Page 14 of Reckless Hearts

But my happiness is short-lived, replaced by fear that thuds in my stomach.

“Saskia can’t find out about this,” I say.

A shadow crosses Seb’s face. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell her.”

“Thanks.”

“I don’t usually make a habit of sharing my sex life with my sister,” he says, and seeing a glimpse of dry humor from him catches me off guard.

“So…um…” The smoothness I usually coast through life with abandons me when I stare down at Seb in bed.

His hair is tousled, including one tuft at the back, which sticks straight up like a tiny mohawk, defying gravity.

For one crazy, insane moment, I want to climb back into bed. I want to cuddle him, touch his warm skin, see if I can make him blush again. I want to mess up his hair even further.

The feeling is disorientating because I never want to hang around the morning after. Quick getaways are usually my specialty.

“Last night was…fun,” I settle on finally.

“It was fun,” he says solemnly.

It’s the seriousness in his voice that gets me. It’s so…Seb.

And it triggers me to do something I’ve never done with a one-night stand. I cross the distance back to the bed to place a kiss on his lips.

His lips are warm and dry, and I linger in the kiss for an extra heartbeat before pulling back.

Seb’s eyes are wide, his pupils blown. His fingers fly to his lips like he’s trying to imprint the kiss there. For a few seconds, we just stare at each other.

Enough sentiment.

I summon my trademark cocky smirk and flash him a wink.

“I’ll see you around,” I say as I slip through the door.

Luckily, the landing is deserted, and I sneak down the stairs.

Saskia was so drunk last night. I’m sure she’s sleeping it off, but I don’t want to run into any of my other friends who may have crashed here and have to make up some bullshit about where I disappeared to last night or why I’m still at Saskia’s house this morning.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I make it through the house and softly close the front door behind me.

The streetsof North Dunedin are empty this early on a Saturday morning, apart from a few other early-morning stragglers who, like me, woke up in the wrong bed.

It’s a good twenty minutes of brisk walking down the hill to my flat.

Unlike most other students, I live alone. The idea of sharing my space with anyone makes me antsy, so I stretch the money my father gives me to rent my own place. It means my flat is dingy and would probably fail most health-code inspections, but at least it’s mine.

I strip off my clothes and jump in the shower.

Once there, I can’t help but replay last night, which was far, far hotter than I’d expected.

My cock hardens just thinking about it.

Little Kleggs. Who would have thought he had it in him?

But I can’t jerk off to thoughts of him because that would be wrong.

Instead, I force myself to think about Saskia and what happened between us last night.