Page 78 of Rule Breakers Fall Hardest

“And now you’ve got it, Mr. Hendricks. Good job.”

The thumbs-up the instructor gives me feels as good as winning a game.

I switch with Rosie so she can practice while the instructor goes around to the rest of the group.

“The sight of you struggling brings me far too much joy,” Rosie admits with a smile. Her dark hair is gathered in a ponytail, for an instant tempting me to wrap that hair around my fist and bring her mouth to mine.

I haven’t kissed her since my last home game. I’m fucking grateful she didn’t seem to notice how hard the kiss made me.

“So, what you’re telling me is you like to see me in a vulnerable position?”

She flicks her brown eyes my way, her lips tipping up again. “Can you blame me? It’s so cute to watch you squirm.”

I cross my arms over my chest and bite my cheek to keep from smiling.

Is she flirting with me?

My heart beats out an irregular rhythm, but I ignore it and jump in to tease her in return. “You think I’m cute?”

She puffs out her lips and narrows her eyes on me over the CPR doll. “That’s not what I said, and you know it.”

“Good, Rosie,” the instructor says, passing by us again. “You’ve got the technique.”

Rosie flashes me a triumphant smile.

“Yeah, yeah. Get your gloating over with now.”

An hour later, we leave with CPR certificates in hand.

Rosie snickers as we near my minivan.

“Stop laughing at my car.” I bump her with my elbow. “It’s nicer than you thought it would be, and you know it.”

“It is,” she agrees, letting her hair down from the ponytail. She tips her head back and gives it a shake, causing the dark tendrils to cascade over her shoulders. “But even you have to admit the scenario is funny. Daire Hendricks, college hockey star, driving a grocery-getter.”

“I guess,” I mutter, rounding the hood.

I get in the driver’s side, but when she tries to open the passenger door, it doesn’t budge.

She glowers at me through the window. “Daire.”

A zap of excitement courses through me. I get a sick satisfaction out of riling her up. “What’s the password?”

She bats her eyes, a smile that’s pure annoyance on her mouth. “You’re an asshole?” she asks, her words muffled. “Is that it?”

“Close, but no,” I say, hitting the ignition button.

She pulls on the handle again without success. “Let me in.”

“Apologize for making fun of my dad car.”

“This is a mom van.”

I grin and pull my seat belt across my torso. “Have fun walking home.”

“You dick!” She slaps the window. “Don’t you dare!”

I wouldn’t, but she doesn’t have to know that. I put the van in reverse and tap the gas just enough to force her to jump away.

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