Page 49 of Trick Shot

His hand slides up, thumb catching my bottom lip.

He rubs it gently, like he’s testing the idea of kissing me. Like he’s memorizing the shape of my mouth. My entire body is buzzing, tummy feeling like someone set off a million butterflies.

His face lowers to mine, his breath warm against my mouth, and my pulse spikes even more. He’s about to kiss me, but his lips don’t touch. They just hover over mine, a single breath of space between us. Close enough that I can feel the warmth of them.

His eyes flick to mine.

“You got jealous,” he murmurs. His voice is barely a whisper, the words dancing right on the edge of my lips.

I swallow. My entire body is humming.

“I didn’t.” It comes out as barely more than breath.

His eyes flash, but he doesn’t call me a liar. He just studies me—slow, intimate, and devouring.

Being this close to him does something to me. His cheekbones are sharp, his long lashes could make any girl jealous, his nose is perfectly straight. Those honey-flecked eyes, dark around the edges like he’s forever a little bit ruined...

I feel dizzy.

“I’m not going to do anything,” he says quietly, lips still just above mine, “until you’re honest with me.”

I exhale shakily, on the edge. I’m barely holding on. I want to close the distance. I want to lean in, let him taste the confusion and fire he put in me.

But then… everything about him screams danger. Everything about him screams “I’ll ruin you.”

I jerk back a step, then two, pushing his hands off me. His arms fall to his sides, like he’s letting me go on my terms.

I turn before I can lose my nerve and storm down the hall toward my room, chest heaving.

Behind me, he chuckles. It vibrates in my ears, low and amused.

“Now you know which room is actually mine,” he calls after me. “In case you want to come visit.”

I slam my door so hard the walls shake. I stand there, in the silence, with my hands trembling and my lips still tingling from where his thumb touched.

My heart is pounding and my stomach’s doing cartwheels. I almost said it. I almost gave him what he wanted. I almost let him win.

Well, two can play this game.

Chapter nine

~JACE~

The sun’s high, the water’s warm, and half the team is already trying to kill each other with a football that’s seen better days. Tanner’s bleeding from the knee, Dom’s barking out plays like we’re prepping for the Super Bowl, Matt and Nate are close to passing out, and Zed’s standing ankle-deep in the water like an Olympic god watching over everyone. The rest of the guys are slung over the sunbeds, snoring, sunbathing, and day-drinking.

Me? I can’t stop watching her.

Melody’s parked on a lounge chair under one of the big-ass umbrellas I had set up this morning. Her arms are stretched, sunglasses on, one leg crossed over the other. Her curly hair is piled on top of her head in a messy twist, a few strands stuck toher neck from the heat. She hasn’t moved in over an hour. Just flipping pages of a magazine like the rest of us don’t exist.

She hasn’t looked at me once. Not once. Which is impressive considering I’ve walked by her four times. With my shirt off. Dripping.

That moment in the hallway yesterday? She nearly gave in. She wanted me to kiss her.

So what the fuck is this?

Silent treatment? Revenge for making her confront what she feels? Or maybe she’s punishing me for not kissing her. For stopping myself.

I rake a hand through my hair, sweat still clinging to my neck, arms sore from the so-called light workout Dom made us suffer through at 7 a.m. sharp.