I’m lucky to be standing upright to able to purchase anything at all.
She scans the card and hands it back to me. “Oh, wait. It’s rejecting it. Let me try again.”
“What?” I glance back to find an entire infantry of coeds smirking in my direction. I’m sure their credit cards are all working just fine. Correction, I’m sure Daddy’s credit cards are working just fine. I’ve witnessed these Whitney Briggs princesses American Expressing themselves all over Hollow Brook with wild abandon. I’m sure whatever it is they’re buying is a lot more expensive, and a lot less practical, than my measly purchase.
I steal a quick glance at the crowd of girls behind me, each of which is holding a few textbooks a piece, and a wave of guilt crashes over me.
“It’s not working.” The cashier hands back the card, and my face burns with embarrassment.
“Grab a bullhorn, why don’t you?” I hiss. “It has to work. It worked all last week when I bought my books.” I try shoving it at her once again, but she backs away from it like it’s an infectious disease.
“I’m sorry, but that line isn’t getting any smaller. People are getting pissed. Maybe you can come back?”
“I don’t care about those people. I need these notebooks now.” I cut a quick glance to the growing crowd and spot a tall, dark, tatted nightmare with his sweet little sis.
Gah ! I spin back around. “Look, just take this other stuff off.” I start pulling the scarves to the side and the cute polish in university themed colors, the sweats, the shoes—then quickly move the shoes back to the must-have pile and pull out the colored-pencils. What am I, three?
She begins the transaction over again to a choir of ah, come on!
I wince in lieu of facing the taunts of my peers. “Can’t you open another register?” I whisper loud enough for the dipstick standing behind her to hear.
“Only Loretta has the key.” She shrugs, picking up my scarf once again, and this time trying it on for size.
Beast.
“It’s still not working.” The girl with the pug nose, Loretta , tries to slide it over to me, and I slide it right back. “Do it again. This time just the books.”
“Is there a problem?” a dark, deeply delicious voice calls from behind, and as much as my body begs to freeze from horror, I’m heated to the bone at the sound of that smooth, velvet voice. Without bothering to try, I imagine him saying those magic words to me once again, and that tender spot between my thighs starts in on a quiver.
“Shit,” I hiss, stuffing my credit card back into my purse. “I’ll pick these things up later.” I glare at the girls behind the counter before zipping toward the door.
“Whoa.” Jet steps in front of me, effectively blocking the exit, and it’s almost impossible for me to meet up with his gaze. “Where’s the fire?”
“Between my legs if you must know.” I try to sidestep him, but he’s right there with me. “By the way, in the event you didn’t get the memo, we speak no evil if you get my drift.” I glance down to that unnatural bulge in his jeans in the event it’s not clear as wicked crystal.
He folds those massive arms across his chest, and I catch an array of shapes and sizes inked into his skin that I quickly memorize to sort out later.
“Evil, huh?” He huffs at the idea. “I thought you might be leaning more toward heavenly. Looks like I might need to invoke another round to convince you otherwise.”
“Right. Try that, and I’ll be invoking a restraining order.”
“Hey!” His sister pops up, a feminine, far prettier version of him, and her features smooth out a moment. “Who do you think you are, threatening him with a restraining order?”
Jet turns to her, and I take that as my cue to make a dash for the exit. No sooner do I hit the fresh air outside than I take a moment to catch my breath. That cologne of his is still wrapped around me like a coat. It’s the kind that sticks to your skin,
She scans the card and hands it back to me. “Oh, wait. It’s rejecting it. Let me try again.”
“What?” I glance back to find an entire infantry of coeds smirking in my direction. I’m sure their credit cards are all working just fine. Correction, I’m sure Daddy’s credit cards are working just fine. I’ve witnessed these Whitney Briggs princesses American Expressing themselves all over Hollow Brook with wild abandon. I’m sure whatever it is they’re buying is a lot more expensive, and a lot less practical, than my measly purchase.
I steal a quick glance at the crowd of girls behind me, each of which is holding a few textbooks a piece, and a wave of guilt crashes over me.
“It’s not working.” The cashier hands back the card, and my face burns with embarrassment.
“Grab a bullhorn, why don’t you?” I hiss. “It has to work. It worked all last week when I bought my books.” I try shoving it at her once again, but she backs away from it like it’s an infectious disease.
“I’m sorry, but that line isn’t getting any smaller. People are getting pissed. Maybe you can come back?”
“I don’t care about those people. I need these notebooks now.” I cut a quick glance to the growing crowd and spot a tall, dark, tatted nightmare with his sweet little sis.
Gah ! I spin back around. “Look, just take this other stuff off.” I start pulling the scarves to the side and the cute polish in university themed colors, the sweats, the shoes—then quickly move the shoes back to the must-have pile and pull out the colored-pencils. What am I, three?
She begins the transaction over again to a choir of ah, come on!
I wince in lieu of facing the taunts of my peers. “Can’t you open another register?” I whisper loud enough for the dipstick standing behind her to hear.
“Only Loretta has the key.” She shrugs, picking up my scarf once again, and this time trying it on for size.
Beast.
“It’s still not working.” The girl with the pug nose, Loretta , tries to slide it over to me, and I slide it right back. “Do it again. This time just the books.”
“Is there a problem?” a dark, deeply delicious voice calls from behind, and as much as my body begs to freeze from horror, I’m heated to the bone at the sound of that smooth, velvet voice. Without bothering to try, I imagine him saying those magic words to me once again, and that tender spot between my thighs starts in on a quiver.
“Shit,” I hiss, stuffing my credit card back into my purse. “I’ll pick these things up later.” I glare at the girls behind the counter before zipping toward the door.
“Whoa.” Jet steps in front of me, effectively blocking the exit, and it’s almost impossible for me to meet up with his gaze. “Where’s the fire?”
“Between my legs if you must know.” I try to sidestep him, but he’s right there with me. “By the way, in the event you didn’t get the memo, we speak no evil if you get my drift.” I glance down to that unnatural bulge in his jeans in the event it’s not clear as wicked crystal.
He folds those massive arms across his chest, and I catch an array of shapes and sizes inked into his skin that I quickly memorize to sort out later.
“Evil, huh?” He huffs at the idea. “I thought you might be leaning more toward heavenly. Looks like I might need to invoke another round to convince you otherwise.”
“Right. Try that, and I’ll be invoking a restraining order.”
“Hey!” His sister pops up, a feminine, far prettier version of him, and her features smooth out a moment. “Who do you think you are, threatening him with a restraining order?”
Jet turns to her, and I take that as my cue to make a dash for the exit. No sooner do I hit the fresh air outside than I take a moment to catch my breath. That cologne of his is still wrapped around me like a coat. It’s the kind that sticks to your skin,
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