Page 68 of Perfume Girl

She stared at my mouth as she ran her tongue over her lips. I could handle a flirty woman. Hell,I was a goddamned expert at emotionally jousting with enticing sirens.

She swallowed hard. “There’s nothing to see back there.”

“Still.”

Raquel gave me a relenting look and strolled elegantly through a small hallway that led to another room. Her curves were deadly and her ass ridiculously squeezable.

She’s out of bounds.

I followed her through another doorway and we stepped into a clinical setting. The chrome countertops were covered with small glass bottles and half-heartedly packed boxes. A desk had papers scattered across it.

I leaned back against the central island. “So this is where the magic happens?”

“Happened.”

“You’re ready to let it go?”

She held my gaze. “There’s always a silver lining.”

“What happened to your scale?”

“I’m sorry?”

I pointed to the broken scale on the floor. “You probably could have sold it.”

Her gaze locked on mine. “It’s all part of the dismantling.”

I gestured toward the stairs. “Where does that lead?”

An expression of panic crossed her face. “Storage.”

I sprang forward and headed up the stairs.

“Wait!” she called after me.

Pausing, I glanced back at her.

“Can we just go?” Her hand tightened around the banister. “I’m starving.”

“I’ve booked us a table at Oceana on the Water. It’s worth the wait.” My grin widened and I sprinted upstairs.

I felt around for a switch and flicked on the light, seeing the stark, open floor plan of the room. My smile faded.

Raquel caught up to me, slamming against my back.

I spun around. “Tell me you’re not living here?”

But I already knew the answer. A mattress lay on the floor in the corner covered by a blue duvet. It was a devastating view, and from the way she cowered at the top of the stairs she hadn’t planned on me seeing it.

“Don’t I pay you enough?” I muttered.

“Pinching pennies,” she stuttered out. “I can’t afford rent on an apartment as well as here. It’s temporary…obviously.”

I eased away from her and strolled toward the small fridge in the far corner. I knelt and opened the door, peering in at a carton of skimmed milk, a bottle of Pepsi, and some leftover sushi. I stared at her questioningly.

“I can survive roughing it for awhile.” She made it sound like a joke.

“Why are you saving your money if you’re letting this place go?” I pushed to my feet.