Page 62 of The Pact
I start toward the door, and she follows.
When I grab the handle, I turn and look at her. “We forgot to lock the door.”
And then I laugh.
Her eyes widen, but she laughs.
I pull the door open, but she stops me.
“We okay, Saint?”
“Of course we are.” I lean in and kiss her on the forehead.
She nods with a tentative smile.
“Next time”—I lean in closer—“you don’t need to handle it alone. We can do this anytime.”
Her eyes lift to mine, something flickering, and then she puts her hands on her hips. “Sometimes, you drive me crazy, you know?”
My gaze roams over her body. “Same.”
She shakes her head.
I turn, but she grabs me again, pulling me into a kiss. Fast but firm.
When she lets go of my shirt, I step out into the hallway, and the door shuts behind me.
I look to my right and stop.
Standing about twenty feet away from me are Alie and Liam.
They’re both looking at me, mouths open. But also looking about the same as I imagine Presley and I look. A little flustered and a whole lot satisfied.
Liam raises a brow, and Alie covers a smile with her hand.
I hold their gazes for just a second before I put my finger to my lips. “Shh …”
Then I wink and walk away.
Behind me, I hear Liam laugh.
I don’t stop walking, and I don’t look back.
But as I walk down the hall toward the locker room, one thing is very clear.
Presley and I just crossed the line.
Again.
And I’m not gonna pretend we haven’t anymore.
CHAPTER TEN
Saint
Losing in the first round of the playoffs felt like swallowing glass.
Not because we thought we were owed anything.
