My hands are begging me to rip it off, to strip her and take her right in my kitchen but I fight it.

“Looks good.” Bee’s breath ghosts across my pierced nipple.

“You did that on purpose.” I make myself open my eyes.

She shrugs. “I’m bad like that,” she says before she steps toward the sink and washes her hands. It means she’s planning to touch me.

She is so bad. I like that about her—like that she’s different from any woman I’ve ever known. The fact that she’s standing here right now proves that.

“It’s a little pink, but not too bad. We need to keep an eye on it, okay? Does it hurt?”

Her first finger traces around my nipple and my mouth waters to do the same thing to her. “Tender. Nothing too bad, though.”

“Make sure you clean it tonight. You’ve been using the antibacterial soap, right?”

The sexiness in her voice is gone and even though I shouldn’t, I want it back.

“Yep.” Stepping away from her, I lower my shirt, pick up my jacket, and set it on the counter. “Let’s go sit down.”

Bee grabs her water again and follows me to the living room. Before she makes it to the couch, I’m already starting to pick up the drawings, trying to put them away so she can’t see them. My whole body tenses when she grabs my arm.

“You don’t have to hide that from me. I do it, too, remember?”

The papers fall from my hand. “So show me something.”

There’s blank paper and pencils and erasers all over the table. Bee pulls off her sweatshirt and sets it on the couch before sitting on the floor. I go down next to her, both our backs against the couch as we sit around the small table.

“This is going to be quick, so no laughing.” Bee bends over, her arm and body trying to hide the paper from me as she starts drawing.

“What the hell is that? I thought you were showing me something?”

She looks over her shoulder at me and smiles. Really fucking smiles and I think it’s the first real, bone-deep smile I’ve seen from her. If I wasn’t already sitting down, she’d knock me on my ass.

“When I’m done, Scratch. Have some patience.”

It’s crazy how that name doesn’t bother me anymore. Trying to block out her smile, I shake my head. “Hell, maybe I shouldn’t be workin’ under you, if you don’t even trust your drawing skills.”

My teasing comment doesn’t even faze her. Bee looks at the paper, me, and then the paper again. The only sound in the room is her pencil scratching out whatever she’s drawing.

Quiet I can do, so I watch her while she works. Wondering what she’s doing and how in the hell we got here. That urge to pull away, to question what she’s doing here is still pulsing beneath my skin, but not strong enough for me to do something about it. Right now I’m watching the way she puts her blond hair behind her ear with her black-painted fingernails.

It hasn’t been more than a couple minutes, but I realize I’m watching this woman the whole time, studying her, and it’s like a jolt, pushing me to my feet. This is so fucking strange, being here with someone like this.

“I’ll be right back,” I mumble. Bee is so lost in whatever she’s drawing that I don’t even know if she heard me. Behind me, I close the bathroom door before splashing some water on my face as though that will make a difference.

My cell rings and I almost don’t pull it out of my pocket until I remember Laney got hurt and I haven’t even checked on her. Phone in hand, Laney’s name lights up on the screen.

My thumb lingers over ANSWER before I push it. “Hey.”

“Hey. How are you?” Her voice is soft.

Standing in my bathroom freaking out over nothing. “Okay. How are you feeling?”

“Good. Not really in much pain at all. I’m annoyed over this stupid neck brace. I want to take it off.”

“When do you go to the doctor?”

“Tomorrow, so I should be able to take it off then. I don’t see what a day would change.”

“Keep it on till then to be safe,” I tell her.

Laney laughs; then it trails off. “I wish you realized how big your heart is, Maddy.”

Is it, really? I want to ask her. Wouldn’t I have put aside worries about college and money to tell Mom what was happening with Dad? If I had, maybe she’d be better. Maybe Adrian’s son would be alive. “I fucked up… with Adrian after the accident. I shouldn’t have been such an asshole to him.”

“You should tell him that sometime.” She pauses for a second. “What’s going on? You sound different.”

I look up at myself in the mirror. “Nope. Still me. Listen, I gotta run. Let me know how things go after you see the doc, yeah?”

“Love you,” she whispers.

“You too.” I turn my phone all the way off before shoving it in my pocket. Unwilling to let myself hide out in my bathroom, I slide the door open and go out.

“Thought you ran away, Scratch.” Bee looks up at me from where she’s sitting on the floor.

“Had to get up and move around before I fell asleep waiting for you to finish.”

“Asshole.” There’s a smile on her face and then she lifts the piece of paper so I can see it.

It’s me.

A loud laugh shocks me by bursting out of my mouth. “What the fuck is that?” When I get to her, I pull the paper out of her hands.

“It’s you.”

“Need your eyes checked?” Her body touches mine when I go down beside her. It’s crazy how I can tell it’s me, but she’s obviously trying to be funny too. It’s a caricature of me, like the ones people draw at carnivals. My head’s huge, my hair floppy, and there’s a smile on my face that’s so big, I’m not sure I’ve ever had one like it. “And what the hell’s up with the bike?”

“You ride one!” She grabs the paper from me.

“Motorcycle. Not a bicycle.” Then I’m laughing again and it feels kind of good. There’s this rumble in my chest and usually the only vibrations inside me are anger or lust.

“Where’s my shirt?” Of course she had my piercing in there, too, but it’s oversized as well. “You hinting you want to see me without it again?”

“I’m sure any girl would like that and you know it.”

Her words send a sort of jolt through me because they’re so honest. She’s not shy about anything and she says whatever she feels, whatever she thinks. It’s crazy and the urge to ask her questions just to see what she’ll say hits me.

“Gimme that.” I pull the pencil out of her hand before grabbing a piece of paper. “Now go away.” Turning slightly, I bend over the table and wrap my arm around the paper so she can’t see.

Bee sits forward and grabs me, trying to pull me away from the table. “Lemme see.”

I nudge her back. “Don’t be scared, baby. I’ll draw you exactly how you look. I promise.”

A fist squeezes around my throat because of what came out of my mouth. I’ve never called someone baby in my life. Sure I was only giving her shit but—

“If you can. Let’s see how good your art skills really are.” The way she rolls right over it like it’s nothing makes me want to do the same thing. It should be that fucking easy, so I’m going to make it.

“You’ve never doubted any of my skills before, so why would you start now?”

She looks at me and rolls her eyes before picking up another pencil from the table. “We’ll see who has the best kills, Scratch.”

When she huddles over her paper to start drawing, I do the same. My fingers easily sketch her out without having to look at her. It’s as though she’s been embedded into my brain.

This is different. I make the diamond in her nose bigger, put a big tattoo gun in her hand, and make it so her tongue is out of her mouth.

“What the hell ever!” She peeks over my shoulder, but then Bee drops her head back and she laughs. It slips between the cracks and crevices until it finds its way inside me. I concentrate on the column of her throat, which I really fucking want my mouth on right now, but then she’s showing her newest picture of me and I’m laughing again.