Page 97 of The Wrong Heart

Suffocating.

“Is that the guy who fixed your ceiling?”

Shane’s voice kisses my ear, and I flinch back, his proximity invasive. His hold on me tightens. “Yes.”

“Want me to tell him to get lost?”

“No.”

My response is quick, leaving no room for interpretation. Shane guides me back to the pool table, his hand sliding to the small of my back, and I finally pull my attention from Parker. I’m tempted to approach him, to find out why he’s here, but West steals my courage before I can flee, handing me a cue stick.

“It’s all you, little sis. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

I inhale a calming breath, trying to shake the weight of his gaze as my fingers curl around the cue. “I’ve definitely got this… three ball, side pocket.”

“Risky.”

My eyes skip to my brother. “Really?”

West chuckles as he swallows down the rest of his beer, abandoning the empty bottle on a high-top table. “Just go, will you?”

“Okay, okay…” Gnawing the inside of my cheek, I try to concentrate on the shot as I near the table, refusing the pull from the opposite side of the room.

Deep breath.

Leaning forward, I move into position, eyeing the number three on the red ball and sliding the stick between two fingers. I should have realized something was amiss when Leah’s giggles cut short and West’s words eclipse, but I continue with the shot, my backside jutted out and my focus fixed.

That’s when I feel him.

A potent heat closing in on me, prompting the little hairs on my arms to dance to life while my skin warms with want. Parker angles himself over me, arms encompassing me from either side, his hands sliding down my own arms until he reaches my wrists.

His face lowers to the crook of my neck, lips grazing my ear, and he whispers, “Hey.”

Hey?

A surge of heat spirals south at a single word. I realize all eyes are on us right now—my brother, Leah, my freakin’date—but I can’t seem to move. I can’t seem to withdraw from the lure of his spell.

I find an ounce of bravery and tilt my chin up, canting my head to the left. He’sright there—our noses almost brush as our eyes meet. I swallow. “I didn’t know you played pool.”

My voice is shockingly steady, my grip tightening on the cue.

Parker inhales a hard breath, licking his lips as his gaze skims my face. “I don’t. I just wanted an excuse to touch you.”

I feel my insides pitch with arousal, and my eyelids flutter closed. “Oh.”

“Take the shot,” he mutters softly, his tone subdued, so only I can hear him.

Nodding towards the three ball, Parker pretends to position me, his groin pressing into my hip as his fingers coil around my wrists and his breath beats against the shell of my ear.

I pull the stick back…

And scratch hard.

Damn it.

“You missed,” Parker says.

“Can I help you, man?”

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