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control?
    “And when we finally find the person—that special person that we want to dedicate ourselves to—what better gift is there to give him or her than our body, untouched and undefiled? What a way to say, ‘You’re the most important person in my world. I waited for you .’”
    That last sentiment had gotten Kira a cheer from her audience.
    Chase, on the other hand, didn’t know how to react. Obviously Kira didn’t really believe the things she was saying. But what parts of it were true, which were just rhetoric? Was their affair simply a case of hormones out of control? Or did it make him special—someone worthy of her “gift”?
    Of course it was the former. They’d had sex in a stockroom, for crying out loud. It was completely hormone incited. For some reason, admitting that to himself made him feel bitter.
    It also strengthened his resolve to get his story, to “out” the girl who was messing with his head.
    Soon, the microphone and speakers were down and the crowd lightened. Kira shouted after the group she’d been chatting with. “I’ll meet you over there.”
    Then she was finally alone. Chase watched her gather her belongings into her shoulder bag. This was his chance. He walked up to the stage, catching her as she stepped off the bottom step. “Kira?”
    “Yeah?” She turned toward him, her eyes so bright and her smile so pure, Chase’s knees nearly buckled.
    Then she recognized him. He saw the moment it happened too—her expression fell, her face lost its color. “Oh. It’s you.”
    She looked so horrified at the sight of him that he almost felt bad. Almost. “Yep. It’s me. Chase. Chase Matthews.”
    Kira scanned the area around them. Apparently satisfied they were alone, she visibly relaxed. She lowered her eyes, a blush touching her cheeks. “I remember your name.” Her voice was soft, flirty, even.
    “You do?” He hadn’t really thought she wouldn’t recall who he was. Just, all of a sudden, he wasn’t sure what to say.
    “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?” She pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear and for half a second he wished it were him touching her hair, touching her ear, kissing her ear.
    Stop it, man. Focus on your task—get the story.
    He forced his gaze away and shrugged. “I don’t know. No reason.”
    God, he had to get a hold of himself. This was not going to get him the article he wanted, the article he needed . He took a step toward her and leaned his arm against the proscenium of the shell. Not that he required the support. He simply thought he looked cooler like that. More in control.
    He took a silent breath to steady his nerves. “I guess I’m just surprised to see you again. Especially under these circumstances.”
    “You’re surprised to find I’m a Cherry Saver, you mean.”
    “Well, yes.” He hadn’t been prepared for her bluntness. So much for being the one in control.
    He could do this. If she could be straight forward, so could he. “Because I’m pretty sure you didn’t actually save your cherry.”
    “I suppose you would be pretty sure of that, wouldn’t you?”
    Her cheeks grew pinker and he felt a stab to his groin. God, she looked gorgeous like that—all flushed and innocent. Even wearing that stupid-ass t-shirt. “Yes. Very sure.” For a moment he was taken back to that night, to her legs wrapped around his waist, to those sweet, sweet sounds that still vibrated in his ears.
    Dammit, how did she screw with his focus so easily?
    He ran a hand over his face. “Which is why I’m confused. I’m sure you can understand.”
    “I can.”
    But that was all she offered. No explanation, just those two words. This was going to be tougher than he thought. “So why, then? Why did you get up there and play Princess Cherry Saver when you don’t believe any of that crap?”
    She moved around him to the back of the band shell, gesturing for him to follow.
    Good. Now they were in a more private location.
    Wait— was that good?