Page 25 of Forbidden Forward

Her hair brushes her shoulders in soft waves, and my fingers itch as the memory of how soft it is slams into me. The fuzzy black sweater she’s wearing bares one creamy shoulder, and her jeans mold to her perfect ass and thighs. Heels make her appear taller than she is, and the entire package has me checking for drool every few minutes. It also has some of my teammates eye-fucking her, which makes every hair on my body bristle. Isn’t it Harper’s job to keep these morons away from her? Except he’s too busy flirting with the server to pay attention to Jackie. Asshole.

Maybe I need to step into that role. I have a lot of practice playing big brother.

My chin lifts in a subtle acknowledgment. The look she returns is dagger sharp. Ouch. Guess she doesn’t want my protection. She jerks her head to the side as if motioning me to follow and stalks away.

What the fuck is that about?

Pushing up on the balls of my feet, I see her back as she exits the room and slips through a side door that leads to an outdoor patio. What is she doing? It’s fucking thirty-two degrees out there!

I check my surroundings, and when I don’t see Harper in the immediate vicinity, I tell the boys I’m going to use the head before trailing after her. On my way out, I grab my pea coat and hope no one notices.

When I push through the exterior door, she’s pacing the concrete, arms wrapped around her middle. Accent lighting shines gold down on her, and little white clouds puff from her mouth.

It’s just the two of us.

Taking cautious steps, I approach with my open coat. “What are you doing out here?”

Her gaze darts to mine, and damn if it doesn’t send a jolt through me.

“Waiting to ask you something,” she snaps.

I hold the coat up in invitation to slip it on, but she shakes her head.

“Uh, maybe you could ask me somewhere warmer?” Not for my sake, but for hers. There’s not much to her, and she’s already shivering.

“This won’t take long.”

“Then ask.”

Her eyes flash. “What was that out there tonight?”

This girl is more pissed off than a hosed-down hornet, and I am thoroughly confused. “What was what where?”

She throws out an arm. “You agitated yourself into the box for four minutes.”

I agitated myself? That’s what’s got her worked up? No lie, my heart rate picks up its pace because somewhere in her rant I’m hearing that she cares. Whether it’s me she cares about or the trouble I caused our team, I’m not sure, but I’m pulling for option one, like the dumbass I am.

Draping the coat over a metal chair, I stuff my hands in the front pockets of my dress pants and rock on the balls of my feet. “Coach has already lectured me, and your brother made it clear I single-handedly lost the game, so I think I’m good in the blame game department.”

She shakes her head. “That’s not what I mean. One day you’re Captain Colby and the next you’re sandpaper guy.”

“My two favorite super heroes,” I toss back at her.

“Who even are you?” Her hands ball into little fists at her sides, and I fight a laugh. She reminds me of a cute terrier, so soft and fuzzy I want to pick her up—and take the risk that her nasty snarl will turn into a nastier bite.

“I’m whatever you see.”

She snorts. “A chameleon. Figures.”

She’s angry, and I’m being a dick, but I can’t hold my amusement in check. “What have you got against chameleons?”

Now those fists perch on her curvy hips. I shouldn’t be noticing her very fine physical features, but again, I can’t help myself. “They shift colors so they blend in,” she huffs. “That way they can fool you.”

“A natural defense system against predators.” What are we arguing about? Wait. Are we arguing?

“They fool you so you don’t see what’s coming. They can take advantage of you and crush you before you have a chance to defend yourself.”

Her eyes turn glossy, and panic surges inside me. “Are we talking about lizards or something else here?”