She rolls her eyes.
“It shows you have passion.” I grin.
“Yeah, right. You need to know. People will ask.” She stares up at me, a challenge in her eyes. “When did you fall for me, Decker?”
Her skin looks buttery soft in the dim light of my room. I want to reach up and touch it, but I refrain. It feels too… intimate. I don’t know if she’d let me, but I want to. Every time she opens her mouth—even when it’s to insult me—I learn a littlemore about her, like her a little more. If I were to answer her question, I think it would be kind of like that. I fell for her little by little until it was so completely undeniable, I had to confess. She watches me expectantly, her eyes dipping to my mouth. I chew my lip, wondering if I should tell her my newest piece to add to our fabrication.
A knock on the door pulls our attention, and before I know what’s happening, Lena’s hands are fisting the hem of my shirt, a rush of chilled air shocking my bare skin.
“Quick! Come here,” she whispers.
Her warm fingers graze my obliques as she pushes to her tiptoes, bringing our faces just inches away. Without a second thought, I take her lead, closing the space between us and letting my mouth find hers. For a split second, she hesitates, her lips stiff against mine. And then they soften, parting ever so slightly to pull my bottom lip between hers. It takes me by surprise, finally awakening my rigid arms. They wrap around her waist, pulling her in as she tugs the edge of my shirt tighter. She sinks further into me, and all I can taste, smell, and feel is Lena. I can’t deny how easy this feels. Howreal.
And then she stops. And steps back. Leaving me slack-jawed and wanting more.
“Sorry, sorry.” Maleko’s big hands flatten over his eyes like he truly interrupted something.
Lena giggles, stepping closer again and reaching to my face. She draws a thumb across my bottom lip, and my jaw snaps shut. “Sorry about the lipstick. Been waiting to do that all night. I couldn’t hold back anymore.” She turns toward Maleko. “It’s okay. You can look.”
He peeks between his fingers before shoving his hands into his pockets.
"I didn’t know you were… that you were both in here… I didn’t mean to—I'm sorry," he fumbles.
“Chill, Maleko. It’s fine,” I say.
“It’s just that there’s a girl standing on your island threatening to show everyone her backflip? And that it’s just as good as it used to be? I don’t know. She won’t get down.”
"Joss,” Lena groans. She bolts toward Maleko, stopping in the doorway to flash him a quick smile. “Thanks. I’m Lena, by the way.”
“Maleko.” He inclines his head.
And then she’s off to rescue her friend—or everyone else from her friend—like nothing ever happened. Like she didn’t just kind of make out with me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
LENA
I thinkI just kind of made out with Decker.
I stomp down the hall, threading my way through the bodies clogging it. There’s no time to think about what I just did. What he just did? My brain hurts as it racks itself for an explanation. I was only getting closer to him, so we looked like… Well, like what a couple looks like when they’re alone in a bedroom. It wasn’t an invitation for him to kiss me. That’s not what I was hoping for, right? My brain is a jumble of lips and green eyes and his firm chest against mine. For pretending, that felt pretty real.
The kitchen is even more crowded than the hall, but I spot Joss easily. She’s toddling along the surface of the island, dodging attempts from various very large men to snatch her down. Maybe she should have taken up football.
“Excuse me! Sorry!” I smile and try to act happy and bright when I feel anything but. Any little light that had been ignited moments ago with Decker in his bedroom has been extinguished. Why tonight, Joss? I’m used to her antics, and typically I find them entertaining, but not tonight. Not when the only reason I’m here is to make good on my deal with Decker, for both him and me. We’re supposed to be the ones putting on the show. Even from the floor I can see that Joss is too drunk to behere. Her eyes are red and watery, almost like she’s been crying, and maybe she has after her heated phone call earlier, but I know booze is the other culprit. Themain culprit. Judging by the red spillage down the front of her once-white shirt, I’d say she’s had quite a few more in the short span of being left unattended. Assuming that the rest of the drinks made it into her mouth, that is.
I grab her ankle. "Joss, my love! Time to go!”
She shakes me free, whipping into a wild dance.
Someone behind me snickers. The bass thumps, and the scent of beer permeates the air. It’s a far cry from the spotless place I’d seen the first time Decker brought me here.
"Joss! I need you!” I try again.
She ignores me, dancing some teetering two-step to the other side of the island. Phones whip out in my peripherals, but a handful of them are swatted down as soon as they appear by large, grumpy-looking men. Kings players. And they like their privacy. I can respect that. Just as I’m about to mount the island too, one of the grumpy dudes steps closer, calling up to Joss. It’s Cole. To my shock—and a little to my surprise—she listens to him. They exchange a few words, and within seconds, her face is split in a double-wide smile as she hops into his arms. His grumpy expression wipes clean when she lands a sloppy kiss on his cheek before bouncing out of his hold.
“Lena! You’re here!” Joss says, tumbling in my direction.
“I sure am. And I’m ready to go.”
