Page 47 of Eight Count Heat
"Great. So Kinsley and her crew are threatening me now." I sigh. "Any good news?"
"Actually, yeah. Cameron's probably the least likely person on the team to care about your designation."
I stumble slightly. Couple things to unpacks there. "What makes you say that?"
"His background. Military family, grew up in Washington where they're pretty progressive about designation stuff. Plus, he took you somewhere private on his motorcycle, which means he trusts you enough to be alone with you."
I stare at him. "How do you know all this about Cameron?"
"I pay attention. Same way I know you're running out of suppressants and that's probably why you're stressed."
"Is there anything you don't know?"
"Lots of things." He adjusts his glasses again. "Like why you're still hiding when half the team already knows and nobody cares."
"Because the university would kick me off the team if they knew," I remind him. "Remember that policy you researched?"
"Policies have exceptions. And someone would have to report you first. I don't think anyone on the team would do that."
We've reached the boathouse, and I can see the others already gathering inside. I stop, turning to face Tyler fully.
"Why are you telling me all this?"
He considers the question, his usual analytical expression softening slightly. "Because I think you should know you're not as alone as you think you are. And because I want you to stay. The team's better with you here."
There's more he's not saying, but before I can respond, the boathouse door opens and Gray stands there, expression thunderous.
"Callahan. Wu. You're late."
"By like a minute," Tyler says mildly.
Gray's glare silences him. "Inside. Now."
As we head in, Tyler leans closer and murmurs, "Don't let them see you're rattled. That's what they want."
With that surprisingly supportive statement, he straightens and walks ahead, leaving me to stare after him in confusion.
Inside, my eyes immediately seek out Cameron. He stands by the rack of oars, quiet as always, but his gaze finds mine instantly. No smile, no acknowledgment of what happened between us last night. Just that steady, knowing look that somehow sees right through me.
But as I move past him to set down my bag, he shifts slightly, his arm brushing mine in a touch too deliberate to be accidental. Heat floods my system at the brief contact, memory of his mouth on mine flashing vividly through my mind.
I force myself to focus, to be professional. I have a team to command, a position to secure, and apparently, an anonymous threat to deal with.
But even as I call out instructions and guide the boat through morning mist, I can't feeling the weight of Cameron's focusin front of me, solid and steady in the bow seat. Can't help remembering the taste of him, the feel of his hands on my waist and in my hair, the invitation still open.
Could be more. If you wanted.
And God help me, I do want. Despite every complication, every risk, every reason it's a terrible idea.
Seven days left in my trial period. Seven days until I run out of suppressants. And now, a mysterious threat hanging over my head.
But as the boat slices through morning mist, eight bodies moving in perfect sync under my command, I make a decision. I won't let fear control me. Won't let an anonymous note drive me away from what I've worked so hard to build.
Whoever left that note might know my secret. But they don't know me. Don't know what I'm capable of when pushed into a corner.
But they're about to find out.
chapter THIRTEEN
