Rihanna stops, The Hills starts automatically, and I’m a panting mess on the floor, star-fishing while I attempt to cool down. Kade, in his navy-blue top and shorts, stops at my feet. His dark hair is messy, hanging over his forehead; a tattoo curls up from his collarbone, and his arms look stronger than before. Kade’s blue eyes are burning into me. “What?” I snap, still panting as The Hills get into the chorus. “Base is going to message you.”
