The Fake Out (Vancouver Storm, #2)

I wonder if her nipples are the same color. I wonder if they’d taste as soft and sweet under my tongue. If her breath would catch the same way, or if it would be more of a gasp. Or maybe a moan.

My eyes trace over the lines of her dress, the arc of dark fabric over each breast, and the slight swell of cleavage. I rest a hand on the shelf above her head, dragging a deep breath in. This small space smells like her—her hair products, her perfume, everything about her—and it’s making liquid heat pool in my groin.

Fuck. I want her.

“What’s that look?”

My gaze snaps up to meet her funny, amused smile. My throat works, and I clench my fists so I don’t sink them into those soft waves of hers again. Fuck the game. We could just stay in this closet for the rest of the night.

“I’m thinking about how much taller than you I am.”

She snorts, and the corner of her mouth slides up.

Fuck being subtle.

“Are you thinking about it?” I ask.

Her breath turns choppy. “About what?”

“When we kissed.”

“No.” At her side, she rubs her fingertips against each other. “I haven’t thought about it once.”

“Liar,” I whisper.

Her eyes flare. “Rory,” she breathes. She says it like she’s saying we can’t, but her eyes search mine.

She wants to kiss me again, too. I know she does.

“Not ‘Miller’?”

In the dim, dappled rainbow light through the door, I watch her throat work. “I mean, we’re friends now. Right?” Her eyes flick up to mine, questioning. “After Wednesday.”

Friends is one step closer to what I want with her, and I’m not going to mess this up.

“Yeah.” My voice is barely a whisper. “Friends.”

Her mouth eases into a smile of relief, and I want to kiss her again. Once tonight wasn’t enough. I don’t know if ten times would be enough. No matter how much I touch her, how much time we spend together, it’s never enough.

There’s a loud rumbling noise, and we snap out of whatever’s happening.

“Come out, come out,” Owens calls, and Hartley’s eyes widen as we listen to the sound of doors opening and closing. He’s making his way up the hall, and he’s going to find us.

“Rory,” she whispers, holding up the Nerf gun. “We’re out of ammo.”

“Shit.” We stare at each other. “We need to run.”

She nods, biting her bottom lip, starting to smile.

“Are you having fun?” I ask, grinning, and she nods again, smiling wider. “Good.” I take her hand, so soft and delicate in mine. “Ready?”

“Ready.”





CHAPTER 19





RORY





I throw the door open, and we sprint down the hall, away from Owens.

“Oh, ho, ho,” he calls after us, and Hazel lets out a shriek of laughter that sends happiness and joy streaking through me.

I’m flying. I’m on top of the world with her laughing with me like this. She’s holding my hand as tightly as I’m holding hers as we swing around the corner, and this feels like everything I’ve been missing in life. My pulse pounds in my ears as I take in Hartley’s bright eyes and face, flushed from exertion. Her chest rising and falling fast. The slender line of her throat as she swallows, still watching me.

“Hartley,” I hiss, picking a fully loaded Nerf gun off a side table.

She gasps in delight, and I feel like king of the universe. I hand it to her. She takes aim, and Owens bounds around the corner. Hartley lets the pellets fly and they hit him in the chest.

He deflates with disappointment. “Come on.”

Hartley shrugs, beaming. “Pay up, Owens.”

He pulls his Polaroid out of his jacket and hands it to her before hooking his arm around her neck, pretending to choke her as she laughs.

“See you two downstairs,” he says, letting her go and handing me his Nerf gun. He lowers his voice and leans in. “McKinnon’s on the third floor.”

Hartley’s eyes light up with competitive focus, and we creep up to the third floor, quiet as thieves, listening with rapt attention as we move through the rooms.

A phone dings in the next room over, and we freeze.

“That’s gotta be him,” she breathes, looking over at the door that leads to that room. She chews her lip, probably thinking the same thing I am: he could be waiting and ready on the other side.

“There’s another door from the hall,” I whisper in her ear, smiling when she shudders.

“It’s too risky.” Her mouth tilts. “This is so stupid.”

“Yeah.” I nod. “But it’s fun.”

She nods, smiling up at me.

“I’m going to lure him out.”

Her eyes widen in surprise. “What? No.”

“Yes.” I want her to win this. Fuck that guy. “You want to win, don’t you?”

“I want us to win.” She blinks. “Together.”

The thing is, watching Hartley win would feel like winning.

“We’re a team,” she adds, and that’s all I need to hear.

“So let me be a team player.”

Off her reluctant nod, I walk out and stride down the hallway, hands in my pockets, whistling a cheerful tune. When I pass the room where he’s lounging on a couch, texting on his phone, his head snaps up. A moment later, a foam pellet hits my back.

I sigh, and when I turn, his nostrils flare with irritation at my stupid grin. “Gosh darn it. You got me, McKinnon.”

Behind him, Hazel steps into the hall, standing tall with eyes full of fire. The hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

McKinnon gives me a dirty look. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I won, motherfucker.”

The crack echoes in the hallway as Hartley sends the Nerf pellet flying, and McKinnon flinches, turning. “What the—”

Hartley’s grin stretches ear to ear, and I match it.

“You’re out,” she says to him.

The look on his face when he realizes we played him? It’s fucking glorious.

“Fuck,” he snaps. “Stupid fucking game.”

Hazel holds a hand out. “Give me your picture.”

He rips it off the chain around his neck and tosses it at her. She catches it, watching with a feline grin as he stomps down the hall.

“He was always a sore loser,” Hazel says quietly, and her nose wrinkles.

Fuck, I love that she won. “You’re ruthless.”

She’s smiling up at me, and I could stay right here in this moment forever. “I’m a dragon, aren’t I?” Her eyes linger on mine, teasing me, lighting my blood on fire.

She glances over her shoulder at McKinnon still walking down the hall, before she loops her arm around my neck and hauls my mouth to hers.

A groan rips out of me from deep in my chest as her lips meet mine. Her mouth is hot, soft, so fucking pliant and sweet and giving as I sink into her. My hands frame her jaw, tilting her open more, and when I suck on the tip of her tongue, she makes a startling, needy moaning noise that goes straight to my cock.

Holy shit. Holyfuckingshit. Hartley’s kissing me and there’s not a soul around to see.

“Fucking hell, Hartley,” I rasp between kisses. “You kiss like a fucking champ.”

Her laugh is light and breathy against my skin, and I nip her bottom lip, watching the way her eyelashes flutter.

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