Partner Games
Page 35

Then we went up the stairs, and he led me toward a door. A red and black blur was down the hall, and I lifted my busted glasses to see Georgie’s face plastered to Plate’s, his arms around my twin’s skinny body.
I immediately freaked, bolting down the hall toward them, red in my vision—
Swift grabbed me by the waist and jerked me backward, against him. “Hold up there, Captain America,” he whispered in my ear. “She’s on him, not the other way around.”
My nostrils flared, and I glared at him, then squinted through my busted glasses again. Sure enough, Georgie’s hand moved through Plate’s hair, and as I watched, her leg lifted and curled around his thigh.
Oh. Well now. I pursed my lips and gave Swift a prim look, heat on my cheeks. “I see.”
“Looks like they kissed and made up.”
Looked more like they’d discovered each other’s tonsils, but I didn’t say it aloud.
“Let’s give them some privacy, eh?” His arm squeezed my waist and he headed back toward his room, and then got the door open. And then I went into a hotel room alone with a hot guy.
I’d never done that before. Just thinking about it made me incredibly flustered. I tucked my broken glasses away again so I wouldn’t lose them, and set my backpack down near the doorway.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Swift said, and headed for the restroom. He disappeared inside and I stared at the hotel room. Bed. Nightstand. TV. Phone. There was no place else to sit except the bed. Feeling very much like a prude, I sat gingerly on the corner of the bed and glanced around.
There was something colorful on the corner of the nightstand, so I peeked at it as I heard the taps go in the bathroom. Swift’s passport, and some money from a few other countries. He came out the door again just as I picked up the passport, and I jerked and dropped it immediately. “I wasn’t looking!”
He laughed. “Relax, Tiny. You weren’t stealing money from us, were you?”
I stared at him, shocked. “I would never!”
“I know. I’m just teasing you.” I squinted and just made out a flash of his smile before he came and sat down on the bed next to me. Suddenly, my senses were enveloped with Swift. The scent of his deodorant, the faint musk of sweat, the unique, delicious smell that was his skin. I inhaled, stiffening. Oh God, he was sitting next to me on the bed. What was I supposed to do now?
But he only reached past me and handed me his passport. “You wanted to see this, right?”
“I was just being nosy—“
“It’s cool. Can I see yours, too?”
“O-of course.” I jumped up from the bed, ignoring the passport he held out to me, and retrieved mine from my bag. I held it out to him with a trembling hand, trying my best not to be a virginal ninny.
“Come sit,” Swift said, and I heard the blur of him pat the bed.
Biting my lip, I went to his side again. Before I could sit on the edge of the bed, he grabbed me by the waist and swung me into his lap, parking me on one of his thighs. My face grew scalding hot. Seated like this, his scent enfolded me, along with his warmth. He was a big guy – I guess I never noticed how big until now. Bigger than me, and I was a tall stringbean.
He held his passport out again, and I handed him mine.
After we exchanged, I flipped his open and squinted, then held it away from me, trying to read his name. His picture was a bad one, the look on his face dopey and somewhat surprised. He was much cuter in person. “Um, good picture.”
“Nah, it’s crap,” he said. “I wasn’t paying attention and that was when they took the shot, of course.” He shut mine and tapped it against my arm. “You look cute, though. You could model like your sister.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious,” he said, and his hand squeezed my waist tighter. “You’re beautiful.”
I felt all squirmy and shy at that, and handed him back his passport. “I’m too blind to read your real name.”
He snorted. “It’s terrible. You can just call me Swift.”
“But…I want to know. Really.” I tried to oh-so-casually put an arm on his shoulder.
“It’s…Richard.”
I giggled. “Do people call you Dick?”
“Not if they want to live,” he growled, pulling me against him and flopping back on the bed, carrying me with him. “Any other questions, Miss Nosy?”
I was breathless at being so close to him in the bed, in his arms. Our noses were inches apart, and his breath fanned warm on my face. “Are you really a one percenter?”
“Uh…it’s not important.”
“Um, that’s a weird answer.”
“Seriously. It’s not important.” He moved a bit closer, until his lips were almost brushing mine.
“What’s the name of your club?” I asked. “Is it Hell’s Angels?”
He snorted. “The club isn’t important either.”
I bit my lip. “Are you an outlaw? I saw an episode of Sons of Anarchy once.”
He groaned. “Can we please not talk about that right now?”
“Okay, fine.” I shrugged, hating that he was being so cagey about the biker thing. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Let’s talk about…why your lips aren’t on mine right now.”
“My lips—“ I stammered a moment before his mouth descended on mine.
 
 
Chapter Twenty-Three
 

“Do I want to talk about how I spent my downtime? Uh, no. No comment. Go bother someone else.” – Swift, Team One Percent, The World Races  
 
Holyholyholycow.
I was kissing Swift. Me, Clementine Price, she of the nerdy invertebrate degree in paleontology, she who was utterly invisible to any and all men, was kissing the hottest guy I’d ever seen.
And he’d initiated the kiss. He’d wanted to kiss me.
This…smelled like a set-up.
I pulled away from the kiss and stared at Swift, confused.
He grimaced a little. “Moving too fast? Sorry. I just—“
“Is this a trick?”
“A trick?” He looked truly offended, I’d give him that. “What do you mean, a trick?”
I sat up in the bed, feeling panicked and awkward. “You know. Did someone dare you to date the ugly twin? Is that what this is?”
“Are you insane?” He took my hand in his and pulled me back down on the bed, and my head landed on a pillow with a thump. “You do realize you look just like your sister, right? Seeing that you’re twins and all?”
“She’s thinner than me,” I pointed out. “And I wear glasses, and our hair is different, and she’s outgoing—“
“And she doesn’t have that big, meaty brain of yours. And she doesn’t go on and on about mollusk penises like they’re something to be excited about—“
“Siphuncles,” I corrected. “And they’re not penises—“
“And she doesn’t love Guns N’ Roses. And she’s not fearless in the face of a task she doesn’t want to do. She doesn’t just suck up and do it because everyone’s waiting on her. The twin I like is smart and strong and beautiful, and I don’t know how she’s managed to fly under the radar for so long, because she’s driving me up a wall with how gorgeous and intelligent she is.”