Page 114 of Double Fault

“Let’s go, Curls.”

He clasps my hand, the warmth of his sinking into my cool skin, and ushers me inside, where we wait in silence for the elevator. I’d probably think tonight was a dream—or a nightmare, depending on my mood—if it weren’t for the steady presence of him at my side and his hand holding on so tightly to mine.

As we ride the elevator down in silence, I take in his profile, trying to read his thoughts. But like always, he’s a veritable vault, his true emotions and opinions locked up tight.

On our floor, we walk side by side to our room. He unlocks the door, then pushes it open gently, nodding for me to go in first.

As I cross the threshold, he releases my hand. I didn’t expect to miss his touch so quickly, but I do.

I head toward my bathroom, expecting him to go straight to the unlocked door that adjoins our rooms, but before I can get far, he grabs my elbow and spins me back to him.

I squeak as I land against his chest. “What are you?—”

My whispered question is cut off when he presses his mouth to mine.

The kiss is insistent, demanding. I answer it with requests of my own, though it’s not lost on me that Maddie is asleep on the other side of the wall.

Chest rising and falling rapidly, he lets me go. His eyes flit over my face, too knowing, like he can read me like a book.

“Good night,” he whispers as he backs away.

I watch him disappear, frozen in place, holding the wad of cold, wet clothing he carried down for me. Though I want to blame the trance I’m stuck in on his whiplash behavior, the reality is that he’s kissed me into a stupor.

Finally I force a deep breath in. When his scent registers again, I have to fight the urge to bury my face in his hoodie.

Stumbling into my bathroom, I clean myself up and wring out my wet clothes. As I’m tossing them onto the pile of laundry in the corner, I realize that my underwear is missing.

That bastard.

My lips tip up on one side, even as I curse him, and I climb into my bed, wrapped in his sweatshirt.

It’s okay. He can keep them.

After all, he’s certainly not getting his hoodie back.

CHAPTER 30

NOAH

Thoughtsof last night consume me. It’s downright irritating how I can’t shake the visual of Sabrina spread before me like my own personal feast. I went out there to blow off steam because I couldn’t stop thinking about what an unnecessary asshole I’d been to her that afternoon and about how, though I hate the idea of it, my coaches have a point about therapy.

In the bed beside mine, Maddie is still passed out with her mouth open and a drop of drool drying in the corner of her lip. What I wouldn’t give to sleep that deeply. I’m lucky if I get six or seven hours a night.

When the quiet knock sounds on my door, I tighten my laces, then let Fisher in.

“Hey,” he says around a yawn, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. “Have fun with your girl.”

I give a gruff laugh in response. He knows about the date—both of them—but I haven’t told him much else. It’s none of his or anyone else’s business while we figure out what we want.

“Text me if you need anything.” With that, I slip out the door and into the hall to wait for Sabrina.

Two minutes later, her door eases open.

“Oh.” Her eyes widen with surprise. “I thought you might be sleeping in this morning.”

I snort. “You didn’t tire me out that thoroughly. I’m an elite athlete, Curls. It’ll take more than your fantastic pussy to wear me out completely.”

“Noah.” Those two syllables are drenched in embarrassment. “I should’ve snuck out early,” she mutters with a shake of her head. “Maybe then I would have been saved from dealing with your annoying ass.”

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