Only Trick by Jewel E. Ann Read Free Book Online Page B

life, except for my nana, she’s amazing.”
    “Where does your nana live?”
    “Lincoln Park. Not too far from me. She’s the only blood relative I have left on my mom’s side, and she moved in with us after I was born.” My voice fades to just barely above a whisper. “My mom died giving birth to me, so Nana basically raised me.”
    Trick gives me a sad smile that I return with a such-is-life shrug. The heavy air suffocates the moment leaving an awkward silence. “Mom died” is the biggest conversation killer.
    “So … if you hadn’t taken pity on me and offered dinner and ‘hanging out,’ what would you be doing tonight?”
    He wets his lips then rubs them together. “Drawing.”
    “Drawing? Drawing what?”
    “Whatever my current project happens to be.”
    I purse my lips to the side. “Are we talking crayons, markers, chalk?”
    “Pencil.”
    “Really? Can I see?”
    He looks at me with an unexpected frown on his face before diverting his eyes to his lap “No.”
    I laugh then try to choke it back when I see his lips pull into a firm line. “Are you serious? You’re not going to let me see them?”
    Trick shakes his head with absolution.
    “But I thought we were friends.”
    “We are, but let’s be honest, if this were a date would you have sex with me tonight?”
    If you weren’t gay? Yes! Yeah, that’s so wrong of me.
    “No. What’s your point?”
    “My point is that some things are personal and require a certain amount of trust.”
    I fidget with the frayed hem of my jeans. “So you don’t trust me?”
    “I don’t trust women.”
    Rubbing my hands over my face, I sigh. “I guess I had that one coming. Do you want to talk about it?”
    He looks up with tight brows. “Talk about why I don’t trust women?”
    I nod.
    “No, I don’t.”
    My phone rings. We both look at my handbag. “Excuse me.” I dig through everything and find it buried at the bottom. Trick watches with unnerving intensity as I say a few okays and “be right there.”
    “Emergency?” he asks as I drop my phone in my purse.
    “Yes, a shooting with multiple victims. Sorry, I have to go. Besides, you won’t show me your artwork so we might as well call it a night.” I love the way he tips his chin to hide his grin. He stands and I wave him off. “I can grab a cab.”
    “No, I’ll get you there faster.”
    I raise an untrusting brow. “I think safer is better than faster.”
    “Come,” he yells over his shoulder as I do the one-legged hop, trying to catch up while tugging on my boots.
    *
    Hair twist. Helmet. Jacket. Ass grab. Yes!
    Thankfully no one can see the Cheshire cat grin on my face as Trick weaves through traffic to the hospital. The past forty-eight hours have been surreal. After witnessing so many motorcycle injuries and fatalities, I swore I’d never get on the back of one, yet here I am—enjoying every tummy-twisting minute. The idea of having a true friend had fallen off my vision board; now it’s back on, front and center. And capturing the attention of a guy like Trick … well, there are no words.
    Wealth doesn’t always equate to popularity. Slipping out of a sleek limo says wealthy. I’ve done that more times than I care to remember since my father married Rachel. Easing my leg over the back of a motorcycle behind a guy that looks like trouble says popular. At twenty-seven, is it too late to be popular?
    I hand Trick my helmet and shrug off his jacket. “Thanks for dinner.” I hug myself, rubbing my arms. It’s the middle of summer. Why am I either freezing or burning up in his presence?
    He nods, slipping his jacket on.
    “We should hang out again.” In my head it’s a question; in my voice it’s a suggestion.
    Another nod. “Come by sometime.”
    “I will.” I start to walk away then turn. “Just so you know, I’m not a virgin. So sex on our second date is a good possibility. But since I’m missing the correct anatomy, I’ll settle for a private viewing of your