Page 102 of Fire

“With you?” I swear I can hear the smile in her voice. “Always.”

I start to feel nervous just as the Uber makes the final turn into the neighborhood. Up until now, I’ve been able to keep my chill.Zara and I talked about my new agent, and she congratulated me on all the bands that want me to sign with them.

But now I’ve lost every ounce of chill. Zero fucking chill.

What if she doesn’t like it?

What if my sister trashed the place?

What if my fears about the cheese are legit, and it really is a hazmat situation in there?

Once again, the last one is a bit of a stretch, but I can’t help it.

Aside from my sisters and my mom, I’ve never brought a woman to my house.

Even when Zander lived here, that had been our one rule: no hookups in the house. We’d saved forever to afford the down payment on this place, and when we finally got the keys, we wanted it all to ourselves.

In hindsight, that rule worked to our advantage when Zander’s face was splashed on the cover of every magazine and newspaper in the country. Our home remained private, and I never had to stress about any of his former one-nighters showing up at my door.

When our Uber driver pulls into the driveway, I let out a small sigh of relief. The lawn is mowed, the house is still standing, and there aren’t any packages at the front door, so I know my sister has been doing her job.

I turn toward Zara to gauge her reaction, and as soon as I do, all the insecurity and worry melt away. She’s beaming from ear to ear as she takes it all in. From the outside, it’s a pretty cookie-cutter California ranch-style home. But from the way she’s looking at it, you would think it’s a goddamn mansion.

“We all good?” our Uber driver asks.

“Yup.” I nod, realizing we’re both taking quite a while to leave his car. “Thanks, man.”

“No problem.”

Zara grabs her small handbag and exits the back seat. I walk around the front of the car, and together we head down the walkway to the front door. I pull out my keys and twist the lock. It’s something I used to do several times a day, and now it feels almost foreign.

It’s crazy how quickly our lives can change. I steal a glance at Zara.In more ways than one…

I push open the door and let her go first.

Please don’t smell. Please don’t smell.

I walk in behind her and—oh thank fuck.No funky cheese smell. Just the same earthy fragrance it always has, thanks to the fancy plug-in thing Presley bought me for Christmas.

“I should have suggested you take me here that first night we hooked up.” She jokes, looking around the living room. “You have actual furniture. I barely had a bed in the middle of all those boxes.”

I stand next to her, nuzzling into the curve of her collarbone. She’s wearing a tan sleeveless dress today with sandals. Her hair is secured with one of those claw clips, and I swear she’s not wearing a bra just to drive me crazy. “I don’t know…I think we made do,” I tease. “Besides, I don’t take women here.”

She turns, her brown eyes meeting mine. “But I’m here. Am I not considered a woman anymore?”

“No.” I turn her to face me, tucking a tendril of hair behind her ear. She reaches behind her and removes the clip from her hair, and it falls like a curtain around her shoulders. Gorgeous. “Now, you’re just mine. And I wanted you here because I wanted to see you in my space. In my house.”

She looks up at me, biting her bottom lip. My cock twitches in approval. “And now that you have me here, what are you going to do with me?”

Fucking hell.“Well, I was going to offer you a glass of water.”

“I’m not thirsty.”

“Crackers?”

She smirks. “Not hungry, Hendrix.”

“Do you want a tour?” I shift, trying to tame the raging erection she’s causing.