Page 98 of The Heart Breaker

She blinks. “What? Where?”

I pull the concert tickets from my pocket and hold them up. “You wanted to see them, right?”

Her brows pull together, her mouth parting as she looks down at the tickets, then back at me. “How…” She shakes her head. “How did you get these?”

I lift a shoulder. “Found them in the trash,” I lie. “Guess whoever bought them came to their senses and realized the band sucks.”

She narrows her eyes. “Seriously. How did you get them?”

“You wanna go or not, Prescott?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe. “My generosity only lasts for so long.”

She stares at me for a while, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth while she thinks. She glances back into the apartment, and I don’t even have time to react she reaches out, fists her hand in the front of my shirt, and yanks me inside.

She shuts the door the second I’m inside, then grabs my wrist and drags me toward her bedroom.

I let her—mostly because I like the feel of her hands on me.

She pushes her bedroom door open and pulls me inside, turning to glare at me. “You could’ve texted instead of just showing up at my door. Ryan and Isabella are literally down the hall.”

I shrug and let my gaze drift around her room, landing on the canvas I saw last time.

Only now there’s more to it. It’s darker and more detailed.

It’s fucking incredible.

My mouth pulls into a smile before I can stop it. I’m stupidly proud of the fact that I’m the first person walking around with an Aurora Prescott original on his body. I got the grim reaper hand tattooed a few days ago, and every time I catch sight of it in the mirror, I end up staring at it way longer than I should.

She opens her closet and starts digging through hangers, tossing piece after piece onto the bed.

Jesus Christ.

How many clothes does she have?

“How long is this going to take?” I ask, dropping onto the edge of her bed.

“Longer if you keep complaining.” She throws a look at me over her shoulder, then points toward the wall. “Turn around.”

I lift a brow. “Seriously?”

Her cheeks go pink. “Yes.”

“I’ve seen you naked, Prescott,” I remind her. “More than once. I’ve licked every inch of your body.”

That only makes her blush harder. “This is different,” she says and then does a little gesture with her finger. “Turn, please.”

I roll my eyes and turn, staring at the posters on her wall. “Happy?”

“No peeking.”

I let out a scoff. “I’m not some fifteen-year-old virgin, Prescott. You really think I need to peek?”

“I think you’re annoying.”

I huff out another laugh and keep my eyes on the posters since apparently, I’ve been banned from looking at her. Behind me, I hear fabric shifting, drawers opening, hangers knocking together, and all I can think is… what the hell is happening between us?

I know what she sounds like when she comes. I know what she tastes like. I know exactly how she looks with my hand around her throat and her thighs spread for me.

But lately, I find myself wanting to know other things. Like if she makes any sounds in her sleep. What she looks like first thing in the morning. What it would feel like to kiss her.