Dodging Trains by Sunniva Dee Read Free Book Online Page B

and flooding him with its gore. I can be glamorous or my quirky, real self. I can be “adorbs” as Mack calls it, a word he’s borrowed from his niece.
    I’m back in control. Like in bed, I’m in control. It’s a rare sensation, because outside of Win’s Hall of Mirrors I never know when someone’s going to insult me or when a pissed-off wife will attack. This is why I used to love dressing up.
    “Champagne, guys?” Keyon asks, swiping a few glasses of crackling gold from a passing waiter. Wooden floors stretch below expensive stilettos and shiny dress shoes in the enormous hallway.
    Piano trills reach me from the open doors into a living room. I take a sip of my glass and close my eyes briefly. Moments like this one, full of scent and color, need to be frozen into a film clip. I suck it in, memorize it, and open my eyes to find Keyon staring right at me.
    I smirk. Pull my lips up on both sides, but keep the middle part of my mouth pouted. It’s an expression I’ve perfected, and it drives guys crazy. One of Keyon’s eyebrows tilts upward like he’s trying to figure me out.
    “I like your house,” I say.
    “My house, huh?”
    “Yes, yours. You’re Fighter Boy who came home to see his dad get into his position,” I purr in a voice that’s right up there with Marilyn Monroe’s. It’s another thing I’ve perfected over the years.
    Keyon breathes a quiet laugh. “You’re a handful, aren’t you?”
    “She is,” Mack says. “Sure as hell. Be careful with this one.” He sends me a side-glance, recognizing the gear I’m switching to.
    Keyon stares at Mack, eyes squinted in concentration. “You know her well, don’t you?” he asks like I’m not even there.
    “Can’t say I don’t,” Mack replies, straightening so he can meet Keyon’s gaze. For a second, I catch possessiveness in my friend. After the first times Mack and I slept together, he acted jealous. Funny how guys can be that way: they don’t want to be exclusive, but they still want your exclusive focus.
    Mack and I have worked together for years, and I’ve provided him with sexual relief for most of that time. He’s seen my game, been present when I’ve shown interest in new men. He’s got experience now, is aware of our non-status, so his flicker of possessiveness dies as quickly as it appeared.
    “If you’ll excuse me?” He nods at me and points to a group of forest animals. They’re squirrels and bunnies—Playboy bunnies. “I see a friend. I’ll be right back.”
    “Sure, it was good to meet you,” Keyon says and crosses his arms, effectively drawing my focus to his biceps. Because holy hell.
    “How long are you in town for, Arias Junior?” I ask, running the tip of my tongue over my lower lip. His Adam’s apple bobs as he studies my mouth, and I think that he’d be easy to pull in. I could probably control Keyon right now if I wanted to.
    I hadn’t planned on that though. At the most, I was going to peek at him from behind a corner, hyperventilate over seeing the boy who gave me my first kiss, and run back home. I was going to relive rosy film clips about long-gone moments of innocence.
    I study his face. High cheekbones, a strangely perfect nose for a fighter, and almond-shaped eyes tipped upward at the outer crooks.
    When it comes to his body, there’s nothing fine-boned about Keyon anymore. Still, I see familiar traits. The scar on his index finger from the time he hung from a branch outside my bedroom window until the skin cracked. The way his lips slope into a full-blown grin right now.
    But I’ve never seen the scar on his lip before. Suddenly, I wish I’d been there when he got it. If the circumstances hadn’t ripped him away, I would have.
    “I’ll be staying for a week,” he answers my question. “I’ve got two months left until a big fight in Mexico, so I’ll need to focus on training after that.”
    “And you can’t here?” I slant my head playfully at him.
    “Right. This is my parents’