Free Forbidden Kisses (3:AM Kisses Book 9) by Addison Moore Page B

almost-stepsister to think I’m into her.
    That image of Scarlett’s head thrust back in lust goes off in my mind like a grenade. Yes, that would feel like heaven.
    “Hello? Did you hear a word I said?” She snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Never mind. You’re too busy mentally outlining the plot for your next skin flick with Miss North Carolina.” She jumps out of her seat so fast it tips backward, hitting the sidewalk with a clanging fury. Fifty people turn to gawk at us. “Don’t let me stop you. In fact, if you leave now, you might catch her before she blows one of your teammates into oblivion. Everyone knows Savannah Airhead Anderson does nothing but blow hot air!” she shouts so loud she’s actually managed to hold the attention of a small crowd passing by.
    “Hey, don’t get so worked up.” I pick up her seat and motion for her to get back in it, but she makes a face like she’s about to get sick. “Please, sit down. We didn’t finish that conversation we were having. And I want to.” I’m pleading like a pussy. I’m not sure why I feel the need to make nice with this girl—perhaps because she is indeed about to become my stepsister in a few short weeks. Perhaps because I’m a glutton for punishment. “ Sit .” It comes out a little sterner than anticipated.
    “Nobody tells me what to do with my body!” she thunders so loud an entire crowd of girls from the next table gasps in horror.
    “I wasn’t telling her what to do with her body.” God forbid I have my tires slashed by morning.
    “Yes, you were!” She snatches her drink off the table with a marked aggression—I’m expecting to wear it any minute now. “Liar, liar, nose as long as a telephone wire! You and your entire family!” Her face is just as red as her hair against this dark, moonless night. “You’re going to pay for this!” she screeches as she takes off toward Cutler Tower.
    “Pay for what?” I’m both perplexed and frightened of what exactly I’m about to pay for. “You’re a nut job just like your father!”
    A large iced mocha coffee, coconut milk, decaf—her order, comes tumbling from the sky and narrowly misses my temple.
    “Shit!” I touch the side of my head as if it had struck me.
    One of the dudes who works here comes at me with a broom and dustpan, ready and willing to clean up her mess.
    “Sorry.” I pick up her cup, the loose lid, and straw that rolled under the next table just to help the guy out. “She’s a little psychotic.”
    He chuckles while sweeping up the ice. “The good ones always are.”
    “She’s not a good one. Trust me on that.”
    But my stomach wrenches, and my boxers twitch like maybe she is.

    * * *
    I s there something going on with Scarlett? Sabrina hinted at it. She mentioned it would be very upsetting but wouldn’t give details. Any information you could get would be valuable. Bradley is losing his mind. He says she can be a firecracker when she wants to. Please watch over her. She is practically your sister!
    I stare at my mother’s text for a little longer than necessary. It’s early afternoon on Saturday, and I’ve trekked to the outskirts of Hollow Brook where my father traded his Bel Terra mansion for a split-level with wall-to-wall carpeting, an act my mother found both humiliating and repugnant.
    I’ll see what I can find out. I fire off the text and get out of my truck, taking in the scent bleeding from the pines mixing with the hint of something floral drifting in this heated, early summer air.
    I happen to know exactly what is up with that little firecracker. It’s me. It sounds as if Scarlett’s scantly engineered plan of getting her sister to think we’re going at it has crested its first wave, ready and willing to crash over us at any moment. I’ll bring it up to her and see what she wants to do. I get it. She’s hurting. The pain in her eyes last night was palpable. A part of me wanted to let her know that it will all work out, that no