Page 7 of Fake Out Hearts

“What can I say? You’re unforgettable. And apparently, you really like Macallan whiskey,” I say as I hold up the bottle and swish it to demonstrate how much she’s already had. We’re already halfway through the bottle, and at this rate, it’ll be finished in the next few minutes.

“Actually, it’s the first time I’ve ever had it.”

“Really? I would’ve guessed Kaplan had expensive taste, so sounds like I chose wisely,” I say before hitting the bottle again myself. A buzz is already humming at the back of my head, but I can’t tell if that’s the whiskey or my nerves talking. And I don’t really care because I’m enjoying this so much. I could stand out here on the shore listening to the water and talking to Becca until the sun came up and never get tired of it.

“Are you ever gonna tell me what exactly it means to ‘sort of’ be a dancer?”

Becca shrugs. “It means I let a shitty man derail all my dreams. Just like my mom.”

Rage bubbles in my stomach, warring with the whiskey. If I didn’t already fucking hate Kaplan, I sure as hell would now. Becca is right, I don’t really know her that well at all. But I can already tell she’s sweet and genuine, a true princess, and Kaplan never deserved a second of her time.

If I ever get in a room alone with that asshole again…

Kaplan has no idea how badly he fucked up by driving her away like he did, but I resolve to make him see it by treating Becca the way she deserves—often and publicly. No amount of punches to his smug fucking face could ever substitute for the joy that would bring me. And I could really use more joy in my life right about now.

“You know what?” Becca says, her expression brightening a little. “I don’t want to think about anything sad right now. I want to do something fun.”

She starts toeing off her shoes as she speaks, and I cock my head at her

“What are you doing?”

“Come on,” she says and takes me by the hand, pulling me off the sidewalk and onto the sand beside it before I can object. Between the shifting sand and the swirling in my head, it’s hard to keep my balance, so she gets ahead of me. But eventually, I stumble up to her where she’s standing with her feet in the water as it laps back and forth up the beach.

Becca lifts a teasing eyebrow at me, her oversized jersey fluttering in the breeze that’s coming off the water. “Aren’t you going to join me? Or is the big bad hockey player scared of the ocean?”

“Oh, please. I’ve lived through Colorado winters. The Pacific doesn’t scare me in the slightest.”

“Then prove it. I dare you.”

“I’ll take that dare, princess.”

I kick off my own shoes on the sand behind us so they won’t get wet. The sand sifts between my toes, and the water comes rushing up the beach, soaking me and sending a chill tearing up my spine.

“Holy shit, that’s colder than I thought it would be!” I hiss, and Becca tosses her head back in laughter.

“Those Colorado winters must not be that cold,” she teases and starts moving farther into the water.

It’s up to her knees when she lets out a yelp and almost falls over, but my hand darts out like I’m interrupting a pass to catch her, pulling her against me. Her heaving chest presses into my side, and she glances up at me, her golden-brown eyes gleaming in the moonlight and searching my face.

We stare at each other, frozen, for what feels like forever. I keep her suspended like the world paused around us in the middle of a dance, and I feel her heartbeat pounding against my ribs. Mine is hammering just as hard. Maybe I never should’ve followed Becca, much less left with her.

And maybe this is all a terrible idea, but then why does it feel so right? And why does she fit perfectly in my arms?

Becca swallows hard and licks her lips. The way they sparkle in the moonlight stirs something in me, something urgent and dangerous, and I feel myself teetering on the edge of control. I want to kiss her, feel those luscious lips against mine. But I know we shouldn’t be doing this. She knows we shouldn’t be doing this. Yet neither of us moves.

Tension crackles between us, and I can see on her moonlit porcelain face that a flurry of thoughts are racing through her head too.

I lean forward, ignoring the voice in my head that’s warning me not to get myself tangled up in more of Kaplan’s drama. I know that’s exactly what I’m inviting, but with Becca in my arms, staring up at me with desire burning in her gorgeous brown eyes… I don’t care.

“Theo,” she whispers, just loud enough I can hear it over the water lapping against the shore.

“Fuck it,” I mutter, then drop my head to press my lips to hers.

Chapter 4

Becca

Theo kisses me with a hunger and passion I can’t ever remember feeling, and my body responds on its own, arching up into him. I’m a little dazed by it all and feeling like I’m living a dream sequence, but there’s no denying my attraction to him is real. And this is one dream I don’t want to wake up from. I want to savor it.

---