“Bliss.”
The deep voice pulled me back instantly, Cade had crossed the room without me noticing. That alone felt dangerous.
Up close, he smelled faintly like clean soap, cedar, and cold night air. Calm. Expensive. Male in that unfairly specific way hockey players always were after showers and ruining lives recreationally.
“You made it,” he said.
My pulse did one stupid little skip. “We were promised high alcohol content beverages and probable deniability. It felt rude not to come.”
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. Not a full smile and that just made it worse.
Behind me, Charm silently mouthed,Oh my goodness.
I ignored her and rolled my eyes. “I was going to text you.”
“About?”
“A project I need your help on.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I just—”
“Bliss!” Briggs shouted suddenly from across the room. “Get over here. Rider says he can beat you at beer pong, and I personally find that offensive on your behalf.”
Rider lifted his beer from the dining room entrance. “I said probably.”
“Same thing!”
I laughed despite myself.
Cade glanced toward the dining room before looking back at me. “You play?”
“I have five brothers,” I said. “I came out of the womb knowing how to throw things competitively.”
His laugh caught me completely off guard. It was low and quick and real enough that something warm unfolded stupidly beneath my ribs before I could stop it.
Dangerous… Very dangerous.
“I wanted to ask,” I started again, “if maybe you’d be willing to hear me out about this human-interest project because I think you’d actually be really—”
“Bennett!” Briggs yelled again. “Move your cute little ass!”
I stared toward the dining room. “Did he just say my ass was cute or I am cute?”
“Yes,” Cade said, smiling. “Unfortunately, that’s progress for him.”
I laughed again.
Big mistake, because suddenly Cade looked at me differently for half a second. Softer maybe. More focused. Like hearing me laugh had done something weird to his internal wiring.
Before either of us could recover, Briggs appeared out of nowhere, hooked an arm around my shoulders, and immediately started dragging me backward toward the dining room like this was freshman year biology all over again and I was once again being forced to keep him alive academically and socially.
“Absolutely not,” I protested through laughter.
“You’re needed.”
“For what?”
