Page 66 of The Foul Out

The smile Kyle gave me was the one he wore any time he won. He nodded, still so damn nonchalant. He was so unbothered, and that made anger pulse through me. “You’re right. I did not kiss youjustto get Trevor to go away.”

I froze, my breath catching in my lungs. Wait. Was he agreeing with me or not?

Laughing, Kyle cupped the back of my neck and pulled my mouth to his once more. It was another quick press of our lips, but it made my heart skip all the same.

“You kissed me again,” I mumbled as he pulled back.

“Is this like when the bird landed on your head? When you were so flustered you kept stating obvious things?” he teased, wiping at my lip with his thumb this time.

Uck. I whacked him in the stomach again. “I hate you.”

He flashed that toothy, shiny-eyed smile. “That’s okay. I like you enough for both of us, Crabby.”

Jutting my chin up, I clenched my fists at my sides. More often than not, I deserved the term of not-so-endearment because I had cranky tendencies. But tonight, I was smiling, even laughing. I’d just taken a massive shot, for goodness’ sake. “I’m not cranky tonight.”

“I didn’t say cranky,” he corrected, one brow arched.

I cocked a brow too.

He smirked. “I think you got the idea wrong. You’re like the uh…” He waved his hand. “That crab, from the mermaid movie.”

“Sebastian?”

“Yeah, the red little guy with all the schedules and rules. Can’t do this, can’t do that.” His voice dropped as he mimicked the little crab. “We must have a plan.” With a sigh, he scratchedat his jaw. “He never would have had fun if not for Ariel coming along and making him nuts.”

I really tried to scowl at him, but my lips pulled up instead, and a giggle burst from between my lips. “Are you implying that I need a redheaded mermaid to save me?”

“Nah.” He smirked, dropping one forearm to the table again, and angling in so his lips ghosted over my ear when he said, “Personally, I’m rooting for the blond baseball god.”

That caused me to laugh so hard I snorted. Instantly horrified, I smacked my hand over my mouth to stop the sound and to hide the blush that heated my cheeks.

“You’re adorable.” He shook his head and pushed my half-drunk martini toward me. “Have some liquid courage.”

“Why?” I asked.

“We’re going to sing.”

“Sing?” My heart stopped in my chest, and, breath held, I scanned the crowded room.

He waved a hand. “Karaoke party at a karaoke bar. There are expectations.”

“Have you lost your mind?” I croaked. “I can’t sing.” There were like a hundred people here. There was no way I’d make a fool of myself in front of this many people.

“Can’t do this, can’t do that,” he chanted, lowering his voice teasingly again, and then leaned back into me. “Come on. You can’t tell me you’ve never done karaoke before.”

I had. Years ago. I used to love it. When I was twenty-two and pretty, and I stupidly believed I could do anything. But here, in this moment, in this room full of people, I was none of those things.

“That’s what I thought. Come on.” He had moved in so close that our noses almost brushed. “I dare you.”

“I…”

He pushed the drink closer. “I’ll be right beside you the whole time. Trust me.”

And for some unknown reason, I did. If there was one thing Kyle had earned over the last few weeks, it was a little trust.

I huffed out a sigh. “Fine.” I tossed my drink back and turned to the stage. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

“That’s the spirit, Crabby.” With an arm wrapped around my shoulders, he guided me to the stage. “I’ve got the perfect song.”

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