Page 56 of Failure to Match

I paused, processing. “Okay. Because the point of tonight is to see how you’d actnormally,” I reminded him for the umpteenth time. “That’s what you’re being evaluated on.”

Something light flitted across his features, almost like an inadvertent reaction to an inside joke. “Ah, right. Yes. Well then, feel free to include it in your observations.”

I eyed him with blatant mistrust, and his mouth jerked like he thought it was funny. Then he held out his hand. “Shall we?”

“I already said we should refrain from any physical contact on our… um, during the evaluation.”

“You did say that.” His palm didn’t drop.

My pulse skipped when our gazes locked. A fluttery and weightless sensation swept through my stomach, and before I could think it through, he was closing the space between us, hand still outstretched, eyes still boring into mine.

When he reached me, he raised an eyebrow in a subtle challenge.

One night.

Just go with it.

I swallowed, my mind going blank as my hand moved slowly, timidly, until my fingers had slipped into his open palm.

His eyes visibly softened, their icy blue thawing as his large hand swallowed mine whole. He smiled then, and it tugged at something dangerously deep inside my chest.

“Good girl,” he murmured, so quietly that I almost didn’t hear him. Wouldn’t have if he wasn’t standing so close.

But I did.

I definitely heard him.

And I definitely didn’t hate it.

Uh oh.

15

Something was off.

Not with Jackson—I knew exactly what was going on withhim. He was being as polite and charming as he could stomach because he desperately wanted to wiggle his slick way out of being coached by someone he neither respected nor liked.

What I didn’t understand was my reaction to the faux persona he’d adopted for the evening. I knew it was fake, was fully aware that he’d snap right back to being an insufferable ass once the evaluation was over, and yet…

To put it bluntly, I was experiencing a concerning amount oftingling.

The sensation was stemming from where Jackson’s warm and surprisingly soft fingers were threaded with mine, and slowly spreading up my arm, through my chest, and down to the very tips of my toes.

Almost exactly like an allergic reaction.

It explained the tingling, the subtle flush of my skin as his thumb brushed over my knuckles, and the fact that I was seconds away from breaking out in hives. But as soon as I thought to pull my hand out of his grasp, the noise registered.

We’d taken the elevator up to the roof, and Jackson was leading me toward a set of double doors where Bensen was waiting with a secretive smile and two large headsets.

You have got to be kidding me.

The more we walked, the louder the rapidfwipfwipfwipfwipfwipsounds became. I stopped in my tracks, gaping up at Jackson. He was feigning as much nonchalance as he could muster while a knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his resisting mouth.

“Something the matter?” he asked inthattone. The expectant one that knew exactly what I was thinking.

But I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. “Nope.”

Jackson released my hand and an unpleasant shiver slithered up my arm, protesting the sudden lack of warmth. I never realized contempt could manifest in such vividly tangible ways. Then again, there weren’t very many people I actively disliked, so a lot of this was new for me.

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