Page 13 of Hard to Fake

I’m definitely not still thinking about how it felt to have her over my shoulder, my palm across the back of her thighs.

Jay asks, "What're you going to the party as? There's an epic prize." He grins. "Brooke's been working on her costume for weeks."

The guys keep talking costumes, but I’m curious. I type out a text.

Miles: Tell me the concept. Waffles’s management needs to approve it.

Brooke: Tell Waffles’s management it’s top secret.

Miles: Then he gets half the prize winnings.

Brooke: Twenty-five percent.

Miles: Should be an even partnership.

Brooke: Not when he doesn’t have to wear heels.

I chuckle and tuck the phone away.

She’s always been more than other girls, even in college.

Funnier.

Braver.

More caring.

In another world, Brooke and I would make a hell of a team.

Rescuing her was even worth getting chewed out by Aliya on voicemail for bailing. I had my assistant send her flowers as an apology, but I’m regretting it because she’s texted me half a dozen times since.

The first time we hung out, we agreed neither of us was looking for serious, but it’s starting to feel as if she wants more than I have to give. I don’t tell women I’m unavailable to play hard to get or because I want to be noncommittal.

It’s because the only long-lasting relationships I have are with my guys and my dog. I’m protective as hell about the people I choose, and I don’t let just anyone in.

When I tune back in, Jay’s scrubbing a towel across his face. "You think I can't organize a costume party?”

“You totally hired it out,” Rookie tosses.

I brighten at that piece of information. “Least we know it’s going to be good.”

“Come on.” Jay looks hurt.

“You couldn’t choose the signature drink," Clay says.

Jay stares at him, his eyes cool and his face unreadable. "Just for that, I'm awarding you a penalty."

"The hell kind of costume contest has penalties?!" I demand.

"The kind I came up with."

My phone dings with a notification. I glance down, hoping it’s the person I’m still waiting to hear from after an entire day.

Instead, it’s Aliya saying next time she wants different flowers.

I silence the phone.

“Well, you heard Coach.” I hook an elbow around Jay’s neck and the other around Clay. “Only thing harder than winning once is running it back. Better get to work.”

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