Duet (Can't Help It Book 2) by Leigh Ophelia

Author:Leigh, Ophelia
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-14T00:00:00+00:00

7 DO YOU WANT TO LOVE ME? / I'M NEVER SURE

JOHNNY | BERLIN

“Thank you, thank you, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” The cash Jesse hands me goes safely into my front pocket.

“Here.” She hands over my passport. “Don’t lose this.”

“Yes, Mom. I won’t. Promise.” That goes into the inside pocket of my jacket. I won’t need it, but even I know better than to roam around a foreign city without ID. Adjusting the wool cap over my head, I turn to Jesse and shrug. “I wouldn’t look twice at me.”

She laughs, rests her hand on my shoulder. “Good luck. Call me if you get stuck. Oh, and the car’s out front. With the stuff already in it.”

“Go,” I tell her. “Have a night. Remember, I’ve got a fever. I have to look either dead to the world or well-rested tomorrow. I won’t stay out all night.”

After Jesse lets herself out, I double-check the person looking back at me from the mirror. This coat, filled with hidden pockets, is drab and oversized. Between that and the cap hiding my hair, I’ll blend in about as well as I ever do. With any luck, Lila and I will be just one more couple among all the other couples.

Carrying cash feels strange. During the tour I’m never supposed to be in a situation where I have occasion to use it. Management always treats us like children—it’s not for nothing I kept a close watch on Deke and the accounting.

Breaking the rules is so liberating. Tucking my phone and room keys into my pocket with my passport, I close the door on this ridiculous suite with the dining room and grand piano and picture-window view of the city. The couple walking down the hall don’t even give me a second glance. Perfect.

Three floors below, I knock at Lila’s door right on time. Well, a few minutes late, because time is mutable. She pulls the door open, looks me up and down, and laughs.

“That bad?”

She tugs at the edge of the wool cap. “Actually, you look cute. In a sixteen-year-old sort of way.”

“Reliving my misspent youth.” I follow her in. She’s in jeans and her combat boots, with a SUNY sweatshirt and that gorgeous black leather motorcycle jacket. Her hair’s back in a long braid, which is its own kind of breathtaking. As usual, her lips are cherry, eyes made up to perfection.

“You’re staring,” she says.

“You’re beautiful.” I’ll never apologize for appreciating good looks. “And shorter.”

Lila looks down at her boots and laughs. “You said dress for a quick getaway. I better be able to run.”

“Beautiful, shorter, and smart. I approve.”

She tucks her key into her pocket. “Where are we going?”

That’s a secret. For the trouble of asking, Lila gets a shrug and a smile. She double-checks she’s got everything she needs before gesturing to the door. “Well, if you’re gonna behave like some international man of mystery, you better lead the way.”

Already, I feel like smiling. It’s not only because I

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