Page 29 of The Last Love Story

But Hux follows the sound. His eyes land on the poker chip.Ourpoker chip.

I swallow another swear as I press myself into the shadows. Still, I can’t help but peer around the corner of machinery to watch. Hux’s face is unreadable as he saunters forward.

I back up as far as I can, but I can’t move any more without the other two seeing me.

Hux leans down and grabs the chip, eyes fixed on the ground. Like he knows if he looks up, he’ll see me. For a moment, he turns the plastic over in his fingers, memorizing the grooves. A half smile plays along the edge of his lips, and the hand by my own mouth presses firm. Then he pockets the chip.

“Loose bolt on the outer rim of the mounts,” he calls over his shoulder. “What were you saying about running a tight ship?”

“We’ll get maintenance in here,” the older man says. He jerks his head at the blond. I hold my breath, wondering if they’re about to call right now. But Hux only returns to his station with an exaggerated sigh.

“You just love to watch me, don’t you, Baker.”

“Just get the coordinates.”

“Watch this, then,” Hux says, and maybe he’s showing off, or maybe he’s stalling. I don’t care. All that I need to know is that all three of them are fixed on an image of a family, as Hux pulls metadata from the file. While the letters and numbers scroll, I turn and sprint, not caring if I make a sound.

All the while, my heart pounds in my ears, and it sounds likeHux is a Mach.

Chapter 7

Turns out I don’t need coffee as much as I thought I did. The sheer adrenaline of knowing that Hux is behind me is like having a jumper cable on my nervous system.

He’s a Mach.

I kissed a Mach.

My hand shakes as I fumble for the computer mouse. A feeling like a fishhook below my belly button fights to drag my gaze to where Hux is seated across the room. In my periphery, I can see him shooting dark glances my direction. I bite my lip and square my shoulders, focusing on my screen and only my screen. If only I could actually see the images; they blur in front of me as I click senselessly.

“You okay?” Nef whispers, pretending to stretch her neck while she looks to make sure the coast is clear. Ms. Astor has been replaced by a Hammer, but he seems to be more interested in whatever is streaming on his DopaMinefeed than keeping an eye on us. Still, we have to be careful. There are two outside the door, and they patrol the hallways now.

“I’m fine,” I whisper back. I haven’t told Nef what happened. She thinks I just went home. “Just tired.” That’s not a lie. I am exhausted. Still, my entire body is on fire with electricity, a live wire.

When the bell sounds for our break, I jump about ten feet in the air. Shaking limbs to try to dispel some of the energy, I follow Nef to the door. I know there are at least a couple of people between me and Hux, can almost feel it, but I am not going to look back to check.

“Hart,” he calls from behind me as soon as we step into the hallway, and my stomach swoops.

I don’t stop, but Nef elbows me in the ribs.

“Hart, I know you heard me,” Hux says, his voice closer now, lower, just for me.

The crowd slows as everyone bottlenecks toward the mess hall, and I shut my eyes in frustration. There’s nowhere to run. When I force my eyes open and look over my shoulder, Hux is cutting through the throngs of people, gaze fixed on me.

“Ripley. You can’t avoid him forever,” Nef says, her tone low and playful.

Of course. She just knows about the kiss. She doesn’t know about the whole “he’s a terrorist” part of this equation.

“Ripley,” Hux says, and this time, he’s right behind me.I can feel the vibration of his voice in my chest. The crowd ahead of us thins, and for a second I consider ignoring him and disappearing into the cafeteria. It’s not like we could have that conversation in front of people. And his only other option would be what—throwing me over his shoulder and marching us out into the hallway?

My blood races at the thought. Actually, I wouldn’t put it past him.

Nef smirks. “I’ll give you two some privacy,” she says, walking backward for a couple of steps in order to throw me a mock salute.

“Come on,” Hux says, and I sigh, letting my shoulders drop in resignation as he motions to an empty utility closet on our left. Unlike a classroom, it at least isn’t packed to the gills with cameras and microphones. After checking to make sure that no one else is inside, he gives me anafter youmotion and then follows, closing the door and crossing his arms across his broad chest.

“Nef knows where we are,” I say defensively, and Hux’s expression creases with confusion for a beat before he understands what I’m saying. His face slackens as he rolls his eyes.

“You know,” I add, “if I’m atarget.”