I glare down my nose at her. “Did you not notice the actual swords hanging over our heads right now?” Hank has a collection of them. Along with a fair number of hunting knives. He made sure to show them to me.

Her cheeks plump. “They’re only for decoration.”

“Uh-huh. Sure, they are. Tell me, Button, you ever bring a guy over here? Are their bodies buried in the garden?”

“You’re the first. But I’ll be sure to tell your story if you don’t make it out.”

“Your concern is touching. Really.”

Stella softly laughs, a breath of sound that makes my heart trip. Yes, my freaking heart is fluttering over a laugh. I seriously don’t recognize myself. And I don’t care.

“You’re really going to end the friend service?” The words are out of my mouth without forethought.

Her fingers tense and press into my chest before relaxing. “I love helping people, making them feel less lonely.” A light breath gusts across my skin. “But it’s getting to the point where my job makes me feel lonely. I’m starting to resent it, and that’s never good.”

“What, then? You’ll be a flight instructor instead?”

“I don’t know.” Her fingers trace an idle pattern on my chest. “I’d have to become certified. The job doesn’t pay very well, and it isn’t easy getting here from the train station, so I’d definitely have to move out of the city.”

I will myself not to tense, but I can feel my muscles stiffening anyway. Stella clearly feels it too. Her palm smooths over my skin. “I don’t want to leave the city. It’s my home.” She glances up at me. “Is it ridiculous to cling to an area I can’t afford just because it’s familiar?”

“Button, you said it yourself—it’s your home. More than anyone I know. Why would it be ridiculous to want to stay?”

“I’m thirty years old, and I haven’t got a clue. I just wish I knew what to do with myself. I was always so focused on having fun in the now that I never planned for the ‘what now?’”

In that way, Stella and I are alike. The future is a dark, nebulous place that I’ve never wanted to contemplate. Mostly because when I think of it, I see myself alone, irrelevant, and adrift. I tell myself I don’t mind being alone. At this point, I’ve been on my own more than half my life. But after the music stops and the friends are off doing their own thing, all I feel is empty. I’ve tried to fill that hole with constant partying, hookups, traveling from place to place. But it’s still there.

I don’t want that for Stella either. She’s too full of joy and life to feel adrift. “If you could have anything you wanted, anything and money is no object, what would it be?”

She’s silent for a while, clearly thinking the question over. Then she speaks, hesitant, as if the admission costs her. “A home. Something permanent. Something that’s mine.”

I ache for her. “What would it look like?”

She shifts a little, settling in more comfortably. “In the city. A house on a little street, where it’s private but close to everything. An older house with character and charm, and a rooftop garden to plant tomatoes and flowers, and I can soak in the sun.”

I can practically see it. “And a woodburning fireplace,” I add. “You have to have that so you can curl up and read on cold nights.”

“Sounds like heaven,” she says with a sigh.

I picture her there, in that cozy home, filled with books and flowers and music. Filled with the light of Stella. “Yes, it does.”

“I envy you,” she says before I can speak again.

“Why?” I hope she doesn’t mean the fame because that is a double-edged sword.

“Are you kidding me? You have this incredible talent and are at the top of your profession. Do you know how rare that is?”

I do. Or I thought I did. Funny thing is, it takes Stella’s quiet awe to really hammer that home. Even so, I have to be honest with her. “It seems to me that you can have one aspect of your life in perfect order and the rest can be going up in flames.”

“You’re right,” she says in a small voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”

“I didn’t mean my issues.” I husk out a short laugh. “Though I admit, I have my share. But that’s the thing. All the people I know in my profession have shit they need to work on. One form of success doesn’t guarantee other forms, you know?”

She turns her face into the crook of my shoulder. “Yes. Because this part of my life? Right now? Freaking awesome.”

“I’m feeling pretty good right now,” I agree. Especially when Stella slides her bare thigh over mine. A thought races into my deviant mind: what if she isn’t wearing panties? Like that, my hand starts drifting south, sliding down the gentle slope of her back, seeking the soft curve of her ass. Because I have to know. I have to know.

Stella moves into my touch, delicately arching that sweet arse of hers toward my hand. Good girl, Stella is. The best girl. She’s a juicy handful, and I give her a soft, appreciative squeeze as my fingertip traces the line of her panties.

Damn.

Her panties are soft cotton, which somehow turns me on more than if I’d found her bare or in silk. I can’t see them, but in my mind those little panties are pale pink with a big red heart front and center. It gets me so hot, my entire body clenches tight.

She feels it. I know she does because she’s turning further toward me, her breasts pushing against my ribs. “You’re copping a feel, mister.”

“Can’t help it. If you’re within touching distance, I will get handsy.” Tight with anticipation, I turn onto my side, sliding down a little until we’re face to face. And the fucking sofa-bed from hell screeches in protest. This time, we both freeze, staring at each other with wide eyes as the seconds eek by.

An impish smile plays over her lips. “I never snuck around with a boy as a teen, but I kind of feel like I’m doing that right now.”

Truth is, while I don’t relish the idea of getting caught by Hank, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. But pretending it would be, sneaking around with Stella like we’re a pair of naughty teens, is surprisingly fun. I’ve never had to fear getting caught. I had no idea how it could make every touch, every breath, mean more. How fucking hot it could get me.

With the tip of my finger, I ease back a lock of hair that’s fallen over her cheek. “I think we were missing out.”

Her eyes light up, and I know she wants to play. That gets me even hotter.

“We’ll have to make up for that.” She strokes the line of my neck, light and drifting like she doesn’t have a destination in mind but just wants to touch. “I mean, this isn’t my parents’ house. But it could be. If Hank walked in and found me here—”

My mouth is on hers, relearning the plush, sweet swell of her bottom lip, taking a little sip of her upper lip. I don’t remember moving, or even deciding to kiss her. But I don’t stop. I kiss her softly, loving the way it makes her shiver. I kiss her cheek, the curve of her jaw. My hand cups the back of her head as I kiss her neck and then find her mouth again.

Her fingers comb through my hair, massaging my scalp. It feels so good, so damn good. I rest my forehead against hers as I toy with the collar of her shirt. “Will you be grounded if we’re caught, Button?”