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“He’s a MacKay,” I remind her stubbornly.

She lifts one delicate brow, looking almost amused. “So am I, remember?”

And there it is again, the reminder that for all intents and purposes—she’s my enemy. My da would be furious if he knew I was letting her help me. That I was touching her. That I felt so…possessive of her. Key is a MacKay, and that hasn’t changed. It’s justmewho seems to have completely disregarded that fact.

“Aye,” I answer quietly. “I remember.”

“Just think about it, okay?”

“I’ll…think about it,” I concede.

She grins, pressing up on her toes to leave another kiss at my mouth. “Good.” She eyes the sun with a wary expression, noticing, just as I have, that it’s begun to sink. “You’d better get out of here.”

“I know,” I sigh.

I tilt my neck until my forehead rests against hers, content to just breathe her in for a second. I know I have to let her go, that it’s much too soon to allow anyone to actually come back here and spot us—too many questions to come with that—but still. I feel…almost at ease here with her. Like for once there’s nothing to worry about in this tiny corner where she’s the sole object of my attention.

“Wait for me in my bed,” I tell her.

I feel her smile. “Yeah?”

“I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

“Well, that’s just not safe. You’ll end up with all kinds of scary things in your place.”

I pull back to give her a wolfish grin. “I’m the scariest thing there is, remember?”

I can hear voices not far from us, and I heave out a sigh as I start to untangle myself from her, hating every second of it. She’s quietly laughing at what I’ve said as my hands fall from her waist, and her hand comes to pat my cheek.

“Sure you are, Nessie. Sure you are.”

She saunters away from me back toward where the others are still working, and it takes every ounce of my restraint not to follow after her like a lost pup. The only thing that stops me is the sinking sun behind me, a physical reminder of all the reasons why I can’t do whatever I want. It feels heavier today, this burden. It presses down on me like a physical weight, and I have a sneaking suspicion I know exactly why that is.

And I think I just watched her walk away from me.

21

Keyanna

I wake up on the morning before the games still exhausted and slightly hungover; last night Finlay roped me into a card tournament with him and Brodie, and whatever I’d let him slip into my tea to “spice it up” had slowly crept up on me, leaving me much tipsier than I meant to get. The resulting headache at the breakfast table is a fair reminder of why I don’t drink much. I didn’t even sneak into Lachlan’s place last night, stumbling upstairs and crashing in my own bed instead.

“You look about as hinging as I feel,” Brodie rumbles from the doorway, shuffling into the kitchen and moving to the fridge.

I rub my temples. “Does hinging mean hungover as fuck?”

“Aye, pretty much,” he chuckles. “Where’s the bloody orange juice?”

“You’re drinkingorangejuice after last night?”

“Always did well for an upset stomach,” he tells me. “Don’t know why, but it’s a sure fix for me.”

“I’ll stick to tea thatisn’tspiked with whatever Grandpa put in it last night.”

“That’ll be The Famous Grouse,” Brodie tells me.

“What?”

“Finlay’s favorite whiskey,” he explains, pulling a carton of orangejuice from the fridge. Just looking at it makes my stomach turn. “He likes to make toddies with it, but they’re deadly.”