Chapter 9: : Chapter 9

Murder is a crime, Kris reminded herself for the umpteenth time as she, Skylar, and Nate waited in line for the Ferris wheel. You cannot murder a seventeen-year-old girl.

She liked Skylar. But after tonight, the girl would be lucky if Kris didn’t throttle her.

She couldn’t believe Skylar had set her up on a date with her brother—or that her brother was Nate, of all people.

What were the fucking chances?

At least Nate seemed as shocked as she was. He’d been silent the entire time and let Skylar gab away to her heart’s content.

“Did I tell you Nate’s an actor?” The blonde’s eyes gleamed with mischief. If she sensed the hostility in the air, she didn’t show it. “He’s been in a few TV shows and movies. You should watch Four Kings. It’s his latest movie—came out last year—and he played one of the mobster’s henchmen.”

“Kris doesn’t like mobster movies,” Nate said, handing the Ferris wheel operator their tickets.

Kris bristled at the assumption. She didn’t like mobster movies. But once again, Nate was pretending he knew her—what she liked, what she didn’t like—and it pissed her off.

“How do you know?” she and Skylar asked at the same time, though Kris’s voice was far sharper.

Skylar had no clue Kris and Nate already knew each other. Kris doubted Nate had told his sister he was seducing an older woman for money—not that Gloria was much older than him. She was twenty-seven, and he was twenty-three. A four-year difference.

“Just a guess.” Nate stepped inside the gate.

Kris followed him, her blood heating at the certainty in his tone. “Well, you’re a shitty guesser.”

“You’re saying you do like mobster movies?” Nate’s smirk made her want to punch him in the face.

“I do.”

“What’s your favorite one?”

Crap. She scrounged her memory for a mob movie, any mob movie. “The Godfather.”

“A classic.” Nate nodded. “I especially loved the scene where they put the severed dog’s head in Johnny’s bed.”

Kris’s stomach churned at the mental image. “Me too.”

She wasn’t a big dog fan—she preferred cats, who were independent, aloof, and far less yappy—but who the fuck would be sick enough to cut off a dog’s head? Even if it was fiction.

Nate burst into laughter.

Her brows snapped into a frown. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re so full of shit.” Nate grinned a genuine grin, and the sight hit her in her heart and lower belly at the same time. Flutters and heat. A one-two punch. “It was a horse’s head, not a dog’s head. And they put it in Jack Woltz’s bed, not Johnny’s.”

Double crap.

“I forgot,” Kris said with as much dignity as she could muster. “I watched the movie a long time ago.”

“It’s one of the most iconic scenes in the film and probably Hollywood history. Trust me. If you’ve ever watched The Godfather—even if it wasn’t your favorite—you’d remember it.”

Dammit.

“You tricked me.” She couldn’t bring herself to be that upset. Maybe it was Nate’s smile or the electric energy in the air. Whatever it was, it smoothed the jagged edges of her earlier ire until they melted into a warm pool at the pit of her stomach.

Nate’s eyes crinkled into a wider smile, and the warmth intensified. “Sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all.

“Hey, you gotta get in a pod,” the operator interrupted, looking annoyed. “Everyone’s waiting on you.”

“You and Skylar go together,” Nate said. “I’ll—” He frowned. “Sky?”

He and Kris swiveled their heads toward the other side of the now-closed gate, where Skylar clutched her stomach with a faux pained look on her face. Kris knew it was fake because she could see the smile threatening to break out on the girl’s mouth.

“I’m not feeling well,” the blonde announced. “Must be the cotton candy. You guys stay and have fun. I’m going home.”

“The hell you are,” Nate growled. “Get over here, Sky.”

“Nope.” His sister shook her head. “I’m going to vomit.”

The operator paled. “You’re not getting on this ride if you feel sick,” he said.

“Nate. Keys, please.” Skylar let out a dramatic moan. “I need to lie down.”

After much cursing and scowling from both Nate and the operator—who complained that they were holding everyone up—Nate handed his keys to Skylar and told her where he’d parked.

