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His lips curved the faintest bit, so subtle she doubted anyone else would be able to see it.

"Aye? You certain? Maybe you ain't recognize it, is all, needs you a reminder."

Damn, it was so hard pretending she didn't really care about him, pretending she didn't feel as if someone had poured her out of a jug to puddle all over everything, so turned on she could hardly breathe. Part of her was absolutely sure it didn't matter, anyway. Even the drunkest Downside alley rat would see the smile fighting to spread across her face, the way her skin flushed.

"Why we ain't go on home," he went on. He still didn't look at her, but heat radiated of his body to caress her skin; she imagined if she touched him he'd jump.  She knew she'd jump if he touched her. "Thinkin maybe there's more to chatter on that one."

Her nod felt too jerky, too eager, but she couldn't help it. Her muscles didn't seem to be entirely under her control.  "Maybe you're right — I think I need some help with that."

"Been thinkin on givin you the help all night, Chessiebomb. Every minute."

— Stacia Kane, Chasing Magic
    Downside Ghosts series


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