Page 108 of A Lucky Shot

“Hearing you say it feels different.” He cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes at his cards. “Did your family support you going into costume?”

“My parents told me I could be anything I wanted when I grew up,” Cass said wryly. “They forgot to tell me that if anything I wanted wasn’t something that earned their attention, then I wouldn’t get any of it.”

Josh looked up. “What do you mean?”

“Typical middle child. The only thing I was ever good at was dance, and the minute I wasn’t going to be the best anymore, it was like they lost interest in me. I was never a great student. My older sister is hyper successful, then she got married to her hyper successful husband and brought home hyper cute grandkids for our mother to dote on. I was supposed to be the boy our dad always wanted, and when my brother came along, my dad had his favourite. It was just me in the middle, finding ways to make other people happy and trying to get their attention. The only thing I was ever good at in my family was seeing when things were about to go wrong and stopping drama before it started.”

Josh let out a chagrined chuckle. “Like how you talked me down when I was?—”

“Getting overwhelmed by all the pressure on your shoulders to pull this off?”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Force of habit.” Cass brushed it aside. “You had that vision in your head though, already. That’s why you were so fast to accept my suggestions. Why didn’t you say anything to Melanie?”

Deep fissures furrowed his brow. “I’m not great at communicating what I need,” he bit off eventually, rearranging the cards in his hand. “That’s why I’ve always worked solo.”

“You can only get so far on your own.” Cass rubbed the frown lines between his eyes away. “And that’s why you need people like me around.”

“I can think of lots of reasons to keep you around,” he said. That sly look she knew so well spread over his face, dimples divotting his cheeks, and he held her gaze as he fanned his cards out between them. “For one, you’re an easy mark. Gin.”

Cassidy St. Claire, you are a damn fool.

The squeezing in her chest released a charge through her limbs, and she sat rooted to her seat. As Josh counted the points and scratched the point totals on the pad beside him, her heart decided, and left her brain completely out of the conversation.

“I never stood a chance, did I?” she murmured.

“You really didn’t,” he said, dealing another hand. The heat retreated from his gaze, a practiced look of nonchalance taking the place of the smirk as he studied his cards. “I could stay tonight, too. If you haven’t had enough of me yet.”

“No, I haven’t had enough.”

“It’ll feel a little funny at first, but you’ll get used to it.”

“Kinky.”

“No squirming.”

“I can’t help it if you make me squirm.”

“Josh …”

“Okay.” He closed his eyes and tilted his face up to hers. “Lay it on me.”

Josh sat on the edge of the tub, his flawless skin freshly washed and his hands gripping his knees, held wide to let her stand between them. She’d cranked up the heat when she made him take off the hoodie to prevent smearing mishaps, and the lean planes of his torso glowed in the dimmed bathroom lights. His thick black hair was held back with glittery butterfly clips she’d picked out from the selection on her bathroom counter.

“Breathe in.” Cass misted the aromatherapy spritz, more for ambiance than anything else, and scooped a double finger full of the green goop. “Now, relax.”

“When did you get so bossy?”

She smoothed the mask over his forehead, down the bridge of nose, along the blade of his cheekbones. Her thumbs worked at the tense muscles of his jaw and smoothed down the column of his throat. His broad shoulders released a fraction, and he took a deep breath as she massaged his temples.

“This is not like other facials I’ve had,” he said, slurring slightly.

“I’ll pretend that’s not an innuendo?—”

“It’s an innuendo.”

“But either way,” Cass said, unfazed, her fingertips pressing along the line of his collarbones, “that doesn’t speak well to your other facials. I’m not very good at this.”

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