Page 77 of Beautiful Collide

“What are you smirking about?”

“Me? Smirking?”

She throws her hands up. “I give up. Dane, he’s intolerable.”

“Who? Me?” I put a hand to my chest, feigning shock.

“Yes. You. Even now, that damn smirk. Jeez, Hudson, grow up.”

“Grow up? Hell, why would I do that? We should make it more interesting.”

She narrows her eyes. “Yeah, and how are we going to do that?”

“How about a bet?” I grin like a fool. No way will she be able to resist.

She raises an eyebrow. She knows she’s walking into a trap. I can practically see her brain working, weighing out whether she’ll play along.

She’ll do it.

No way she’s saying no.

It’s not in her nature to back down from a challenge.

“If you can go through the rest of the playoffs without arguing with me, I’ll stop annoying you.” God, I’m a smug bastard. But this will be so worth it.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Nope. Scout’s honor.” I place my hand on my chest.

She snorts. “No way you’re a Boy Scout.”

“You don’t know me. Maybe I am.”

“Fine.” She leans in slightly. “Let’s say you can actually do that. What happens if I lose?” she asks.

I shrug. “I’ll get back to you.”

“Nah, that’s BS.” She points a slender finger at me. “No way am I agreeing to these terms.”

“Afraid you can’t be nice for a few weeks? Wow, Moll, that’s concerning.”

Dane, who’s silently been watching us like a tennis match, suddenly speaks up. “I’m going to have to agree with Hudson. Even though ninety percent of the time he talks out of his ass, he’s making sense this time.”

“I’m wounded, Sinclair.”

“No, you’re not.” He laughs.

“Yeah, I’m not.” But my words don’t match how I feel. All of this, it’s all a fucking facade, and they don’t even see it. The jokes and the banter are a hell of a lot easier than admitting how I truly feel.

I extend my hand. “Do we have a deal?”

She eyes me carefully before sighing. “Sure. Whatever.”

26

Molly

The moment Hudsonwalks out of the coffee shop, I let out the breath I’ve been holding.

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