Page 43 of Heroes & Hitmen (Windy City Wolfpack #1)

Jordan nudges me again, softer this time. “You’re not gonna back out on me, are you?” she asks, worry creasing her brow .

“Of course not,” I say, sitting up and looping my arms around my knees. “Staying isn’t an option. You know that.”

“I know,” she murmurs. “It’s just… you seem different. With him.” She pauses. “Happy.”

I go still, staring out at the lake. “Can anyone be happy with a knife to their throat?” I ask quietly.

She sits up and shifts closer, her hand brushing mine. “ He’s not the one holding it.”

“I know,” I whisper. “But it’s been there since I skipped out on the pairing ceremony, just hovering. And I can’t pretend it’ll go away if I play nice. It’s either leave or bleed.”

Jordan nods solemnly, letting the subject drop. She just sits with me, shoulder to shoulder, watching the volleyball game unfold like it’s the only source of contention we’ll find.

“You think they’re going to run out of energy anytime soon?” I murmur.

“Unlikely,” she snickers.

Ares dives for a save, sending sand flying in every direction as he lands hard. My sisters shriek with laughter, and the ball thuds to the ground on the other side of the net with finality. The other team groans, evidently losing the game point.

Ares pushes to his feet and doles out another round of high-fives to my sisters, then turns to jog in our direction, sweat glistening on his chest.

I try not to stare too hard at all that muscle as he makes his way over, flopping down beside me and grabbing a bottle of water. “You in for the next round, sweetheart?” he asks as he twists off the cap. “We need a ringer.”

Jordan snorts. “Yeah right. She’d get sand in her hair and immediately start a vendetta against the entire beach.”

I open my mouth to argue, but she’s not wrong. So, I dig a hand into my beach tote for the sleeve of Thin Mints instead, stuffing one into my mouth. “Hard pass,” I mumble through cookie crumbs.

Ares chuckles, watching me with that easy grin that makes my pulse race. “Suit yourself,” he says, stretching out beside me with his hands tucked behind his head, looking way too relaxed for someone who just went full beast-mode on the volleyball court.

Jordan glances between us, then stands up and brushes the sand off her thighs. “I’m going to get a popsicle,” she announces, tossing me an exaggerated wink before she turns to leave.

Real subtle.

Once she’s out of earshot, Ares tilts his head toward me. “Having fun?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I admit, brushing the cookie crumbs off my hands. “It’s a perfect day.”

His grin deepens, then he sits up and runs a hand down his washboard abs, casually wiping the sand off in a move that’s absolutely not casual. “Wanna go for a swim?”

I wrinkle my nose. “Not really.”

“C’mon,” he laughs, slinging a sweaty arm over my shoulders.

I squirm away with a yelp and he pops up to his feet, offering me a hand. “I’ll race you to the water,” he challenges, dark eyes glinting. “Winner gets… a kiss.”

I snort. “That’s a terrible wager.”

“Didn’t say it had to be on the lips,” he adds, voice dropping an octave as his smile turns wicked.

I roll my eyes as my belly flips, glancing toward the lake. The sun’s been baking me for hours and the water actually does look inviting. And with Ares in my vicinity, I’m suddenly restless, jittery, feeling like I need to move or risk confronting the emotions I’ve been burying.

“Fine,” I say, reaching up to slap my palm into his and letting him pull me to my feet. “But if you try to drown me, I’m haunting you.”

“Never,” he promises, not letting go of my hand.

His palm is warm and strong, and for a second, I look at him– really look at him– and something in my chest shifts.

Ugh . This man .

“On three?” he asks, wagging his brows.

“On three,” I agree.

We count together, then bolt toward the water, bare feet kicking up sand.

He even lets me get a head start. Then he catches up fast, his laughter ringing out beside me.

He wraps an arm around my waist as we hit the edge of the lake and I shriek– half in protest, half in delight– when he scoops me up like I weigh nothing and wades straight in.

The water hits like a shock, cold and sharp against my sun-warmed skin. I cling to him without meaning to, arms wrapping around his neck on instinct as he carries me deeper.

“You’re a menace,” I laugh .

He beams a grin, water dripping from his lashes. “You love it.”

Maybe I do.

He lowers me into the water and I immediately splash his face as payback for dragging me in.

The next few minutes are a blur of shouts, splashes, and laughter. We dunk each other, chase one another, act like total idiots. The world shrinks to sun and spray and the sound of his laugh, and nothing else matters.

We finally call a truce, drifting together on the waves. His hand finds my own under the surface, fingers threading through mine. The sun’s warm on my face, the lake glitters like a dream, and Ares is looking at me like I’m the only thing that matters.

I want to believe this can last. Just for a second, I want to believe I can stay, that we’d be safe as long as we had each other.

But then a wave crashes over us, stealing my breath, and I’m jolted back to reality.

I remember who I am; what I have to do. I squeeze his hand hard, memorizing the feel of it in mine.

When we finally return to shore, Jordan is waiting on her towel with a knowing smile. I can see the question in her eyes, the same one she asked earlier– if I’m really prepared to leave him.

The thought of that is like a knife to the heart, but I know what I have to do.

So, I lie beside Ares and let the sun dry my skin. Let the warmth sink in. I promise myself that when the time comes, I’ll find the strength to do what needs to be done, but for now I pretend this isn’t all temporary.

Because it really is a perfect day. And I’m going to hold onto it with everything I have.