Page 49 of Blindside Sinner

“Barely legal? C’mon, now., Sloanie baby. All the women I date arewomen.”

“Do you want a prize for adhering to age of consent laws?”

I don’t know why I’m baiting him, when all I really want to do—all that I’ll admit to wanting to do, anyway—is run him off. Make him leave, preferably for the rest of the night. But in lieu of that, I’d like to at least send him back to the bar.

Instead, he sticks close. His voice drops to a dangerous register as he says, “You were flirting with the douche in the polo.”

“Even if I was, flirting isn't against the rules. Besides, being nice isn't flirting.” Plus, it was the douche in the polo flirting with me. Not the other way around.

“It looked like flirting to me.”

“Maybe you need glasses.” I scowl in his direction. “What difference does it make to you if I flirt with someone, Beckett?”

I save his full name for in the mornings when I wake him and for when I’m about to tell him to piss off. Right now, I’m notwaking him, which only leaves one other option.

“Sweetheart, you can flirt with whoever you like. Just don’t do it in front of me.”

Hm.Those are some awfully possessive words for a guy who allegedly hates my guts.

“You tell her, son!” Dixon crows as he returns with an armful of Long Island Iced Teas. I look up suddenly to see my table is overrun with Wave players and they’re watching me and Beck go at it, oohing and ahhing with every volley like we’re at a tennis match.

“Get him, girl. He isn’t the boss of you,” Monroe says, sliding me a side-eye as Dixon pulls up a chair and spins it so he’s sitting backward.

“Don’t mind Beck, Sloan. He’s not getting any these days and it’s making him a little uptight. He told me it’s been?—”

Beck holds up a hand. “Can it, Hayes.”

Dixon throws his head back and roars with laughter. “I have to hand it to you, Sloan. I haven’t seen Beck on his heels like this in…” He cocks his head to the side and frowns. “Ever, actually.”

“Maybe you could fuck off, Dix,” snarls Beck.

“And he’s touchy, too.”

Dix is still smiling. To be honest, it’s a nice smile. I could look at it for a while. Especially knowing that Beck doesn’t want me looking at it at all.

“Oh, I’m aware,” I chime in. “It’s like spending my days with a toddler who’s missed his little nap.”

Everyone at the table laughs—except Beck, but that’s to be expected. “As if you’re such a joy to live with,” he snarls.

“What are you trying to say, Beck?”

“I’m trying to say you have a smart mouth.”

I shrug. “So?”

“So I can think of about ninety better things to do with your mouth than spout off all the time.”

I’m suddenly thankful for the garish red tinge in the lights overhead, because I’m blushing hot in my cheeks, and if itweren’t for the lights, Beck would see it for the dead giveaway that it is.

I manage to keep the wobble out of my voice as I say, “You keep dreaming, big boy.”

“We’ll see.”

His murmur is like velvet against my skin, smooth and soft. I don’t want to be affected, don’t want the heat or the desire pooling in my belly, but I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t know how to undo what he’s doing to me.

Worse, I don’t know if I want to.

“Give him hell, Sloan.” Dix smiles again. But as nice as it is, he isn’t the reason my heart is all a-flutter and my belly is tingling. He looks at Beck. “I think Viv got you the exactly right match for a babysit—I mean, assistant.”

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