“How am I supposed to get home?” he demanded.

“Kris can drive you,” Skylar said, innocent as a doe. “You wouldn’t mind, would you, Kris?”

Kris’s urge to throttle the other girl resurfaced with a vengeance. “No,” she grumbled.

“Great. See you two later! Have fun!” Skylar rushed off, leaving Nate and Kris alone with the irate operator, who shooed them into a pod with a dark glare.

“Your sister isn’t very subtle.” Kris stared over the edge of their pod as the wheel creaked to life and they rose into the air. The people on the ground grew smaller and smaller until they were nothing more than specks amidst all the lights. Further out, the dark, white-tipped waves of the Pacific crashed against the beach in a hopeless embrace—always chasing, never catching. Doomed to arrive onshore only to get sucked back into the vastness of the sea. Proving that you couldn’t ever escape who you were.

“No, she isn’t.” Nate drummed his fingers on his thigh. “I’m going to kill her.”

“Not if I kill her first.” Kris tore her gaze away from the view and focused on the man sitting across from her.

His mouth kicked up into a smile. “How’d you two meet? Don’t say the movies, because no one talks at the movies, much less make new friends.” He paused. “You’re not some psycho stalker trying to get to me through my family, are you?”

“You have an over-inflated opinion of my interest in you.” Kris didn’t mention the lust licking her skin at the sight of him slouched in his seat, wearing an old blue T-shirt that stretched across his shoulders and muscular biceps. A crazy urge to run her hand over the front of his shirt gripped her. Just to check if the tee was as soft as it looked, of course. “We’re working together. I don’t need to get to you through your family.”

“Fine, but you didn’t answer my question. How did you and Sky really meet?”

As mad as she was at Skylar, Kris didn’t want to give up the girl’s secret. Skylar didn’t want Nate to know she’d joined MentHer, and Kris was no snitch. “Ask your sister.”

“You’re seriously not going to tell me?”

“Ask your sister,” she repeated.

Nate let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Women.”

“Speaking of women, how are things going with Gloria?” Kris switched the subject to safer territory.

He side-eyed her but didn’t comment on the change in conversation. “Good. She’s gotten bolder. She all but offered me a blow job in front of the downstairs bathroom the other day.”

Kris grimaced. She should be happy—their plan was right on track—but the thought of Nate getting physically involved with Gloria irritated her beyond measure.

“I’m going to pull the trigger soon,” Nate said. “Ask her to meet me at a hotel. You can get your P.I. in place.”

“Great.” Kris twirled her gold bangle around her wrist. She’d been focused on getting rid of Gloria for so long that she expected to feel more excited about the Stepmonster’s imminent departure from her life, but she found it hard to muster up her previous enthusiasm.

The past few weeks, she’d been wrapped up in her fake relationship with Nate, only it didn’t feel fake. The chemistry was real. The laughter was real. The way her heart leapt when she saw him was real.

Fuck.

The Ferris wheel ground to a halt. Kris thought the ride had ended, but when she looked up, she realized they were sitting at the top of the ride.

“Is it supposed to stop like this?” Kris hadn’t been on a Ferris wheel in forever. She didn’t like amusement parks, but the experience had been tolerable so far.

“No.” Nate peered over the edge. “Seems like we’re stuck.”

“What?”

“They’ll fix it soon,” he assured her. “Don’t worry.”

A few seconds later, they heard an announcement confirming that they were indeed stuck because of a mechanical issue and that engineers were working on getting them down as soon as possible.

Kris’s heart pounded against her chest. “If I die in a fucking Ferris wheel, I’m going to haunt you for eternity.”

Nate looked unfazed. “I didn’t force you to get on.”

“Technicalities.”

“Are you scared of heights?”

“No.” But that didn’t mean she enjoyed getting stuck in a giant metal contraption eighty-five feet above the ground.

“We might be stuck for a while,” Nate mused. “Could be hours.”

Hours?

Kris groaned. She knew she should’ve said no when Skylar asked her for a girls’ night at the pier. This was what she got for trying to be nice.

