So much for being Jase's fantasy.

I stare at the woman standing before Jase far longer than is proper. In fact, my mother would say I am being rude, but I can't look away.

Her legs are insanely long and lean, her arms just as toned as a model's in a Victoria's Secret catalog. The sheer black top she wears reveals more than it conceals, and I'm struck with envy and jealousy so hard that green stars spark in my eyes.

There is no way I'm his fantasy. Everything about me is plump and pleasantly pleasing. Well, pleasing to everyone but my mother. While I've resigned myself to the fact that I'll never be slim or have a figure that can wear clothing straight off the rack and look good, Mother constantly signs me up for exercise classes and had our family doctor prescribe weight loss pills for me-whatever the latest fad was at the time.

Since I moved out, the emails from all those classes and pharmacies have stopped.

Jase's dark blue eyes settle on me, questioning my sudden appearance in his shop, it seems. Which seems strange, since Emmett is more than welcoming.

I turn away, focusing on the wall, on picture after picture of tattoos that had been framed. Some are cleverly designed, with an image within an image, while others jump out at me, capturing my attention in an instant. Each one has a story-this much I know.

"Anyway, if you need some help figuring our program," Emmett continues on, though I have no idea what he's saying, "I'm your guy."

"Thank you," I murmur, trying in vain to eavesdrop on Jase's conversation with the Victoria's Secret model.

"Next time, then," I hear the woman say, her voice all throaty as it carries across the room.

Had she asked him out and he turned her down? Why? Does he already have plans for this evening? Duh, Piper. Of course he has plans.

Jase isn't exactly known for being a solitary type since he's gotten out of jail-not that I can blame him. If I'd spent seven years locked away, I'd probably go nuts once I'd got out, too.

Like you did once you moved out of your parents' house?

Although that sounds terribly like a first-world type of problem, for the past twenty-four years my life has been spent inside a gilded cage. Pretty, safe, and comfortable, but a cage just the same.

It wasn't until I worked up the courage to move out seven months ago that I finally broke free, but free isn't all that it's cracked up to be. I'm slightly ashamed to admit that I had no idea how much responsibility for my own life would be dumped into my lap. Before now, I never worried about how much something cost or my half of the electric bill. Or that food was so freaking expensive.

I sigh thickly.

It's none of my business if he already has plans. We're not a couple. I haven't expressed my interest in dating to him...and omigosh, I sound like my mother. Not even my thoughts can escape her influence.

"Everything okay?" Jase asks, jolting me from my thoughts.

I turn to face him, the fierceness in his eyes rendering me speechless. He's still mad at me for going into that stupid passageway at his house.

"I...that is," I begin.

He takes a step closer, and I take an involuntary step back, then another. I need distance between us. I need to- "Stop moving," he orders with a scowl on his face.

I freeze.

His blue eyes darken. "Damn it, Piper, you don't have to do everything I say."

"Sorry. I'm used to following orders when they're given." It's the truth. Embarrassingly so. I've been trained like a good girl to always obey the first time.

His mouth quirks at the corner. "That some kind of daughter-of-a-cop thing?"

I nod. "My mother's more verbal about it, though."

"Your mother's a piece of work, if you don't mind my saying."

I arch a brow at him. "If you really thought I'd mind, you would have asked me if it was okay to insult my mother before you said something."

"There's those claws, kitten," he murmurs.

I blush fiercely at the nickname. "I told you not to call me that anymore."

He reaches out to touch my face, running his knuckles over my cheek. I want to lean into his touch, rub my face against him and purr contentedly like the feline he insists on calling me. I can't remember the last time anyone touched me like this, beyond the affectionate hugs from Rowan.

"It suits you, though, and at the time of that particular conversation, you were mad at me."

I inwardly wince at the memory. "I wasn't mad at you. Well, not until you said you'd start calling me princess instead."

His hand falls away and I want to snatch it back. I'm starved for human contact. Ridiculously so. But I don't. I keep my hands at my sides even as they clench into fists.

"I thought you forgave me for that?" he asks, searching my face.

"I did. I have," I insist. "Promise."

"What about earlier today? Can you forgive me for that, too?"

Here's my chance to ask about the consequences. Here's my chance to get everything out in the open. If Jase wanted to be with that other woman, he would have, but he chose to come to me instead. That has to count for something.

My lips part in anticipation and his gaze drops to my mouth. Desire pulses through me, and for a moment I'm lost in the feeling.

Suddenly, Emmett comes lumbering over, his dark eyes full of mischief. "Piper, I have your schedule. Ready to go over it?"

I nod, my heart sinking at the missed opportunity. When will I learn to stop overthinking and just go for it? "That's what I'm here for," I say cheerfully.

Jase grunts a little. "Good to know." He starts to walk away, but I grab his arm before I consider the ramifications or if Emmett will say something. Jase's brows crash together, his gaze going from my hand to my face.

Say something! "Have dinner with me."

"Tonight. You pick the place," I add, just so there isn't a misunderstanding.

His eyes widen slightly, as if he can't believe what I'm saying. Funny enough, I can't believe what I'm saying.

