Make My Move (Hannaford Prep #5) - J. Bree Page 0,48

my life.

She stumbles a little, her cheeks turning scarlet as she rushes to find some pants. I laugh at her because it’s a little too late for that shit.

I’m already hooked.

While she’s busy in the closet covering up, I head to Avery’s stash and pull out a bottle of whiskey. It’s the good shit, not that bullshit fancy crap that Blaise drinks when he wants to die. The shot glasses are a little harder to find because Floss deeply disapproves of taking shots, something about it being below her to binge drink her issues away.

It’s definitely not below me.

I sit on the floor where we’ve just eaten breakfast because she seems most comfortable down there, like things are less of an issue when you’re lying around on cushions in sweatpants and that’s the mood I’m going for here.

I’m going to find out who the fuck is after her.

When she finally comes out, wearing a pair of yoga pants that mold to her ass so fucking good that it’s still a win, her eyes take me and the alcohol in warily. I grin and hold up a shooter glass like a peace offering, praying she’ll take the shot.

There’s a pause and then she rolls her eyes and downs it like a real fucking Mounty as she slips down onto a pillow next to me, so fucking close but not actually touching me.

I take a shot and chase it with a beer, not wanting to admit to myself that I need the liquid courage. Well, courage isn’t exactly it but I need to keep my fucking cool when she starts getting evasive and weird about… fucking anything I ask her.

“Aves told me you guys swap truths. I want to give that a go.”

She arches an eyebrow at me as she rubs her palms on her yoga pants, a nervous reaction that’s one of her tells. “We also choose our own truths. I’m assuming you want to ask me questions?”

I nod and refill the glasses. “We take turns asking. If you want to pass, take the shot.”

She pulls a face at me. I think that I’ve pushed too hard and lost her already but after a second she nods, and I can’t help the wolfish smirk that spreads over my face.

Fuck.

I’m supposed to be playing it cool here.

“Ladies first.”

She snorts. “There are no ladies here, just you and the Mounty trash. But fine.”

She pauses and stares around the room, her eyes anywhere but me before finally going with a cop-out question, although the flirty tone is fucking amazing. “First kiss?”

I flick the lid from my beer at her. “Lame. Some chick in fifth grade. I can’t tell you her name, I honestly don’t remember. Yours?”

It’s such a dumb question… until she takes the shot.

What the fuck? “You’ve got to be kidding me? How is that classified information, Mounty?”

“It’s my turn to ask a question.” She refills her shot glass, her eyes never straying from the glass and there’s no fucking way I’m letting this go.

“I’ll give you a freebie. You can insist I answer something if you answer this one.”

When she finally answers, her voice is nothing but a throaty whisper. “You. Well, one before you but I don’t count it because… well, I just don’t. Just you because I also don’t count Blaise’s pity kiss.”

A punch to the dick would’ve been less shocking to me.

I was her first kiss except… fuck, Joey attacked her last year. She threatened him with a knife to the dick to get away from her but that would mean—

Surely not.

The girl from the slums of Mounts Bay is a virgin?!

She didn’t fucking feel like one when she was sitting in my lap wearing tiny fucking scraps of lace and grinding on my dick like she was made for it. Fuck. Fuck.

I grab the bottle of whiskey and drink it straight because I need more than a tiny fucking shot glass will give me right now.

Fuck.

Get your head together, Arbour. Because, even if she’s a virgin, there’s still someone out there threatening her and now I’m beyond fucking pissed about it.

There’s a vulnerability about her now in my eyes and I will gut any man, woman, or child that might be a threat to her without fucking hesitation.

I try to save face with her, leaning back against the coffee table and smirking.

She looks startled but relieved, clearing her throat. “My turn. Why get a face tattoo? I know you have the chest piece but most people fill up