“Why do you sound so unconcerned?”

Something squeaked, and Kris forced herself not to jump at the sound. She’d meant what she said about haunting him—and everyone who had anything to do with this Ferris wheel—if she died here.

Vengeance would make the afterlife so much more interesting.

“There’s nothing we can do about it.” Nate shrugged. “At least we’re not in a life-or-death situation. We just have to wait it out. In the meantime, there’s a beautiful view, beautiful girl…”

Kris snorted. By now, she knew how he operated. Nate was flirty and charming by nature, so his words didn’t mean anything. At all.

They fell into a comfortable silence, during which she stared out at the admittedly beautiful view while Nate leaned back and closed his eyes like he was taking a nap.

After ten minutes of no sound other than the waves, wind, and distant laughter of people on the ground, Nate spoke up. “You’re not really going to go out with Elijah, are you?”

His eyes remained closed, but his body was tense and coiled, like a cobra waiting to strike. He resembled a beautiful statue in repose.

“Who?”

He made an impatient sound. “Blue Hair.”

Right. Blue Hair’s real name was Elijah. Nate had said so at the cafe—and Elijah had told her too, probably. Kris hadn’t paid much attention. She only gave him her number because he’d mentioned he played in a band, and she’d promised Susan she would help look for entertainment options for MentHer’s summer gala. They had a limited budget, but Elijah said he’d check with the band and let her know if they were up for a charity gig. If so, Kris would have to screen them first and make sure they weren’t totally shittastic before she booked them.

“Because you’re supposed to be dating me,” Nate continued. “Don’t want to mess things up with the Gloria Plan until it’s finished.”

“I thought you were worried about me hurting your friend.”

You’re not the type of girl who would ever let your guard down enough to get hurt.

It hadn’t been an insult, per se, and Kris shouldn’t have gotten as worked up as she had, but Nate’s words had hit a little too close to home. Her last boyfriend had been Colin, whom she’d dated for a few months her freshman year of college. She’d met him at a charity event, and they’d hit it off. He was a few years older than her, but she’d liked how mature he was compared to the frat bros on campus.

Colin had been nice. Cute. Successful. But Kris had never let him into her private thoughts and life, and when he’d pushed her on it—always wanting to know more than she was willing to reveal—she’d broken things off.

Displaying vulnerability was not her thing. Yet sometimes, she wished it was. It’d be nice to talk to someone about the fears and insecurities that plagued her in the middle of the night. Not a therapist, but someone who actually cared about her and who could relate to how she felt.

But you couldn’t get everything you wished for. Not even if your name was Kris Carrera.

Nate shrugged, the movement drawing Kris out of her thoughts. “There are multiple reasons why you guys are a bad match.”

She brushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. “You seem awfully invested in my love life.”

“Maybe I am.”

The air shifted. It happened so fast it was like someone flipped a switch, and the change did something to Kris’s insides—to her heart, which suddenly pounded; to her stomach, which suddenly twisted; to her throat, which suddenly dried. For once in her life, she didn’t have a sarcastic comeback or a witty insult.

Nate hadn’t moved an inch, but his chest rose and fell harder than it had a minute ago. His eyes flickered with heat, and the tendrils of warmth traveled the space between them and wrapped themselves around Kris. Silk ribbons against sensitive flesh.

“Do you remember our contract?” His voice was all gravel.

Kris nodded.

“You promised me a kiss.”

She’d thought he’d forgotten. He hadn’t mentioned it since the day they signed their contract, and he hadn’t tried to kiss her once. All he did was nuzzle her neck and put his arm around her when they were in front of Gloria.

Kris didn’t like it when people strong-armed her, and that’d been what Nate did when he made their deal contingent on a kiss.

But in this moment, on this Ferris wheel, the girl who thought she had everything wanted nothing more than for the boy sitting across from her to kiss her.

“You said you wouldn’t kiss me until I begged for it.” She struggled to keep her voice even. “Newsflash: Still. Not. Happening.”