"Do I get to come, too?" Emmett asks.

"No," Jase growls before shooting his friend a look.

With a grin, Emmett holds up his hands and backs away. "Good to know where I stand," he calls out before disappearing into the back of the shop.

"You want to go to dinner with me?" he asks.

"Uh..." Say yes, Piper. "If you have time, or aren't already busy, I thought it would be good for us to get to know each other since we're living together, roomie."

"I've known you since you were fourteen, kitten," he points out.

My cheeks heat. "I know, but I'm-it's been seven years and maybe I've changed."

Jaw working, he shakes his head. "I sure as fuck hope not."

"Is that a no or a yes?" Please be yes.

"It's a yes. I'll drive." He grabs my hand, the same one that's still clutching at him. Fully expecting him to nicely push it away, I begin to draw back, but he does the unexpected. He laces his fingers in mine. Tremors of pleasure run through me, making my entire body shake.

Jase is touching me. Not only that, he's fulfilling one of my wildest fantasies by holding my hand. Gosh, I'm so lame. I need new fantasies. Ones with naked bodies.

"You okay on a bike?" he asks.

"With you I am." My skirt is long enough...I think.

His eyes narrow. "Who else you been riding with?" If I were any other woman, I'd think he was jealous, but I know that's not the case.

"Only you. I'm not brave enough to let anyone else take me out."

"You're braver than you think, and even better than that, you're sweet," he says in a low voice.

"Do you...is that something you like in other, er...people? Or something?" I flounder for words, desperate to be sophisticated and for him to see me as more than just Piper, his sister's best friend, or Piper, the girl afraid of her own shadow, or Piper, the wallflower.

"No comparison," he says simply. "I'm ready to eat, if you are."

"Uh, schedule?" Emmett reminds me.

"You can email her."

"But she's already here."

"She needs to eat." Jase doesn't take his eyes off of me. "Ready?"

Wordlessly, I nod and follow him outside, my hand still clasped in his. When we get to his bike, he finally lets go of me and grabs his helmet. "This is a little big, but it will keep you safe until I can get another one in your size."

My size? Does this mean he plans on letting me ride with him a lot?

He slips the helmet over my head and tightens the chin strap, his fingers brushing my neck. I shiver. "Baby, you have got to stop being so scared of me."

"I'm not scared of you." I'm scared of never getting the chance to be with you.

Seconds pass as he weighs my words.

Meeting his gaze head-on, I use the opportunity to take in my fill of this beautiful, sexy man. We are opposites in every way. I'm short. He's tall. I'm dark and pale. He's sun-kissed from his head to his toes. He's cut and lean, and is inked with works of art, while I'm plump and curvy, and the only time my skin has ever had ink on it was when I accidentally on purpose used a marker to draw a flower on my arm. Mother had scrubbed and scrubbed at the flower while lecturing me on the friends I kept. She didn't stop until it had bled and I had cried out in pain.

"Don't be so dramatic, Piper. No one likes a drama queen, especially men," she said, abruptly leaving me to my latest nanny's care.

"Piper?"

I blink up at Jase. "I'm fine. Really. Sometimes I'm a bit dramatic. Won't happen again." I give him a smile, though I don't think he can see it since the helmet only shows him my eyes.

"Uh-huh," he says, skepticism in his eyes. "You want to try again."

It's not a question. "Childhood memories that have nothing to do with you."

"Much better." He swings a long leg over his bike. "Don't lie to me again, Piper."

"I won't," I promise. Now if only he would ask the right questions.

"Get on and wrap your arms around me tight."

Nervous and giddy at the opportunity, I force myself to walk and not run to him so I can climb on. Once I'm in place and make sure I'm not flashing my panties to the entire world, I allow myself to process how hard and muscular he is. Surreptitiously, I let my fingers explore his abs through his shirt while pretending that I'm readjusting my grip.

"You done feeling me up?" he asks and my hands freeze.

"What?" I croak.

"You heard me," he says, turning so that I can see the smile on his sexy face.

"Sorry," I say sheepishly.

"Are you?"

Slowly, I shake my head. "No. I'm not."

He sucks in a breath, as if he wasn't expecting that kind of answer from me. I wasn't expecting that kind of answer from me.

Without another word, he faces forward again and starts up his bike, then drives out of the parking lot.

Jase

The ride into the NoDa section of Charlotte was my own version of hell. The feel of her warm body pressed tightly against mine was the sweetest torture I've ever experienced. A reminder of what is so tantalizingly within my reach yet so completely forbidden to me. Worse, now I know what she feels like, almost every lush inch of her.

And you get to do it all over again once dinner is over, dumbass, I remind myself.

I'm out of my mind for agreeing to go to dinner with her, but I can't help myself. I swear to God, if she crooks a finger at me, I will come running to do her bidding because I can't stop thinking about her answer when I asked if she was sorry for touching me.

Which means not a fucking thing in the grand scheme of things.

In the days that led up to her moving in with me, I'd played out every scenario that could happen between us, and not a single one of them ended in a happily ever after.