Page 88 of Skate the Line

I turn at the sound of chocolate chips falling to the floor from the kitchen.

Our mouths are so close, but neither one of us steps away.

“Oops,” says a tiny voice.

The slightest growl slips from Rhodes, and then he’s gone, and I’m heading into the kitchen to help pick up.

Thirty

RHODES

My fingers get lostin Ellie’s hair, and I curse quietly. Her head jerks as I tug on the ends.

I’m predicting a meltdown coming.

I glance through the opening of the kitchen and stare at Sunny sitting on a barstool with a laptop in front of her. Her shoulders are tense.

“Hold on,” I say to Ellie. I place her on the couch cushion and stride into the kitchen.

Sunny, unaware of me standing behind her, mumbles under her breath at something on the screen. I stop a few feet behind her and glance at whatever has her so worried.

I recognize the social media logo. She’s watching a timelapse of someone painting on a large canvas.Damn, three million views?I step closer and catch the handle: @allyepaints.

I gawk at the screen when the painter angles herself toward the camera. Not only is the painting fucking amazing, but the side of her jaw isawfullyfamiliar.

It’s her.

A faint growl comes from Sunny. Her fingers move quickly. She copies the link, pastes it into an email and furiously types, asking for the video to be removed along with her entire social media account.

This is interesting.

I make a mental note to search her username later when I’m alone and make an attempt at being loud enough for her to hear me as I continue walking in the kitchen so she doesn’t suspect I was just lingering over her shoulder.

Rounding the bar, I grab a beer out of the fridge.

I don’t drink often, maybe one or two when I’m out with the team. But not being able to do a simple fucking braid calls for something stronger.

I place the bottle down onto the counter and rest my hands against the hard granite. “I need your help.”

Sunny raises an eyebrow. “I’ve met my quota for helping you.”

I raise my eyebrow right back.

She shuts her laptop and smirks. “Remember yesterday? When I distracted a certain someone so you could…”

God, please don’t bring yesterday up.

Visions of pumping myself in the shower to the thought of her pressed against me come to light. I try to wash the guilt away with my beer, but unfortunately, it doesn’t work.

“What do you need, Oscar?” She flutters her lashes and…fuck.

The more she and I are around one another, the more I notice the little things about her. Like her long lashes, or how there are a few golden strands of hair woven in between the darker ones.

I am in over my head.

“Braids,” I grunt.

What am I? A fucking caveman?

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