Kris might be dying to feel his lips beneath hers, but she had her pride, and it was the only thing keeping her from launching herself at Nate like a lust-crazed heathen.

Nate erased the distance between them and settled in the seat next to hers. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he drawled, his eyes dark with intent.

“I’m never wrong.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

A breeze swept by, blowing a few stray hairs into her eyes again. Nate brushed them out of the way before capturing a thicker lock between his fingers.

“Like silk,” he murmured, rubbing the smooth, dark strands. “Tell me. Have you ever been kissed on a Ferris wheel?”

Thump. Thump. THUMP.

“No,” Kris managed, ordering her heart to shut up. It didn’t listen. “It’s horribly cliché.”

Nate looked thoughtful, as if he were mulling her words over and searching for any signs of untruth. “Perhaps, but that doesn’t mean it’s not enjoyable. I think we should test it out.”

“Nate Reynolds, are you trying to seduce me?”

That’s not what I’m paying you for, she should’ve added. Except she didn’t.

His dangerous grin did wonderful, horrible things to her suddenly shaky knees. Thank God she was sitting down. A face plant would’ve been humiliating and, judging by the state of the ground, unhygienic.

“No. If I were trying to seduce you, I’d do this.” Nate pressed his mouth to the hollow of her throat, his coffee and leather scent enveloping her. “And this.” He made his way to her ear, which he nibbled. “And this.” His hand drifted to her bare thigh, which he caressed with slow, lazy sweeps of his palm.

Kris shivered, the warmth of his touch contrasting with the chill in the air now that the sun had set. Goosebumps blossomed on her arms and legs while something inside her melted and pooled in her belly and between her thighs.

“You’re cheating.” Her voice sounded far more breathless than she would’ve liked.

“Am I?” Another lazy sweep of his palms, this time inching closer to her heated core. “How so?”

“You know how.”

“I want you to say it.” Nate’s lips whispered over the delicate skin of her throat. His thumb rubbed a circle on the inside of her thigh, and Kris gripped the edge of her seat with one hand, her breath turning shallow.

“No.”

He tsked in disappointment. “Perhaps you want me to stop instead.”

Silence.

A soft laugh. “That’s what I thought.”

“You are insufferable,” Kris ground out, even as her skin throbbed with frustration and arousal. Nate wasn’t right for her in so many ways. He wasn’t even a good candidate for a casual fling, given how tied up he was in her Gloria scheme.

But she wanted him all the same.

“Not the worst thing I’ve been called.” Nate lifted his head and captured her gaze with his. “All you have to do is ask, and we could do something a helluva lot more fun than talking.”

“You mean kissing.”

“Sure. Kissing.” His eyes shone with laughter.

Hmph. If he thought he could get past first base with her on a freakin’ Ferris wheel, he had another think coming.

Never mind the fact that she was already halfway to orgasm.

“I don’t beg.”

“So you said.” Nate’s voice deepened into a soft growl. “But if you don’t stop looking at me like that, I might kiss you anyway—and not on your lips. Or your neck.”

Kris’s thighs clenched as another wave of heat consumed her. She should’ve slapped him for how forward he was being, but all she could think about was his hands pinning her hips down and his head buried between her legs. She wasn’t big on public sex, but the thought that someone could catch them sent a thrill through her body.

Why am I even thinking about this?

It wasn’t like she was actually going to let him go down on her here. Or anywhere.

Her eyes dropped to his mouth, taking in the sculpted curve of his lips.

Another growl emitted from his throat. “Kris—”

A loud whine sliced through her air, and she jerked back in surprise.

Another, quieter whine, a short stutter, and then the wheel started moving again.

They were no longer stuck.

Kris scooted to the other end of the bench until she was as far away from Nate as possible. The wheel’s slow descent shook her out of her fog and straight into What the hell were you thinking? territory.

Nate didn’t speak or attempt to close the distance between them again. Instead, he watched her quietly with those mesmerizing eyes, all emotion wiped from his face.

When they hit the ground level and the operator opened the gate to their pod, she all but flew out of her seat.

