Well . . . damn.
I suck in my bottom lip as my eyes flit to his mouth, then back to his gaze. I lift on my toes and move my hand to his jaw, closing my eyes as my lips press to his. His body quivers in reaction, the tremor tiny but present, and his breath hitches from my touch. I’m not sure if it’s surprise at being kissed, or relief at being forgiven. And I’m not completely sure I havejust yet.
But I do know I believe he’s trying to be a good guy. It’s not his fault that I don’t believe it’s possible for people in his line of work. At least, not all the time. But I can let this thing with us play out a little longer. Until the next time something hurts.
Chapter 19
Hunter
My little white lie about identity theft turned into an entire organizational—and mandatory—training on best practices for keeping your personal information safe. I think Roddy’s on to my lie, because he keeps using me as an example every time he asks or answers a question from our facilitator.
This isnothow the guys wanted to spend their day off.
“Now, remember to keep your passwords protected?—”
“You got that, Hunter?” Roddy hollers from the other side of the room. I don’t make eye contact.
“Yup, already secured. Thank you, buddy,” I respond.
He’s pissed.
“Sure thing,buddy,” he replies.
Very pissed.
The facilitator walks the aisles of the lecture-style meeting room Coach rented at the university for today’s workshop, passing out packets with more information along with her company’s services to help clear names in the event of identity theft. She pauses at my desktop and taps on the phone number at the top of the brochure.
“They can really do a number on your credit. Call if we can help, or if you find things are worse than you thought.”
I force a pleasant smile and nod.
“I will. Thank you.”
I fold the brochure in half and stuff it in the back pocket of my jeans as I get up from my table. A few of the guys sitting near me pound fists and offer their condolences for my financial loss.Fucking hell.
Roddy maneuvers his way from the other side of the room, his eyes focused on me like angry little laser beams. I try to look away, but his giant frame cuts off my exit, and soon his hand is on my chest.
“Hang back a second. I have some questions for you.” He nods goodbye to the stragglers leaving the room, then tugs me by the sleeve of my Mavericks hoodie to the back corner of the room, away from the facilitator packing up her projector and business cards.
“What’s up?” I drop my hands into my front pockets and force my eyes wide and interested, but Roddy calls bullshit right away with a quick smack to my chest.
“Knock that shit off. Nobody believes you left early for identity theft. What’s really going on? Are you working a trade? You knock someone up from your past? Spill it, kid.”
I shake my head wildly, trying to wrap my mind around some of his theories.
“What? No! I did notknock someone up.”
I mean . . . I don’t think I did. Renleigh and I have been pretty active, but she said she has an IUD, and?—
“Man, stop putting that stuff in the universe. No, nothing like that at all. I had someone hack my bank card,” I lie. One more run up the flagpole with this plan.
Roddy’s hand thumbs my chest again, and this time it hurts because he literally flicks my breastbone with his fucking enormous fingers.
“Owwww,” I whine, rubbing the spot.
“Are you two all right?” the facilitator eyeing us asks.
We both hold up our hands.
