Page 63 of Forbidden Game

“No touchy-touchy,” I remind him.

“Oh, come on, Syd. I always do that.”

I know he’s right. It’s the entire reason why Justin was able to pull up over twenty photos of Parker and me between the airport and the hotel, practically attached at the hip. But still, this is Jackson, and I don’t trust my poker face to fool him. Not yet. Not when the taste of Parker is still fresh on my tongue.

The elevator door opens just as Jackson steps down from the Jeep. He flings the door closed and shoves his hands in the pockets of his jean jacket as he strolls up to us. He looks up and nods his head, throwing out a deep, “Hey.”

I return it with a smile as I step into the elevator, pressing my back against the cool metal.

Parker uses his hand to keep the elevator doors open for Jackson, but I watch as he kicks out his foot at the last minute, tripping Jackson up as he enters. Jackson stumbles for a second before righting himself and throwing a punch to Parker’s shoulder.

“Oww.” He rubs his shoulder. “Did you have to hit me that hard?”

“Dunno, was hoping maybe it would knock those five brain cells you possess back into place.” Jackson leans against the corner of the elevator, crossing his feet over one another lazily.

“Ass.”

Parker punches the button for the penthouse before hitting the button for my floor. While this elevator can access all floors, it can only be called from the garage or the penthouse. I have to use a fob in the regular elevators to access the penthouse when I go up from my place.

“Where the hell have you guys been?” Jackson asks, giving a pointed look at our bare feet.

My eyes dart to Parker, and I finally take in the way his typically styled platinum hair is disheveled from all the sand. His short-sleeved shirt is rumpled within an inch of its life, and his pants are still rolled halfway up his defined calves. Despite his best efforts, sand still coats both of our skin.

He looks like a rough and tumbled sea god.

I don’t even bother looking down at myself. I don’t want to draw more attention than necessary.

“Parker forced us to take a beach detour after our media meeting.” I keep it simple. The less information, the better. Parker going rogue is pretty on brand.

“I gathered.” Jackson rolls his dark eyes. “How’d you end up covered in sand? You both look like you ate shit.”

“I bet Syd that if I could run across the sand faster than her, I could go out clubbing next week.”

I fight to keep my jaw from popping open.

That was an awful lie.

There is no way he will believe that.

Jackson blinks at us before letting out a bark. “You come up with the weirdest bets, dude.”

Then again, most things Parker does are unbelievable.

My chest lightens with relief.

The elevator dings as we reach my floor, and I keep my composure as I exit.

“Have fun with your streams tonight, boys.” I turn around and use my heels to point at Parker. “Don’t stress your wrist too much before the tournament.”

The elevator doors close on Parker rolling his eyes, but I catch the wink he gives me before they finally shut.

I hold my breath as I pad across the carpeted hallway to my apartment door, keying in the code and letting myself in. I make it all the way to my ensuite before I let out a sigh, my heels, handbag, and jacket dropping to the tiles. A glance in the mirror confirms my assumptions.

I look like a mess.

God, I’m lucky Jackson didn’t question us further.

There are bits of sand stuck in the plaid fabric of my skirt, and my blouse hangs loosely around my hips, the bottom wrinkly from where Parker tugged it free. My hair looks like it went to war, and I sigh, knowing that I’m going to need to douse it with detangler before getting in the shower.

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