Page 20 of The Best Shot

We stayed locked together, breathing hard, sweat-slicked and satisfied on the rug.

“Jesus,” he finally said.

“Yeah.”

He smiled lazily, then kissed me again, soft and sweet.

From the couch, Annie let out a particularly loud snore. We both froze and looked over.

She hadn’t moved.

I started laughing.

Hale laughed too, quiet and warm against my shoulder. Before I could ask what he was doing, he stood and scooped me up off the floor. “Come on.”

“Hale—”

“Shh. Guest room. Now.”

I didn’t argue.

He carried me upstairs, pushed open the door to the blue room, and kicked it shut behind us. I barely registered the bed before he was laying me down on it.

“We should sleep,” I said, even as my hands found his shoulders.

“We should,” he agreed, kissing down my neck.

“It’s late.”

“It is.”

“Hale—”

He lifted his head.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

I didn’t tell him to stop.

5

“HELL OF A RUN, THOUGH.”

HALE

The problem with having female friends is sometimes you sleep with one of them and everything goes to shit.

I woke to the mattress dipping, then lifting again—the bed frame giving one soft creak that dragged me out of what little sleep I’d managed.

Déjà vu hit hard enough to wake me all the way up.

I kept my breathing even and listened as she found her clothes in the dark, every small sound too careful.

She paused in the doorway. Looking back? Second-guessing? Debating whether to say something?

The door clicked shut, and I opened my eyes.

The sheets were still warm on her side, the pillow still smelled like her skin, and the sky outside was caught somewhere between night and morning. I lay there long enough for the quiet to turn mean, then sat up, scrubbed both hands over my face, and grabbed my phone off the nightstand.