Page 68 of The Rookie

“Perfect,” I say before she can comment. I lock the phone quickly, shoving it back in my pocket like it’s some kind of secret I need to protect.

Avery smirks, like she’s onto me. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” I reply, unable to stop my own grin. “But I’m right about the picture.”

She doesn’t argue, and as we keep walking, I know—thatphoto is going to mean more than it should. It’s going to haunt me later, when I’m back home and this trip is over.

But for now, I don’t let myself think about that.

For now, I just enjoy the fact that Avery Sinclair is still walking next to me, her dress swishing softly in the night air, like she’s a little less out of reach than usual.

And, yeah. Maybe I’ll look at that photo later tonight, too.

twenty-one

. . .

Avery

Back at the hotel,we wind up at the pool.

Blame it on the drinks.

Griffin steps up onto the edge of the pool, grins like the cocky devil he is, and dives straight in—jeans, boxer briefs, and all.

He resurfaces with a loud whoop, slicking his wet hair back as water drips down his ridiculously broad shoulders. “Water’s great, Sinclair. You coming in, or do you just enjoy standing there judging me?”

I cross my arms, shivering slightly under the cool night breeze. “Iamjudging you, actually.”

“Live a little, Avery!” Kayla calls, already in the water, bobbing under the moonlight like she’s on vacation in a shampoo commercial. “When’s the last time you did something spontaneous?”

“This is spontaneous,” I argue. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’re wearing a dress,” Jake adds helpfully, floating on his back. “Doesn’t count.”

I glance at Griffin, who’s treading water lazily, his smirk already half the reason I want to walk away.

“You’re such a buzzkill, Sinclair,” he says, pushing his arms through the water. “Told you that you were a perfectionist. Afraid you’ll melt or something?”

“Oh, for god’s sake.”

Maybe it’s the margaritas. Maybe it’s the way Griffin keeps grinning at me like he knows exactly how to push my buttons. But before I can talk myself out of it, I’m stepping out of my sandals and pulling my dress over my head.

Kayla lets out a cheer. Jake whistles obnoxiously. And Griffin—who absolutely does not need to look the way he’s looking at me right now—grins like he’s already won.

“Happy now?” I snap, standing there in my matching white bra and underwear.

Griffin’s gaze flickers over me just once before he looks away with a smug shrug. “You could say that.”

“I can’t believe the things I do sometimes, when I’m with you,” I mutter as I climb onto the edge of the pool and dive in, resurfacing with a sputter. The water’s cold, but it feels surprisingly good after the heat of the night.

"Oh, come on," Griffin says, swimming toward me, his tone lazy, teasing. The water ripples around him, reflecting the glow of the pool lights. His arms stretch out along the pool’s edge, muscles flexing just enough to remind me exactly how dangerous he is to my self-control. "Not so bad, is it?"

"Don’t start." I try to sound firm, but my voice betrays me, breathier than I mean for it to be.

He smirks, tilting his head like he's considering something. "Yeah?" His gaze flicks around the pool, then back to me, hooded and full of mischief. "You know, I really like those green leaves on that tree. The red roses are pretty too, though. Which do you like?"

My heart slams against my ribs. We’re speaking in code, but it might as well be neon lights flashing between us.

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