Part 4 (1/2)
”That's true. Maybe I'm a serial killer, and Finley and I have this big elaborate plan to make you our next victim.”
Maverick grins. ”Serial killers, huh? That would mean you've done this many times before, right?”
”Yep. Tons. We use aliases and everything.”
”And the jellyfish sting?”
”All part of the plan. A way to lure you in.”
”Hmm. Well, I'd have to say you're doing a great job. Never once have I suspected my life was in danger with you.”
”We're experts.”
”Definitely, yeah. I'm scared now. Terrified.” Maverick stops walking and faces me. ”I guess if we're doing the whole confession thing, it's my turn to come clean. I work for the Central Intelligence Agency, and I've been tracking you and Finley for two years now. You girls are as professional as it gets. You don't make mistakes out there. No prints, no DNA, no evidence. It's impressive.”
”Wow,” I say, staring down at the drink in my hand. ”I've been caught. So where do we go from here?”
”We're at quite the impa.s.se.”
”That's a problem.”
Maverick moves in closer, just enough for me to feel heat waft off his body. ”A big problem.”
He lifts my chin, and our eyes lock. Gooseb.u.mps break out along my arms. Maverick's gaze is to blame, I know. The way it's anchoring me into place.
His mouth lowers to mine, and when our mouths meet, the moment is over too soon. A soft, quick brush of lips and he's gone. I open my eyes slowly, still feeling him on me. It's been a year since someone kissed me.
I liked it.
Maverick grins. ”Maybe we can work out a plea bargain or something.”
”I could deal with that. Finley might fight it, though.”
”She's out of the country, out of my jurisdiction.”
”So am I.”
”I guess you're free and clear, then.”
Maverick sits down on the sand, and I do the same, our legs barely touching. The moon reflects off the ocean, leaving a path of silver dancing on the ripples of water. It's so beautiful I wish I had my sketchbook.
For a moment, I study the angles, shapes, and hues of the scene in front of me. It would make a gorgeous tri-split black-and-white.
”What are you doing?” Maverick asks, leaning forward.
I don't realize I'm drawing with my finger in the sand. I stop, my gaze flitting to his. For a second, I'm not sure what to say. ”Drawing.”
”Drawing? Is that a hobby of yours?”
”Sort of,” I answer, brus.h.i.+ng my hand over the doodle to erase it. ”It's like therapy. A way to soothe the soul, I guess.”
”You don't have to stop.”
”I don't have paper or pencils. There's not much I can do.”
”ALI!”
I twist at the sound of my name being screamed in a happy sort of way. It can only be one person. The one who ignored my calls.
Finley has her shoes in one hand and is skipping across the sand toward me. She's not alone either. Her laughter rings out through the night, and it's easy to tell she's had a few too many. The guy trailing her is carrying more drinks.
She falls to her knees behind me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and kissing my cheek.
”I love this place!” she squeals. ”Can we live here?”
”What happened to the check-in rule?” I ask.
”I'm doing it now, see?” she says. ”Check in! I'm allllll gooooood.” Then she looks at Maverick. ”Maverick, right? I'm Finley.”
”Nice to formally meet you.”
”Very nice.” She bites her lip as she regards me. She's nodding, her eyes doing that thing where she thinks we have a telepathy connection. We kinda do. She's thinking about the list she made for me, specifically number one.
Finley's date finally reaches us. He's not the guy who informed her of the party. This guy has dirty blond hair and lacks the killer tan of the original date. Finley never gets stood up, so I wonder what happened for her to change partners.
Before she has a chance to introduce him, Maverick chin-ups in his direction. ”What's up, Jake?”
”Not much, man. You?” Jake says.
”Same.”
Finley's brows furrow in confusion. ”You know each other?”
Maverick motions toward Finley's date. ”Alieya, this is Jake, one of the guys I came with. Also law. Jake, this is Alieya. I helped her with a jellyfish sting earlier. Finley is her best friend.”
Jake nods. ”Cool.”
Finley crawls around me and sits down, quickly disregarding the connection between her date and Maverick. ”We're on our way back to the party. You coming?”
”Um...” I look over at Maverick, but he's talking to Jake. ”I don't know.”
Finley waggles her brows, and I know what she's about to ask. ”So are you going back to his room tonight?”
Bingo.
I elbow her in the ribs. That's number one on her Ali-in-Cancun list: to get laid. I didn't approve the list.