Page 41 of Gamebreaker

"You literally just called me a coward for refusing to validate your terrible drawing."

"Yes. And I stand by it."

"Your drawing looks like a giraffe had a fight with a blender and lost."

"And yet you knew exactly what it was. Which means either you're telepathic or we're connected on some deep, cosmic level."

"Or I'm just good at interpreting chaos."

"Same thing."

We won the round. Then the next one. By the fourth round, we were unstoppable, high-fiving after every correct answer, trash-talking the other teams, operating on a wavelength that made absolutely no sense given that we'd spent the first round ready to murder each other.

"How are they winning?" Morgan complained. "They hate each other!"

"Do we, though?" I asked, looking at Cam.

"Jury's still out," Cam replied, but there was warmth in her voice now. Actual warmth.

Destiny shook her head. "I'm changing my bet. I give it two weeks before they're either best friends or destroying each other's lives. No in-between."

"Bold of you to assume we need two weeks," I said. "I work fast."

"At what? Friendship or destruction?"

"Both.”

After we won the final round, Cam held up her hand for a high-five. I slapped it, and her fingers caught mine, holding on for just a second too long.

The room went quiet. Or maybe it didn't. Maybe it was just that my entire awareness narrowed down to the point where our palms met, where her fingers were big and warm and strong and wrapped around mine.

I looked up. She was already looking down at me. Those amber-brown eyes were molten, intense, and I couldn't breathe.

Her thumb brushed across the side of mine. Once.

Oh.

Oh.

Someone cleared their throat. We broke apart.

"Well," Isla said, sounding way too pleased with herself. "That was enlightening."

"Shut up," I said, heading for the kitchen to refill my vodka soda and definitely not to hide my burning face.

I made it to the patio.

The cool night air helped. So did the fact that I was alone, away from knowing looks and Isla's chaotic energy and Destiny's running commentary on my life choices. I leaned against the railing, looked out over the city lights spread below like scattered stars, and tried to remember how to be a person who didn't get flustered by a simple hand-hold.

And failed spectacularly.

The sound of the sliding door made me turn. Cam stood in the doorway, backlit by the warm light from inside, looking uncertain in a way I'd never seen her look before.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Peachy."

She moved to stand beside me, leaning her forearms against the railing, not touching but close enough that I could feel her warmth. Close enough that if I moved my hand just slightly, our fingers would brush.