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"You wanna go?" Patrick asks.

"Please," I say.

"To the party?" he asks.

"If we can have sex first," I whisper.

"No. After," he whispers back. "Now. Do you want to get dinner? Or do you want to go back to my place?"

"Is that even a question?"

ChapterSixteen

PATRICK

Is that even a question?

Imogen's voice echoes through my head as we walk down Main Street. I barely notice the hip restaurants, the string lights, the mix of tourists and locals.

I want her so badly I can't think. It's ridiculous.

She stops in front of a French restaurant and studies the yellow glow of the lights. "I have no idea what kind of food you like."

"You know I like chai," I say.

"Who wouldn't like my chai?" Her lips curl into a small smile. It lights up her gorgeous face. It makes my heart thud against my chest and my stomach do flip-flops.

She's beautiful. She really is.

"Are you okay?" She tilts her head to one side. "Don't tell me you're still drained?"

"Huh?" I ask.

"From Sunday," she says.

"Sore, but not drained," I say.

"Yeah." Her smile widens. "Where?"

"Are you gonna rub it better?" It's easy, keeping this to sex. It's what I do. I hide from heaviness.

"Here? On the street?" Desire flares in her eyes.

"Behind the restaurant." I nod to the French bistro.

"In Santa Monica? We'll get arrested," she says.

"Once we cross the line into Venice," I say.

She laughs. "That will do it."

"Against the matcha shop on Abbot-Kinney."

"ScrewI love you so matchawhen you haveI need to screw you so matcha," she says.

"Is that on your Instagram?"

"It should be."


Tags: Crystal Kaswell Romance