Blue Notes by Carrie Lofty

his effect since Friday? How did I think I could come here and remain upright while weighed by the curious aloofness of his blue, blue eyes? Maybe it was a self-defense mechanism. Or I’ve gone temporarily insane.
    I hope it’s temporary.
    I make my feet move forward. Adelaide can wait. She’s occupied anyway. Leaving Janissa twists me with guilt. I don’t dare look back for fear of seeing a reminder of the truth in her eyes.
    Drama. Bad boy. You don’t have time for this.
    “Hello, Mr. Villars.” Yeah, there’s some bitterness in my greeting. After he made me twist last week, I indulge in one petty comment. There may be more to come if he messes with me again.
    “Have I been found out, Miss Chambers?” He takes a sip, looking at me over the lip of the bottle.
    “Yes. Now we both have full names. All very civilized.”
    “I can go back to sugar if you want, but I decided to try politeness.”
    “What about Friday night? That wasn’t polite at all.”
    He pushes away from the wall and presses into my space. I turn, using small steps to slip back and away from his physical presence. I only wind up buffeted by the sturdy bricks.
    “Now you’ve done it,” he says.
    “Done . . . ?”
    “You’ve let me hide you over here.” He touches my cheek so softly, so slowly, that I’m convinced I’m dreaming. “As for last time, I wanted to enjoy teasing you before you found out who I am. Everyone finds out eventually.”
    I frown at the cynicism in his voice, but he soothes the pinch between my eyebrows. “I thought you and Adelaide were a thing,” I say. “Boyfriend, girlfriend.”
    He drops his hand. His gaze rests on my lower lip. His intensity is even more intimate than touching me. “Creep factor aside, I treat her a lot better than her boyfriends do. I wanted to see if you could keep up with her, because I don’t just mean her music.”
    “You mean her personal life too? I’m not her chaperone.”
    “No,” he says, mouth tight. The only time I’ve seen him stray from his glib playboy act is when he talks about his sister. “You’re not.”
    “You want me to spy on her for you? Is that it?”
    He shakes his head. “You know, I’m already regretting Friday night. I gave you such a bad first impression.”
    I blink at his words, which almost sound like an apology. I don’t know if I’d call his first impression bad. Frustrating. Unique. Captivating . But it sure didn’t invite involvement in his family problems.
    “What would you do differently, if you could go back?”
    He doesn’t have dimples. Not really. It’s more like his smile can get so big and bright that laugh lines bunch together on either side of his enticing lips. Pseudo dimples. I want to kiss each one. To kiss him while he smiles . . . that hits me as way more intimate than fantasies about kissing him in the heat of passion. I already know he doesn’t shine that smile at just anyone.
    “I’d have told you who I am and used it to tempt you back to my place.”
    “Liar,” I say, returning his smile.
    “I’d have asked you out for coffee and beignets.”
    “I think that’s still a lie, but I like it.”
    He chuckles, then nuzzles my neck until he finds skin. I shiver when his lips touch me. I should protest, shouldn’t I? Instead I tilt my head to give him better access.
    “I’d have kissed you and called you ‘sugar’ until you didn’t know whether to hit me or kiss me back.”
    “That’s more like it.” I’m breathless with anticipation while still trying to hold a conversation. “And you think what you’re doing will have an impact on Adelaide and me?”
    “Possibly, but they’re two different matters. What I’m doing to you is because I want to.” He kisses my neck again, inhales deeply, and makes a low, satisfied sound in his chest. “Damn, I was right in calling you sugar .”
    I want to yell in his ear, Pick a side! Good guy or bad boy? Go for it or run away? Instead I let the wall prop up my