Page 165 of A Little Tempting

“He’s mine,” I whisper. It’s more to myself than anyone else as I steal another peek. He’s so cute and tiny, and I just wanna kiss him. Well,airkiss him, then sneak him into Finley’s bed the next time she pisses me off. A devious grin toys at the edge of my lips. “I cannot believe you got me a frog.”

“Better believe it, Pickles. So what’s his name?”

“Hmm.” I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth, watching as he swims to the edge of the small pool. “Frankie. His name’s Frankie.”

“Frankie,” Reeves repeats.

“Yup, Frankie. Frankie the Frog. The Frank-meister. My little Franken-froggie.”

Amusement glows in his eyes as he nudges my chin with his fingers. “And you say I’m the one who’s insane.”

“Uh, youareinsane,” I reiterate. “But you’re also perfect. And he’s perfect.” I wrap my arms around Oliver’s neck and squeeze him tight. “And everything’s perfect.”

When I land a lip-smacking kiss against his lips, he pulls away, surprised. “I thought you said no kissing until you brushed your teeth.”

“You just got me the perfect gift on the planet. I think I can make an exception.”

“Well, in that case…” He kisses me deeply, shoving his tongue into my mouth because he knows how much it gets under my skin, then rolls me onto my back and pins me against the mattress.

When he finally lets me up for air again, I whisper, “I love you so much, Ollie.”

“I love you, too, my tempting little pickled wallflower.”

“A pickled wallflower?” My nose scrunches. “Really?”

He grins down at me. “The one and only.”

HIJACKED EPILOGUE

EVERETT

Let’s back up a bit.

Adrenaline lingers in my veins as I slide on my jeans after my shower. We just finished playing a game against the Grizzlies and won. LAU 3. Grizzlies 1. It was a rough game. I roll my shoulders as the ache from a particularly brutal hit spreads up my neck and down my spine. Yeah. I’m gonna feel it tomorrow.

Worth it, though.

“Good game, man,” one of my teammates says as I rub my white towel against my head.

“Thanks.”

The heavy metal door bangs against the cinder block walls in the locker room, followed by someone yelling, “Ev!”

“What?” Cameron, another teammate, answers for me.

“Where’s Everett?” the person demands.

It’s Reeves.

My roommate. Teammate. And just recently,friend. Still holding my white towel, I button my jeans the rest of the way and glance around the corner as Reeves comes into view.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“Come out here.”

“Why?”

“Come on,” he pushes.

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