Page 59 of The Darkest Note

But there’s a draw to him, unadulterated and magnetic. The more I want to resist, the harder it is to let go.

He feels the moment I melt because his lips soften above mine, sliding more than attacking. It’s so unexpected—that tenderness. A man as big and dark as Dutch shouldn’t be capable of such a thing.

But he keeps kissing me like I’m precious and my knees buckle. I slide my hands up his arms, tracing a path over the lines covering his muscular biceps. My fingers thread in his hair and it is every bit as soft and thick as I’d imagined.

He grunts when my nails make their first pass over his scalp and I do it again. His hold on my head tightens in a way that’s both strangely sweet and possessive.

I can’t help the strangled little sound that escapes my throat when his tongue runs over the seam of my lips.

For a second, the world is full of possibilities.

Then I remember who I’m making out with and my senses return to me, piercing through the bizarrely tenuous energy that sizzles in every interaction I have with Dutch.

I wedge my hands between my body and his massive chest and shove. I’m not strong enough to move him, but with this version of me, he’s extra respectful.

Dutch eases back, staring at me through hooded eyes.

I’m overrun with emotions—anger, desire, regret, frustration. There’s shame too and with it, the anger surges. On instinct, I lift my hand and smack him hard across the face.

The sound of skin meeting skin reverberates in the quiet.

Dutch’s head flies to the side.

My chest heaving, I raise my hand as if I’ll slap him again and then I drop the arm. I’m insane.He’sinsane. And this shouldn’t have happened, but the least I can do is get an answer.

“You came in here looking for some girl and now you’re kissing me?” I accuse in my husky voice.

Dutch’s jaw works. He’s still staring at the side, his face turning a strange shade of red.

I stab a finger in his chest. “Why were you here tonight? Why were you looking for Cadence?”

“Is it that important to hear the answer?” he growls.

I’m trembling with vehemence. “Yes.”

He studies me for a long moment and steps back. When he opens his mouth, Iknowthe answer to the madness he and his brothers have been laying on me will finally be revealed.

But there’s a knock on the door.

“Are we interrupting?” Zane asks.

I gasp and turn away from the brothers. Dutch may not recognize me, but if I’m under Finn’s sharp gaze and Zane’s experienced eyes, they might start to pin the pieces together.

“Yeah,” Dutch growls.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and realize that my wig wasn’t completely in place. There’s a strand of my brown hair peeking from underneath it.

Panicked, I lower my head and brush past the boys.

Dutch grabs my hand. “Wait, where are you going?”

“I have another gig,” I lie.

“Stay.”

I shake him off, making sure to keep my face lowered. “If you want to talk, meet me at the Crossroads Cafe this Saturday.”

Dutch’s stare lingers on me when I hurry down the hallway.