I flop onto my back, grinning up at the ceiling like the menace I am. “Relax, big brother. My scheme doesn’t involve your precious wife.”
maverick
. . .
Reed’s got us tucked into a quiet back corner. Catalina’s still high off bookstore adrenaline, her voice bouncing off the walls as she recaps every single customer interaction to Carter, who, of course, looks like he’d let her talk for the rest of his life and call it heaven.
I’m sipping a beer, barely listening.
Because Amelia is catching all of my damn attention.
Amelia’s leaned against the wall near the pool table, scrolling through her phone. Her black hair is out of the ponytail now, cascading down her back in soft waves.
My beer is halfway to my mouth, but I’m not drinking it. I’m just staring like an idiot, mesmerized by how the dim light catches the edges of her tattoos.
God, her neck tattoo is going to be the death of me.
Amelia pushes off the wall and walks toward the bathroom hidden in the dimly lit hallway.
I know I shouldn’t fucking follow her, but I do anyway, against better judgment.
She slightly turns, her green eyes meeting mine, with her signature scowl between her eyebrows.
“Is this your thing now?” she asks, arms crossed under her chest. “Trailing behind me like some kind of overgrown puppy?”
I grin, letting my steps slow. “You say that like you don’t like it.”
She scoffs, leaning back against the wall. The hallway’s dim, shadows clinging to the curve of her neck, the monarch butterfly glowing underneath the pale light.
Her eyes burn into me, and fuck if I don’t want her to keep looking at me like that forever.
“You think I like being followed around?” she shoots back, tilting her chin up.
“I don’t think,” I declare, stepping closer. “I know you love the attention, especially mine.”
Her lips curve, not quite a smile, more like a dare. “Arrogant much?”
I let my gaze drag deliberately down her body and back up, slow as hell, until I’m right at her sexy little mouth again. My voice drops an octave. “Just observant. You cross your arms every time I get close. Not to push me away, but to hold yourself together.”
Her throat bobs, and she rolls her eyes, trying to play it cool. “Please. You’re not that hard to resist.”
I grin, leaning one hand on the wall beside her head, crowding her just enough. “Baby, if I kissed you right now, you’d melt so fast you wouldn’t remember what resisting even feels like.”
Her lips curl into that smug little smirk that makes me insane. She tilts her chin up, green eyes flashing. “Wrong,” she says, pointing a finger into my chest. “You’d be the one begging, Hayes. Begging me to keep going, and begging me not to stop.”
My stomach knots tight, heat crawling up my neck. “The fuck I would,” I rasp, even though the image of me on my knees for her is now burned into my brain.
Who am I kidding? I’d definitely be on my knees for her.
Amelia doesn’t back down as she steps in closer, such a little thing, barely reaching my ribs.
She gets on her tippy toes, grabbing the hem of my shirt, yanking me down until our noses are practically touching. “Oh, you would. You already look like you’re about to drop to your knees for me.”
I bite back a groan, my hand gripping the wall as I pin her against it. “Keep talking like that, dollface, and I swear to God, I’ll show you just how much begging I can make you do.”
She lets out a breathy laugh that almost sounds like a moan. “Prove it, quarterback.”
My cock throbs just from the way she says it. I lean out of her grasp, getting a real good look at her pretty, flushed face.
