Page 9 of Let it Sizzle (Playing with Fire #3)

Levi

I can’t get Serena out of my head.

It’s been two weeks since that night. We haven’t seen each other for a few days.

But I can still taste her on my tongue. Still feel the way her soft curves molded against me like they were made to fit nowhere else but my hands.

Everything about her—her shyness, her fire, her stubborn little chin when she thinks she’s not beautiful enough—clings to me like a second skin I’ll never be able to shed.

We’ve also been sneaking around like naughty teenagers because no one can know what is going on until we both have the courage to tell Byron.

I guess we just prefer being in the perfect bubble of bliss for now.

I’m halfway through scrubbing down the engine bay when Maddox wanders over, tossing a rag at my head like the overgrown child he is. I catch it without looking.

"You look like you got laid," he says, grinning. "And I mean that in the most jealous way possible."

"Shut the hell up," I mutter, but I’m already smiling. I can’t help it.

He elbows me. "So, Chief. You locking that down or what?"

"None of your business," I shoot back, but my mind’s already racing ahead, thinking about Serena in my bed, naked and sleepy, her wild hair tangled around my pillow like a goddamn crown.

Maddox laughs, clearly not offended. "Whatever, man. Man.”

“Is that all you wanted to talk to me about?” I ask, knowing full well that once Maddox starts thinking about sex, his mind needs to be corralled back to the topic at hand.

“Oh, yeah, I was gonna tell you graphic designer who was supposed to do the poster for the fundraiser can’t do it anymore. And now Zeke wants to do it on canvas. I was thinking we should ask Serena. Byron mentioned she’s brilliant.”

I wipe my hands and nod. “Yeah, I actually already did. I got the feeling the designer was going to flake and Serena said she’d sketch something up this week."

"Good," Maddox says, tossing another rag into the bucket. "Because if we leave it up to Zeke again, we’re gonna end up with another poster that looks like a lost dog ad."

I grunt out a laugh and go back to scrubbing. But the weight pressing on my ribs won’t lift. Not even a little.

Because as much as I want to act like everything’s normal, there’s one massive problem hanging over my head—and it’s about six foot three and answers to the name Byron Summers.

I know I need to tell him.

I know it’s only a matter of time before he figures it out anyway.

Hell, Byron isn’t stupid. Protective and stubborn as hell, sure, but not blind.

Sooner or later, he’s going to see it. The way Serena’s eyes soften when she looks at me.

The way I can’t keep my hands off her when she’s close enough to touch.

I tell myself I’ll do it after the fundraiser.

I’ll sit him down, man to man. I’ll tell him I’m in love with his sister. That it’s not some fling. That I’m not going anywhere. One more date, I promise myself.

Just one more night with her before everything changes.

The station door bangs open, and speak of the damn devil—Byron storms inside, looking like he’s ready to light something on fire with his bare hands.

I glance up, tossing the rag aside. "What’s got your panties in a twist?"

Byron snorts. "Went to the diner for lunch. Some out-of-towner had the balls to hit on Serena."

Every muscle in my body locks tight.

"Yeah?" I keep my voice casual, but my hands fist at my sides.

"Yeah," Byron grunts. "Asshole wouldn’t leave her alone. Had to step in before it got ugly."

I clench my teeth so hard my jaw aches. The idea of any man looking at her the way only I’m allowed to look at her makes a dangerous kind of fury rise up in my chest.

Byron doesn’t notice. He’s too busy pacing, too busy ranting like the overprotective big brother he’s always been.

"I just..." He scrubs a hand over his face. "I don’t want her to fall into another mess again, you know? She’s been through enough. That prick in the city did a number on her, and it took her a while to find her footing again. She’s not ready for more shit."

"I know," I say, and my voice is rougher than I mean for it to be.

Byron glances at me, eyes narrowing. "You get it, right? I just want her to have a real chance. A fresh start. No distractions. No drama."

I swallow hard. The guilt tastes sharp and bitter on my tongue.

"Of course," I lie.

Because if Byron ever finds out that I am the biggest goddamn distraction she’s ever had, he’s going to knock my teeth out.

Byron claps me on the back, rough and brotherly. "Knew I could talk to you and you would understand, man. Samira thinks I’m crazy. I just think they don’t understand it’s my job to protect them."

I nod, but it feels like glass grinding in my chest. Because the truth is, I already crossed a line.

I didn’t just touch his sister. I made her mine.

And no matter how many promises I make to myself about waiting, about doing this the right way, there’s a bone-deep, primal part of me that already knows:

I’ll never let her go.