Page 64 of The Rookie

But my fingers curl tighter around his, and he notices.

So are you,I want to say, but I keep quiet.

Griffin pulls back just enough to look at me, and his mouth curves into that slow, knowing smirk. “You’re blushing again,” he murmurs, his thumb sweeping over the back of my hand like he’s testing the feel of my skin.

I hate that he can read me so well. “You know what I think?”

I lift my chin, forcing my voice to stay even. “Tell me more. Since you seem to know everything about me. Oh wise one.”

His laugh is low, amused. “I think you think you’re a good girl, Avery. You’ve always been that way.”

My pulse stutters. “IthinkI’m a good girl? So I’m not actually one?”

“Oh, come on. You’re an honors student. You do everything for everyone else. Remember when Cassie got in that accident senior year and you’d sleep over with her almost every night to make sure she was okay? You’re a fucking angel and you know it. A perfectionist. Your entire reputation is built on not letting the people down who you care about. And I fucking love that about you, actually.”

The memory flickers through my mind, unbidden. That had been a long, exhausting few months. It’s been years, but hearing him remember it—saying it like he’s been keeping track of me this whole time—does something strange to my chest.

I swallow, suddenly unsteady. “What are you getting at?”

His grip tightens at my waist. “I want to do some very bad things to you, Avery. You’ve haunted my dreams for too long. I’ve got plans for you. Haven’t you ever wanted to break the rules…even just once?”

The heat behind his words sends a thrill through me, and I hate that my body reacts before my brain does. A slow burn spreads from my stomach, curling lower, and I swear he can see it all over my face.

“I…I don’t know, Griffin,” My voice barely comes out. “Yes. Maybe.”

His lips brush the shell of my ear, his voice dropping into a growl that makes my knees weak. “You better tell me your safe word now, Sinclair.”

My breath catches. I should laugh, brush him off, act like he’s just messing with me. But the way his voice has dipped into something low and dangerous tells me he’s dead serious.

I swallow. "Red Rose."

His lips barely ghost over the shell of my ear. “Good girl.” The heat in his voice pools low in my stomach. “And your ‘go word?’”

My pulse pounds. This is happening. He’s actually asking.

My lips part, and I barely manage to whisper, “Green Leaves.”

Griffin’s grip tightens just a fraction at my waist, like he’s committing it to memory, and then—just as my breath hitches—he leans in further, his mouth brushing so close to my ear I feel the ghost of his lips against my skin.

“Later,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with promise. “I’m going to lay you out on my bed, spread you open, and make you beg for me. And when I’m done, you’re going to be so wrecked, Sinclair, you won’t be able to think about anything else.”

A shudder racks through me, heat rushing to my cheeks so fast I know it’s obvious. I have no defense, no witty comeback, just the sheer effort of holding myself together when my entire body is betraying me.

And then—just like that—he pulls back. His expression is maddeningly composed, his hand still resting against my waist like hedidn’t justwhisper the filthiest thing ever into my ear.

I exhale sharply, trying to collect myself, but before I can, he smirks and tugs me back toward the group.

The second we step into the circle, all eyes are on us.

“Uh, what the hell was that?” Kayla asks, narrowing her eyes between us.

I force a nonchalant shrug, willing my pulse to slow. “Oh, nothing.”

Griffin lets out a low chuckle beside me, taking a sip of his drink like he didn’t just destroy my ability to think straight.

“Nothing?” Kayla repeats, skeptical.

Griffin tilts his head, his eyes flashing. “Sure. Just a little friendly conversation. How were my moves?”

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