As soon as the door clicks shut, Sasha throws my hand off her mouth. “That was amazing.”
“He’s onto us,” I whisper.
“Which is why I deserve another turn,” she says.
“Wait—”
But she’s already gone.
Three seconds later, and she’s sprinting back.
The door opens faster this time.
“Come on,” Beckett mutters into the hall. “Seriously?”
He steps farther out.
We press ourselves against the wall and hold our breath.
He walks a few paces in our direction, pauses, and looks around.
Then—rookie mistake—he goes back inside without rounding the corner.
“I could cry,” Sasha whispers. “That was so close.”
Levi tugs my sleeve. “It’s your turn, Aunt Madi.”
My stomach flips. “Wait. What?”
“You said we all get a turn.”
“I said no such thing.”
“Your turn,” Levi sings. “Your turn. Your tuuurn.”
“Fine.” I hold up a hand. “I’m going. But if I get caught, you tell your mother I was a good person.”
“You weren’t,” Sasha mutters.
“Not the point.”
I square my shoulders and take a few deep breaths.
This is the moment.
I take off at full speed, reach the door, knock three times, and spin.
I’m barely halfway turned when I hear the door whoosh open.
“Gotcha.”
Before I can even process the sound of his voice, a solid arm snakes around my waist and hauls me backward. A scream rips from my throat, cut short when I’m jerked flush against his chest. I’m flailing as my feet leave the floor.
He spins me around in his arms, but when we finally make eye contact, the breath leaves my lungs and never returns.
He’s very close. Too close. He smells of sleep and mint and something purely masculine. His eyes are narrowed, and his hand is still firmly clamped around my waist, holding me against him.
“What the hell are you doing, Madison?” he asks, his voice low and vibrating through my sternum.
