Page 67 of The Rookie

But, damn.

The way she looks tonight—flushed from the drinks, her chestnut hair falling around her face, that soft pink dress thatdefinitelywasn’t meant to torment me—I can’t help but grin like an idiot every time she laughs.

Somewhere between Jake’s next round of wild confessions and Kayla trying to flag down the waiter for more chips, I realize I haven’t stopped looking at Avery all night.

She’s been laughing and sipping her drink, cheeks flushed, her chestnut hair spilling around her face like it was meant to be worn just like that. The soft blush pink of her dress hugs her body in ways Ishouldn’tbe noticing, but I do anyway.

“So I’m properly hammered,” Jake says, draining the last of his margarita. “Shall we head back?”

“I’ll pay the tab and get us a cab,” I volunteer, desperate for something to do with my hands besides fidget like some lovesick idiot.

Kayla perks up as she pushes back her chair. “Is the hotel pool still open?”

Avery and I shoot each other a look, our eyes locking for just a beat too long. I wonder if she’s as relieved as I am that Jake and Kayla are going to act as group chaperones tonight because if we were alone…

Well.

The thought shouldn’t make my pulse pick up like this.

Avery raises an eyebrow. “What was that look?”

“Nothing,” I reply quickly. But as I stand, I notice the way her fingers play with the hem of her dress. She’s glowing under the string lights, still as put-together as ever. It’s not fair how effortlessly gorgeous she looks.

As we trail behind Jake and Kayla, I can’t stop glancing at her out of the corner of my eye.She’sthe one I’ve known for years, but somehow she’s still this puzzle I can’t figure out. All sharp edges and soft smiles, guarded but soalivetonight.

“Everything okay?” Avery asks, catching me staring.

I don’t answer at first. I just keep looking at her—the pink of her dress, the dip of her neckline, the way her hair glimmers in the soft glow of the patio lights. I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore.

I pause, clearing my throat. “More than okay.Que noche más linda.”

Avery tilts her head, smirking slightly. “It’s just such a beautiful night?”

“Exactly,” I say, holding her gaze. “It’s hard not to appreciate it when you’re around.”

She narrows her eyes playfully, but I catch the way her cheeks flush just slightly. “Mmm. I love it when you speak in Spanish to me.”

Something about that catches me off guard—makes me want to say something dumb and reckless, like how I’d speak Spanish to her every day just to see her smile like that.

Instead, I pull out my phone and hold it up. “Come here.”

“What are you doing?” she asks warily.

“Taking a picture. Come on, Sinclair. You look nice tonight. I want to remember it.”

Avery rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at her lips as she steps closer. “Fine. One picture.”

I hold the phone up and lean in next to her. Her shoulder brushes mine, and I swear my heart does this weird fluttery thing I’m too proud to admit out loud.

“Smile,” I say, trying to sound casual when I’m anything but.

She tilts her face toward me, her smile soft but genuine. I snap the photo, and for a second, I forget to breathe because the screen doesn’t lie.

She’s stunning.

And me? I’m the idiot grinning like I just won the lottery.

“Let me see,” she says, leaning in to peek at the screen.

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