Page 77 of The Kiss of Deception

I slap his finger down, looking into wide eyes that mirror my own.

“You saw that too, right? That wasn’t a product of my imagination. There was something there!” He tries to raise his index finger, I try to slap it down again.

“He likes her,” I confirm, failing to conceal my grin.

“My man is down bad.” Miles smothers a noise that awfully resembles a giggle. The sound tugs at the corners of my heart so hard it aches.

“Little Z! Long time no see.” Rodrigo extends his fist to bump mine, like we’re besties or bros. Looking at his grin, one would never guess he used to hover like a helicopter parent, all heavy side-eyes and disapproving grunts every time I hung out with his sister. Until one day, seemingly randomly, he sat down and watched The Vampire Diaries with us. We bonded over our common dislike of Damon. Then we repeated the process with Gossip Girl—and Chuck. We’re haters.

He’s weaseled his way into our weekly girl-dates, now twice-a-week affairs, as we make our way through Grey’s Anatomy. It’s unclear which controversial character we’ll choose to dislike, only that we’re loyal fans of the old seasons, refusing to watch past season ten.

“I suppose colluding with the enemy keeps you busy,” Rodri says, throwing one of the famous side-eyes in the direction of my fake-boyfriend.

I roll my eyes but greet his fist all the same. “I saw you two days ago when I came over to help Camila with her latest acquisition.”

Which is code for a heated ice cream scoop.

Since her brother couldn’t join her because of his strict athlete diet, Camila called, eager for company to try it, only to realize she couldn’t. She forgot she’d eaten all the ice cream. Rodri erupted into maniacal cackles, so we had no choice but fix the heartbreak with an order of waffles and fries for dessert. After each of us ate a bowl of soup for dinner, of course, because we’re healthy like that.

“I trust you’ve been keeping my little sister out of trouble.”

Camila’s snort steals any answer I might want to provide. “More like she’s been asking for trouble.”

I glower at her, jutting my chin out. “I have done no such thing.”

Her brow points at me. “Yeah? What would you call announcing to an entire stand of pissed off fans your nighttime activities and plans with the dude who just stole the victory from them?”

The sudden need to hide the new crimson in my cheeks ignites my urge to burrow further into Miles’s glistening chest, but I hold strong and still.

I don’t dare look up to see the smirk I know claims his face as he tastes the words. “Our nighttime activities and plans.”

Rodrigo perches forward, inked forearms against the steel bar. “I would be mad at how little regard you show for my sister’s safety, little Z, but I’m too intrigued. Care to share these plans with the class?”

Crimson must burn brighter, because the bark of Miles’s warning is biting. “Shut your mouth, Castro.” He effectively shuts the defender out by turning his back on his chuckles. “I do have plans for us tonight. Stay close.”

Nicholas breaks from his typical silent self, commanding our attention by clearing his throat. “Actually, we could all head to my place. For dinner.”

For a moment, the simple suggestion stuns all of us into silence. If it makes him nervous, he doesn’t show it.

I would wonder if he’s done it with the purpose of throwing us out of balance, but then it clicks.

“We’d love to.” I rush to break the silence in the still loud stadium. “Right?” I elbow Miles in the gut to shake the frown that wiped the smile off his face.

He seems wounded, certainly not from me who barely made a dent in his hard abs. “Actually, I thought we could—” Angling my back towards our friends, I widen my eyes, willing him to catch up. The crease between his browns disappears as realization takes place. “Of course, man. We’re in.” The dimples make an appearance. “As long as the next one is at our place.

Our place. As in, Miles and Zoe’s new house. We’d spent the past week in a whirlwind of house-hunting—in reality, we only visited four places, but I was thoroughly overwhelmed by the second—until my fake-lover declared it was done.

I don’t know which palace he picked. I didn’t want to interfere. Although I agreed to move in with him until my attacker is caught, his forever home will only be my temporary refuge.

We all know Rodrigo’s answer, so my partner in crime jumps in before the Portuguese defender can decline his, and therefore his sister’s, presence.

“What about you, Mi-mi? Will you let our boy third-wheel?” At the random nickname, the guys shoot dirty looks in my fake-boyfriend’s direction. “That would be cruel of you, and I don’t see you as a cruel girl.”

“You’ve known me for all 5 seconds, naïve child.” Her sunny smile goes sinisterly dark. “Call me Mi-mi again, and you’ll see just how cruel I am.”

And the sun shines on her face again.

It’s a little unsettling, and I have to shake myself before I get the reins back in my hands.

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