Page 49 of Without a Trace
Lena choked on her drink. “This is getting dangerous.”
“Danger is the point,” Kane said, winking.
Trace kept his distance. As if he was memorizing the moment. Or waiting for it to implode.
I looked over at Alden sprawled out on a beanbag chair, shirtless, tan, and smug. He raised a brow when he caught me watching.
“Your turn, Monroe,” he said, voice rough from laughing too much.
I licked salt off the rim of my cup. “Most likely to—Most likely to fuck someone they shouldn’t.”
The group lost it.
Lena let out a sharp gasp. Sloane screamed, and slapped her hand over her mouth, already halfway laughing and horrified.
I turned my head slowly, meeting Trace’s eyes across the deck.
“No comment.”
The silence roared.
“Two drinks!” Sloane yelled, losing it. “That’s two drinks, and a shirt comes off!”
I stood slowly and raised my drink in surrender, letting the moment stretch before I peeled off my cover-up skirt instead. The red bikini clung to me, heat rising as I sat back down without a word.
Trace’s gaze dropped, slow and scorching, then snapped back up to mine. Unapologetic.
He didn’t look away.
I wanted him to sit in it—the tension, the want, the goddamn chaos we kept pretending didn’t exist.
It wasn’t fair, how good it felt to make him unravel. To watch him fall apart without laying a single hand on him. No apology in my eyes. Just the heat rising from my skin and the fucked-up satisfaction knowing I had that kind of power.
“Okay,” Lena said quickly, trying to recover. “Let’s keep going. No more softballs.”
Kane nodded, pointing at her with his drink. “Lena. Most likely to survive a zombie apocalypse?”
Her face went bright red.
“Uh—” she laughed. “Definitely Sloane.”
Sloane beamed, mock flexing. “Damn right.”
“You’re all evil,” Lena muttered.
“But we’re fun,” I whispered, topping off her drink.
The sun slipped below the horizon. The music faded. Trace stood, finally.
He stretched, slow, spine cracking.
“Where you going?” I asked.
He looked at me for a long second. “Bathroom.”
But it sounded like: Run before I do something I can’t take back.
***
