“Forget about what? Our third date?” She gasps. Climbing me like a fucking jungle gym, she wraps her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck. It’s more playful than sexual. “Nice try. But no. How many times do I have to tell you, Big Man? This is happening.”

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Devin

Jessie has yet to balk at anything I’ve thrown at her. Nothing has managed to chase the determined pixie away. I’m getting desperate. The quicker I get her out of my life, the better. This is date number three and I’m counting on it to put the final nail in the coffin of Jessie’s infatuation with the idea of us. Barbie and the bad boy. Not going to happen. I’m not going to let myself get wrapped up in something I know has no future.

I side-eye her sitting across the car from me. Her mask of perpetual cheerfulness slips as I pull up to the empty, dark strip mall. The solitary lamp post in the middle of the parking lot manages to highlight the shadiness of this joint. Half the stores are closed, shuttered up with graffiti-covered plywood. The other half advertise payday loans and massages with happy endings. This is my old neighborhood, where I grew up. Dirty. Seedy. Tattered. Abandoned.

“Are we getting matching tattoos?” She leans towards me on the bench seat, teasing me with those ruby lips.

I lick my lips, picturing marking her virgin skin. My name scrawled across her thighs. My initials carved into her heart. The idea of branding her, claiming her, is tempting.

I bite the inside of my mouth and turn my head to hide the smile. The damn thing keeps popping up around her. It’s not the only thing popping up either. One whiff of her unique scent or a glimpse of those tan curves and I’m desperate to touch her. It’s a compulsion.

I shake my head. “Not unless you want hepatitis.”

She crinkles her nose. “Hard pass.”

I climb out of the car and circle around to the trunk. Her soft footsteps follow me. I hand Jessie two putters and two golf balls. She lights up at the familiar mini-golf paraphernalia. When I pull out the flashlight and bolt cutters, she recoils with a stifled gulp. I let out a dark chuckle. This is going to be fun.

I grab her hand and pull her down a small alley between two buildings. I make a show of it, looking around and hunching forward as I slide the bolt cutters onto the fresh padlock. She’s staring at the twisting metal, eyes wide.

“Keep a lookout,” I whisper hiss at her.

She whips around, with a gasp. “Shit. Sorry.”