Damn you, Skylar, Kris thought, her heartbeat a loud snare drum that overrode the rest of her senses. She should be at home, FaceTiming Courtney or watching Netflix, not getting messed up in the head about a guy she’d known for, what, a month?

She and Nate walked down the main drag of the pier in silence for a few minutes before she felt compelled to clear the air. “Listen, this isn’t a good idea.”

“What, walking?” Nate drawled.

She released an exasperated sigh. “No. This.” She gestured between them. “What happened back there wasn’t—we’re not really dating.”

“Never said we were.”

“We shouldn’t get involved in any way, except for the Gloria thing.”

“Agreed.”

Kris frowned, a little irritated by Nate’s quick, casual reply. “Okay.” She cleared her throat again. “Okay.”

Damn. She’d already said that, hadn’t she?

More walking. More silence.

She supposed she could leave now that Skylar was gone, but she was strangely reluctant to do so.

I could use more fresh air, Kris told herself. And the pier was nice at night if you overlooked the hordes of badly dressed tourists.

“I never figured you for the punk rock type,” Nate said.

Her brow knitted in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“Elijah.” Still with that casual tone of his. “Didn’t think you’d be into the blue hair and facial piercings.”

Dear God, not this again. She was too tired to get into another argument.

“I’m not.” Kris had nothing against unnatural hair colors or piercings per se, but she wasn’t attracted to Blue Hair—er, Elijah—in the least.

“You gave him your number.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I wanted his help with an event I’m planning,” she said coolly. “He said his band might be up for a free gig.”

If she weren’t so annoyed, she would’ve laughed at the stunned look on Nate’s face.

“Oh.” He coughed. “That’s…he didn’t tell me that.”

“That’s on him.” Kris wasn’t an idiot—she could tell Elijah was attracted to her, but it wasn’t like the guy was in love or anything. He probably hit on every decent-looking female who walked into Alchemy. “But like I said, it’s none of your business. We’re not actually dating.”

She was tired of saying that, but she hoped repeating it would drill the sentiment into Nate’s—and her own—head.

“Right.” This time, Nate was the one who frowned. “My bank account isn’t big enough for that.”

Kris wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. “Excuse me?”

“I imagine you only go for the Richie Riches.” His jaw flexed. “Which I get. Parity in net worths and all that.”

For the umpteenth time that day, her temper flared. “Is that what you think of me? That I would date someone based on how much money they had?”

He cut a glance in her direction. “I don’t know, you tell me. How many of your exes came from a non-upper-class background?”

Kris opened her mouth, but no rebuttal came forth.

Shit. He was right. She didn’t date much, but all her ex-boyfriends—hell, all her ex-hookups—belonged in the trust fund category.

It was funny. She had no problem being a snob about clothes and cars, but distilling a person down to their net worth felt gross.

“My exes and I ran in the same social circles,” she said, sounding defensive to her own ears. “I didn’t date them because they’re rich. It just…happened that way.”

“Sure.”

Kris’s lips thinned. “Look, I don’t know what hang-ups you have about money—”

“I don’t have hang-ups about money—.”

“But you need to slow it with the accusations—”

“I don’t know why we’re—”

The loud chime of an incoming call interrupted their argument.

Nate glanced at his phone. “I have to take this,” he muttered.

Kris turned her head and stared at the Ferris wheel glowing against the night sky. It had been less than half an hour since they’d gotten off the ride, but it felt like a lifetime ago. The pier’s energy electrified the air, bouncing off the people and buildings until it swirled around Kris in a maelstrom of anticipation.

Nate’s voice was low as he spoke into his phone. “Hey, this isn’t a good—wait, what?”

Her gaze snapped back to Nate. He’d gone pale, and panic tinged with fear bled into his voice.

“Hold on,” he said. “I’ll be right there. Don’t worry, everything will be fine.”

“What’s wrong?” Kris asked when he hung up. Concern eroded her earlier irritation.

Nate raked a hand through his hair, his eyes glassy. “It’s my dad. He’s in the hospital.”