Page 319 of Ruthless Court

That last one is still causing problems.

My mouth tingles.

Not imaginary tingles either.

Actual, physical evidence that five minutes ago I had both hands buried in Kane Haverhill’s hair while kissing him on the back of his truck like I had been secretly training for the event.

I suppress another shiver.

His arm tightens around me.

“Cold?”

“No.”

“You’re shaking.”

“Emotional tremor.”

“Sounds serious.”

“Potentially fatal.”

He laughs against my hair.

The sound vibrates through his chest where my shoulder rests against him.

I should move.

I don’t.

That might be the strangest part of tonight.

I don’t want to.

The lights below us stretch across the valley in gold and white threads. From up here Stanford is just another collection of glowing buildings among thousands.

No arena.

No athlete quad.

No gossip accounts.

No Ryan.

No Dad’s gym.

Kane’s hand rests loosely over mine.

Nothing demanded.

Nothing expected.

Just there.

I yawn.

A huge one.