Exposed (VIP, #4)

by Kristen Callihan

Her heels strike a click-click, clickety-click on the pavement. I hear that rhythm in my dreams sometimes. She’ll never know it, but that rhythm is the bass line for “Forget You.” No one will ever know that but me, though. A man has to keep some things to himself.

Overheated, I draw in a deep breath. Mistake. Brenna’s perfume tickles my nose. She doesn’t have a signature scent but wears different ones for different moods. Unfortunately, I know them all. Over the years, I’ve figured out what mood she’s in depending on what fragrance she chooses. Tonight’s scent smells of ripe peaches drenched in honey, dark rum, and good tobacco.

“Oh,” he says as if remembering something. “And you wear that vanilla and caramel cookie scent when dealing with Flo. Until the day it’s over, when you switch to celebratory lemon cake perfume. Both of which, by the way, drive me absolutely frantic to take a bite out of you.”

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he says, almost lightly, like he’s not slicing into my heart. “I’ve spent my entire adult life either wanting you or wanting to forget you.”