
"It's a gesture." I am trying. He could try one percent.
He doesn't. He keeps the nothing is serious tone. "A bribe?"
"If that's what works," I say.
"I don't hate the idea."
My stomach flutters. My veins surge. Yes. A chance to win this opportunity. Whatever it takes. "What do you want? I'll do anything."
His eyes pass over me. It's a quick thing, a habit maybe, but it's undeniable. He heard I'll fuck you for it. Or at least thought it.
I wouldn't.
But the mental images are far too appealing.
Ahem. "How about this?" I need to persuade him with things he wants. Things he doesn't already have. Deep down, the guy who wrote songs with me is still there, somewhere. "I'll play you for it."
"Huh?"
"I'll pick a song. We see who plays it better. If I win, you agree to the deal."
"If I win, you agree to my answer," he says. "No second chances. No asking Daphne to mediate."
That's better than any offer I'm going to get. Still, I need a yes. "Is your answer no?" I ask.
"I haven't decided yet," he says.
Okay. That works. This is going to persuade him. "Piano or guitar?"
"Piano."
Shit. He's a better pianist. But then he's a better guitarist too. I practice more. I practice harder. But I don't have the natural talent he does. "How do you want to judge?"
"We'll record the performances," he says. "Do a blind score."
"If we don't agree?"
"I wouldn't lie about music," he says. "Would you?"
Chapter Five
Cassie
After I pick a song, Damon and I take turns practicing. Fifteen minutes each. I take the first fifteen. Lose myself in the music while he goes to the backyard and listens to the song on his headphones.
Back to Black is an Amy Winehouse song about hitting bottom after a breakup. After things ended with Frederick, I listened to it a million times.
I thought that meant I could ace this. But my hands are shaky. My breath is strained. I can't hear the notes, much less play them, without a knot in my throat.
Finally, I get through the song with minimal mistakes. I stand, shrug off my worry, move to the backyard.
Thankfully, Damon is now fully dressed. Tragically, he looks just as good in jeans and a t-shirt. Especially when he stands and stretches his arms over his head, pulling the cotton fabric up his torso, showing off all those inches of taut abs.
The devil is handsome. Everyone knows that.
I force an easy smile. "Your turn."
He meets me at the glass door, slides his headphones off his neck, and slips them onto mine. "Your turn." His fingers brush my neck as he pulls his hand away.
My stomach flutters. My body buzzes. There's tenderness in his touch. But that's a lie. A trick to knock me off my axis.