Page 63 of Cheap Shot
He leans close enough for his scent to short-circuit my brain, causing my pulse to skip and my breath to stutter. He smells like cedar and salt and sweat andhim—like trouble wrapped in a smile. “There’s nothing wrong with my knee, Trouble. It was just fine when you were grinding your pussy on it when I pinned you against the wall.”
I whip my head toward him, my cheeks heating at the idea of him saying something so scandalous. “Cole.”
He just grins, eyes sparkling with pride. “What? Too soon?”
“You’re fucking impossible.”
“Persistent,” he corrects, dropping his voice to that soft, growly place that makes my pulse trip. “And I’m not sorry. Not for any of it.”
God help me, I’m not sorry either. I keep telling myself this is reckless, dangerous, career-ending, even—but when he’s this close, when his voice dips and his eyes darken like that? Logic doesn’t stand a chance. Thankfully, most of the room has cleared out. There are only a few people still in the weight area, loitering around the squat racks, and Sammy is stretching in the far corner with his earbuds in and the situational awareness of a rock.
“So much for a spotter,” Cole whispers as he steps closer. Our bodies don’t touch, but the air between us turns electric. Just him being near me is making it harder to concentrate. I’d love nothing more than to drag him to the nearest janitor's closet, but I have work to do.
“You know you’re driving me crazy, right?”
“You’re not exactly making it easy to stay professional.”
“What if I don’t want easy?” He leans in, brushing his lips lightly along the edge of my ear, sending a shiver of pleasure through my entire body. I lean toward him, consequences be damned, as my phone vibrates in my pocket.
I pull it out and notice Kyle is calling, and quickly pocket the phone, hoping that Cole didn’t see the caller ID. I already told Kyle about running into his brother at the therapy center, but I’ve yet to call to fill him in on the recent change in Cole’s and my relationship. In my defense, I haven’t even told Stacey yet, and for the sake of my sanity, I prefer to tell both of them at the same time.
“Who was that?” His arm reaches around my body for the phone I tucked into my sweatshirt pocket.
I step slightly out of his grasp, not wanting him to do something crazy like call the number back. “Oh, no one, just someone from back in college.”
That sounds completely feasible and not a lie. I just need time to explain what is happening to both brothers separately, and preferably not right now.
“A friend from college you have saved in your phone as Playboy?” Cole growls, sliding his hand down my ass and making a grab for my sweatshirt pocket, but misses entirely. Instead, he gets a handful of my ass and gives it a hard squeeze.
“Am I interrupting something?” We fly apart like we’ve been caught committing a felony, only to find Sammy standing there, wide-eyed and awkward. His headphones dangle from his hand like they betrayed him.
I clear my throat, frantically straightening my shirt. “Just discussing training protocol.”
“Yeah, lateral movement drills. Super important.”
Sammy nods slowly, his eyes flicking between Cole and me. A knowing smirk spreads across his face. “I already know what’s going on, so I won’t pry, but you two need to come up with some better lies, or someone is going to figure out what’s going on.”
Dread pools in the pit of my stomach at his words, my heart hammering in my chest, and my face is on fire. I’m about two seconds from dying from mortification, but I can’t seem to stop the laughter bubbling from my throat.
I grab my tablet, ready to bolt into the hallway as Cole hisses from behind me, “Sammy. You didn’t see anything.”
“Not a thing. My lips are sealed,” Sammy says cheerfully. “Kind of. Mostly.”
I duck into the hallway and lean against the wall, finally letting the laughter escape. We aresobad at being subtle. I pull out my phone, still grinning, and check the missed call from a minute ago.
Missed Call: Playboy
I quickly glance over my shoulder to make sure the coast is clear before hitting redial and pressing the phone to my ear. The line clicks and a voice comes through, loud and unmistakably cocky.
“What’s up?” I try my best not to spill the beans right at the start of our conversation.
“What’s up? All you have to say to me iswhat’s up?”
“Yes. That’s usually what people say when someone calls them.” I snicker, bouncing on the balls of my feet, waiting for him to ask me about Cole. “Did you call for something in particular?”
“Can’t I just call to talk to my best friend?”
Oh, Kyle is in the mood to play games. I want nothing more than to play this game, waiting to see who will get impatient and break first, but I glance at my watch. I personally don’t have time for a long, drawn-out conversation, plus I need to tell him before Cole gets out here.
