Page 74 of Faking the Shot
“Well, consider this me trying to make your life easier, not adding to your list of debts.”
“That’s sweet, but unnecessary. I can ask Noelle to come with me and trust me, shopping with my sister is an Olympic sport. It’ll be a bonding experience. Besides, don’t you know anything about women? I have to try on all my options first. It takes time.”
“You’ve clearly never been to practice with me. I’m very good with time management.”
“Oh, is that what you call standing around with a stick while your goalie does all the real work?” she teases, her voice lighter now.
I groan, letting the playful jab roll off me. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“And yet, you still asked me to the gala. Who’s the real sucker here?”
“You,” I deadpan. “For agreeing. What you don’t know is that I’ll be figuring out ways to fuck you in a fancy dress around the ballroom and the hotel.”
She lets out a scandalized laugh, her voice pitching higher. “Kaden, you can’t just say that. What if someone overheard you?”
I smirk, leaning back against the headboard, savoring her reaction. “We’re on the phone, Val. Who’s going to overhear me? Your potted plant?”
“Don’t disrespect Fern like that,” she shoots back, trying to sound serious, but I can hear the grin in her voice. “And for the record, you wouldn’t dare. Not at some hoity-toity gala.”
“Oh, wouldn’t I?” I counter, my voice dropping lower, teasing. “You’ve clearly underestimated my ability to find dark corners and distractions.”
“Dark corners? What is this, a Victorian romance? Are you going to ravish me behind the garden?” she teases, but there’s a breathy quality to her words that tells me I’m getting under her skin.
“Careful, Val. Keep talking like that, and I might just do it. You in a fancy dress, hair up, looking all proper. It’d be a shame not to mess you up a little.”
She groans. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet, you’re still agreeing to go with me. What does that say about you?”
“That I’m clearly making questionable life choices,” she retorts, her laugh softening the blow.
“Questionable? Please. You’re lucky I even asked you. I could’ve gone solo and left you wondering what I was up to.”
“Oh, I already know what you’d be up to. Standing in a corner, glaring at people like you’re auditioning to be the next James Bond.”
“Wrong. I’d be standing in a corner, glaring at people while imagining you in that dress, except it’s hiked up around your hips.”
She gasps dramatically. “You’re insufferable. Do you think about anything else?”
“Not when it comes to you.” My voice drops into something softer, more sincere, but still with an edge of mischief. “You make it damn hard to focus on anything else.”
There’s a pause, just long enough to let her words settle. “You really need to work on your priorities.”
“Trust me, Val. You are my priority.”
Another pause, this one filled with a tension that’s thick enough to taste. “You’re trouble,” she finally says, her voice quieter but no less playful.
“Only for you, sweetheart. And only if you’re lucky.”
“Fair enough,” she says with a laugh. “Okay, I’ve really got to go. My sister’s gonna kill me if I don’t call her back.”
“Fine. But don’t blame me when you’re stuck in traffic looking for parking.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll just call you to complain.”
“And I’ll hang up.”
“Liar.”
