Foreman wasn't sure what to make of Amber's list at first. She couldn't really compare those tiny thefts to his juvenile record. He'd barely scraped through without having to serve a sentence in the young offenders' centre. The fact that it was his first conviction and that his dad had been been nearly shaking with anger beside him when he'd agreed to community service and probation instead were the only things that had saved him. They hadn't saved Marcus, two years later. Amber might have shoplifted for a scavenger hunt--for a game--but that wasn't anywhere near as serious. He shouldn't have told her. She didn't really understand.

Or maybe she did. Partly, in any case--the thrill, the excitement, that she'd obviously felt before. Foreman's eyes widened at the low sound of Amber's voice. The way her teeth caught her lower lip on the word fun had him thinking along other lines completely. She'd wanted to fuck him right on the dance floor of the last place she'd taken him. At the time he'd thought she'd meant it as a tease, adding to the intensity of their flirtation, and he'd laughed it off. Amber wouldn't back down, though, he knew that now. Her eyes were dark, and the idea of doing something completely stupid when anyone might catch them fired up Foreman's imagination, his stomach tightening with a quick flutter of nerves and arousal.

He clinked her glass when she offered a toast, a slow smile spreading as his heart beat more strongly. "To having fun," he said, "without getting caught."