Page 67 of Second Down Fake

His fingertips walked up my back and he leaned close, watching me with a hunger that put my body on edge. “Come on, Cassandra. Your turn.”

His breath was hot on my ear and his voice low and rumbly and inviting.

“I think we should head back to the hotel now.”

TWENTY-TWO

CASSANDRA

I drew the hotel key from the pocket of my jeans, pressing it to the door until the light turned green and the lock unlatched.

“Hello?” I called as I eased open the door.

“Do you think someone’s going to answer?” Diego crowded behind me, one hand on my lower back and his other on the door above my head.

“Noa and Lena?”

I hadn’t seen Lena since the game. They’d had dinner reservations and…something. I couldn’t remember what or how long they’d be out.

Inside, the hotel room was clean and empty, one light turned on by the couch and both bedroom doors closed. “Do you think they’re still out or in bed?”

Diego threw his bag onto the couch. “I think they’re?—”

“Shh!” I pressed my finger to my lip. “What if they’re asleep and you wake them up?”

He cocked his head with a look I couldn’t quite read before shrugging. “Okay, let me raid the minibar, and we’ll head to our room.”

Our room. We were sharing a room.

When Diego had booked the room, that we’d share a room the night after the game had been more amorphous. Our flirtation had been more teasing than serious.

“Or I can crash on the couch,” I offered, picking up his duffel bag from the couch.

He stopped raiding the shelves of the mini bar with a raised eyebrow. “Hell no. If you don’t want to share a room, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to share a room.”

“Then why are you talking about the couch?” He grabbed a handful of mini bottles as he eyed me.

My cheeks blazed. “No reason. Come on. Let’s get into our room before you wake up Noa and Lena.”

During the day, a housekeeper had come through, turning down the bed and throwing open the heavy gold curtains to the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the fountain. Below us, tourists milled around the sidewalk, posting up along the fence below to wait for the next show.

I set Diego’s duffel bag in the corner of the room as he dropped the drinks on the coffee table in front of the window. He grabbed a mini bottle and took a sip, staring down at the water below. “Can we hear the music from up here?”

“Yeah. One of the hotel channels. That’s what the concierge said yesterday, anyway.” I fumbled around the bed for the remote and flipped through the channels, pausing on a countdown timer. “Viva Las Vegas is coming up.”

Diego grabbed an upholstered chair butted up against the wall and dragged it to the center of the window. He sat down and patted the armrest. “Come on. Let’s watch.”

The timer had minutes left, and I eyed the chair warily as Diego uncapped a water bottle, head tipped back as he took a gulp. Hell, even the motion of his Adam’s apple did something to me. And after this off-hand comment at the bar and watching a fountain show with him by the glass pane window he’d talked about so casually, I’d spend the rest of my life getting uncomfortably aroused at the song Viva Las Vegas if I wasn’t careful.

Fuck it.

I kicked off my shoes and padded over, perching on the edge of the armrest. Diego grinned up at me, his arm looping around my hips. Despite the football game and the long evening at the museum, he looked refreshed. His black hair flopped over his forehead and his body relaxed into the seat. His grip tightened on my hips, pulling me closer, urging me to relax onto his shoulder. Or I just wanted to do that. Either way, as the music cued up and the lights around the fountain dimmed, I dropped my head onto his shoulder.

Bright lights mirrored water cannons as the song took off. The crowds of people surrounding the water melted away. I closed my eyes to the show, my focus entirely on Diego’s fingertips pressed into my hip, the soft push of his palm pulling me off the edge until I slid off the armrest and onto his lap.

“This is cozy.”

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