Page 28 of Kissing for Keeps
“First, it wasn’t a booty call. Second”—he grimaces—“you’re gonna wanna know about this text.”
I narrow my eyes, and he drops his gaze, avoiding mine.
My suspicions are sufficiently roused. “Jackson … why do you look so guilty right now?”
“It’s just Jack, remember?” He taps his thumb on the back of his phone. “Anyway, I was trying to text Madi, and there was a little… mishap.”
“What sort of mishap?” I say as calmly as possible.
“Well,” he says slowly, “I couldn’t decide what to say exactly, so I was just trying out a few different options.”
I stand slowly. “Jack…”
He taps his thumb on his phone. “I accidentally pressed send before I was ready.”
Ever so slowly, I walk toward him. “What did you say?”
He looks at me like I might pounce on him at any minute. He’s not wrong. “It was a total accident.” He backs up, the wall stopping his escape. “I promise.”
I put out my hand as I get nearer, keeping my eyes trained on him. “Let me see it.”
“Nevermind,” he says, taking a slow step the only direction he can—to the side. “I value my life too much. Goodnight!”
He whirls around, and I make a grab for the phone, but he’s too quick, dodging out of my grasp. I go after him, chasing him as he sidesteps my suitcase and moves the desk chair into my path.
But I’ve got my eyes on the prize, and I use the chair like a parkour master, propelling myself off the seat with my hand. Jack has no choice but to make a dive onto the bed, and, like any good strategist, I’m half a second ahead of him. We fall onto the mattress at the same time, and I grab for the phone as he tries to keep it out of my grasp.
We wrestle, a tangle of limbs, grunts, and, from Jack, something that sounds suspiciously like laughter. It only makes me try harder, and, by some miracle—because I refuse to think Jack is letting me win—I whip one leg over his stomach and pin his forearms to the bed.
“Dang, Sheppard.” His chest rises and falls against the open zipper, which must have unzipped even more during our struggle because now I can see… a lot. My eyes are insisting on mapping out the new territory.
I let go of one of his arms and grab the edge of the zipper, zipping it all the way to his neck. Removing distractions is a solid strategy.
His arm stays in place while one of his eyebrows goes up like he knows exactly why I just did what I did. I curse silently.
He willneverlet me live that down.
Smiling wickedly, he puts his free hand on the zipper and stares me straight in the eye. The clicking of the zipper fills the air as he pulls it downward at a leisurely pace that is equal parts sexy and teasing.
For a split second, I consider letting him continue. Zipping something all the way to the neck is the equivalent of pulling a turtleneck up over your face. It looks all wrong. That’s all this is. It’s about restoring harmony to the fashion universe. The zipper should be unzipped a third of the way. At least.
Get it together, Siena!
My eyes flick to his, and I snatch his arm and pin it.
He laughs more. “What are you, the modesty police?”
“I’ll takethat.” I grab the phone from his other hand and roll off and away from him.
“You don’t have my passcode,” he says, staying in place.
I consider holding the phone to his face to unlock it that way, but I’m not confident I could keep it from him. I turn toward him, resting on my elbow. It’s not a very threatening stance, unfortunately. “Show me the text or so help me, Jack, I will—”
“Zip up my zipper?” He’s still lying back, his hands clasped under his head like he hasn’t a care in the world.
The bed beneath us starts to vibrate. Frowning, Jack reaches beneath his back and pulls out my phone.
Madi’s name and picture fill the screen. I look at Jack. He looks at me.
