Page 40 of How to Lose a Pack in 10 Dates

She smirks. “High praise from me.”

“I’ll take it. Though for the record, I had an amazing time. And not just because I wasn’t peed on by a student today.”

She laughs—reallylaughs—and it’s like being lit up from the inside.

Then something shifts. Her gaze lingers on me, her expression flickering somewhere between curiosity and caution.

I take a breath. “Can I kiss you?”

She freezes for just a second. Her eyes search mine, and then she nods. I step closer. My hand brushes her waist, the other gently tilting her chin—

And then I kiss her.

It starts soft; more of a question than anything else. But the second her mouth parts under mine and her fingers twist in my shirt, I know I’m done for. Her scent curls up through the edges of her blockers, and every instinct I’ve got roars to the surface. I rein it in, though. I don’t want to lose this: not to heat, and not to ego, so I slow it, ease back just enough to rest my forehead against hers.

We’re both breathing hard. Her lashes flutter, and when she finally opens them, they’re glassy and unreadable. Then she clears her throat, straightens slightly, and smooths a hand down her dress.

“Well,” she says lightly, voice husky. “Goodnight, Cameron.”

I smile, still drunk on her. “Sweet dreams, Aimee.”

She steps inside and closes the door softly, but not before one last flicker of something passes between us—heat, warning, maybe both.

The deadbolt slides home, and I just stand there for a second, dazed. Then I exhale, dragging a hand through my hair.

Wes is going to murder me.

Totally worth it.

Chapter Eleven

Aimee

Ishut the door, click the lock, and immediately press my forehead to the wood.

God. What thehellwas that?

Cam just kissed me. He kissed me, and I liked it. All night, he's been sweet, and nervous, and funny—

Anddefinitelycollateral damage.

I groan and push off the door, kicking off my heels and flopping dramatically onto the sofa. My scent blockers are still holding strong, but my instincts are humming. All this dating, the flirting, the proximity, the attention—it’s pushing everything closer to the edge. Which, fine, whatever. It’s part of the plan. A plan that isstill on track.

Mostly, anyway.

Sleeping with Jace wasn’t supposed to happen as fast as it did, but in my defense…have you seen him? It had been a while. Alongwhile. And I’d forgotten how good it could be—not just the heat and skin and the overwhelming orgasms, but the wayhe looked at me like I was already part of something. Like Ibelonged.

Still, it wasn’t part of the plan. A strategic lapse in underwear, maybe; but everything else is still technically within mission parameters.

I’ve made myself irresistible, which is practically self-defense when it comes to Wesley fucking Knight. Objective one,achieved.And judging by the way he looked at me last time I saw him—tense jaw, clenched fists, eyes locked on me like I’d ruined his whole day by breathing—he’s one bad mood away from throwing himself through a glass window just to avoid inhaling my scent.

And then there’s Jace, who keeps sending me voice notes that are basically updates from my own unstable war front.

“He glared at my gym bag so hard I considered moving it into witness protection.”

“Cam used the last of the oat milk and Wes threatened to bite him.”

“Pretty sure he growled at the sink for five minutes straight.”

---