Free That Kind of Girl (Fillmore & Greenwich Book 2) by Kate Perry

going to kiss her? She held her breath. Yes, please .
    Oh, hell, no . What was she thinking? He was just trying to manipulate her into dancing with him. She stepped back and punched his arm.
    "Ow." Frowning, he rubbed the spot. "What was that for?"
    "You're lucky I didn't do what Poppy taught me to do to boys who tried to make passes." She headed toward her door. Only a very, very small part of her wanted him to follow her.
    "Georgina," he called softly after her.
    She looked over her shoulder.
    "Next time you make the pass, and I'll show you what I do to girls who make them."
    She shivered again, and then she went inside quickly before she was tempted to find out.

 

     
    Remy sat on the couch in his barren, rented apartment, the words he'd just said running through his head. Next time you make the pass, and I'll show you what I do to girls who make them.
    He'd said that.
    You used to talk like that all the time .
    But your death stopped that , Remy replied silently.
    It makes me feel bad . . .
    "Not as bad as you dying made me feel, babe," he murmured, leaning back.
    The lack of response made the silence of the apartment more profound. Remy sat in the dark loft he'd rented for the month while he checked out Georgina. A month had seemed much longer than he'd need, but the way things were going he'd probably have to extend his stay.
    He could find another dance partner. Finding a dance partner wasn't easy—you had to have a connection that went deeper than just being able to move together. It was a feeling. Sometimes a person you connected with in conversation didn't connect with you in the dance.
    Except he knew that Georgina could dance—he could see it in how she moved. He'd felt it in the brief moment he'd held her in his arms. Whether they'd connect wasn't in question; he knew without a doubt that, when they did dance, it'd be everything he imagined it could be.
    His phone rang, and he lurched to get it before he realized Georgina didn't have his number yet.
    It was Max. "I'm out with some guys from work. Come meet us."
    It'd be so easy to stay in. It was quiet and dark, and he could plan how he'd assault Georgina the next day.
    Max must have sensed him digging in. "Dude, I'm not asking for a lifetime commitment. Come out for a drink."
    Remy's lips quirked. "I thought we already had a lifetime commitment."
    "We do, I just didn't want to scare you. So you coming out, or do I have to fetch you?"
    He looked around the dark apartment, a restless feeling coming over him. "I'll come meet you," he said impulsively, getting up.
    "I'll text you the address." Max hung up and, three seconds later, sent a pin of his location. Grabbing his jacket, Remy went out to his motorcycle and rode over.
    He saw Max the moment he walked in, leaning on an elbow at the bar, talking to a woman. A blonde, of course. Remy would have given anyone else space to close the deal, but this was Max. He went over and put his arm around his buddy. "There you are, sweetheart," Remy purred. "I wondered where you went off to."
    The blonde looked between the two of them, her face flushing with embarrassed understanding. "Oh. Hi."
    Max pushed Remy aside. "Don't pay any attention to him. He's just messing with me."
    "I'd like to mess with you later." Remy ruffled his friend's hair. "Sexy Max."
    The girl hopped off her stool and snatched her drink. "I've got to, uh, go. My friends are waiting."
    They watched her scurry to the back of the bar.
    Max sighed in disappointment and then turned to whack him across the chest. "What the hell, dude? Sexy Max was in action."
    "Yeah, I saw that. I thought you were here with friends."
    "They had to bail."
    Remy motioned to the bartender. "Then can I buy Sexy Max a drink?"
    "Fine." He asked the bartender for a beer.
    Remy ordered a club soda as he took out a bill and set it on the counter. The bartender took it in exchange for a tall plastic cup and a beer bottle.
    "Club soda?" Max made a face as he took the beer. "Did you