Page 94 of The Rookie

Not possessive. Not demanding. Just...a kiss. A real one.

Something stirs in my chest, something dangerous and unguarded.

twenty-seven

. . .

Avery

After our ridiculously hot,mind-melting, all-time fantasy-level shower session—not that I’d ever admit that to him—Griffin leans over the hotel phone, still dripping wet, towel barely hanging onto his hips, and orders champagne.

"Yeah, send up your best bottle," he tells room service, his voice still husky from everything we just did. "We’re celebrating."

I arch an eyebrow from where I’m perched on the edge of the bed, my damp hair wrapped in a towel, just wearing a pair of tiny sleep shorts and nothing else.

“Oh? And what exactly are we celebrating?”

He glances over at me, those green eyes sharp and full of mischief.

But I barely register his response—because my brain is still short-circuiting over the fact that this is happening.

That he is here. That I am here. That we are… this.

And maybe it’s the lingering post-orgasm haze, maybe it’s the champagne on its way, maybe it’s just the sheer insanity of this entire situation, but I finally let myself think about it.

I let myself admit the thing I’ve spent years pretending wasn’t real.

The fantasy I never let myself have.

Because, oh, I noticed Griffin Knox.

I noticed him in high school when he suddenly grew into a big, broad-shouldered, six-foot-five star athlete.

I noticed when his voice dropped, when he filled out, when he went from my best friend’s annoying little brother to a man that made other girls giggle and whisper behind their hands.

I noticed the way people looked at him. The way he started carrying himself differently. The way he became someone that nobody could ignore.

And I ignored it.

I forced myself to.

Because that was Griffin. Cassie’s younger brother.

Because he was trouble. Because he was too cocky, too easy with that grin, too much of a walking red flag.

And maybe, back then, I told myself I didn’t think about him like that.

But now?

Now I know I was lying.

Because I remember one moment, in particular.

I was a sophomore in college, just walking across campus after class, when I saw him.

He was a freshman, fresh off his first major win as, walking out of the stadium like he owned the entire damn world.

And he looked—God, he looked good.

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