Wicked Nights by Anne Marsh Read Free Book Online

threatened?
    “You cheated.” He strode toward the elevator.
    “Excuse me?” He could hear the laughter in her voice. She knew precisely what he meant.
    “The—” he waved a hand “—shoe thing you did in there wasn’t nice. Or fair.”
    “From where I was standing, you were the competition.”
    “Sitting,” he muttered, before he could stop himself. “And what you did was definitely cheating.”
    “Did I distract you?”
    “Piper.” He leaned over her to reach the elevator buttons first. “You showed me the goods. In a business
    meeting.”
    “I’ll take that as a yes. Mission accomplished. I’m going to win our bet, Cal. Maybe you should prepare
    yourself.”
    She brushed past him into the elevator, and there was no way she mistook his attraction to her. He, on
    the other hand, decided to take the stairs. Followed by a ten-mile run.
    4
    PIPER HAD DISCOVERED her love of jumping when she was two. That was the story her mother
    told, at any rate. Toddler Piper had climbed up onto the back of the couch and then jumped off, both
    chubby fists raised in the air over her head. After achieving a remarkable amount of air for someone who’d
    weighed a mere twenty pounds, she’d crash-landed on the family dog, who’d proved to be both a good
    sport and an ally, letting her repeat her jump move twice more before her mother had been alerted by the
    noise and intervened.
    When she was five, she’d discovered the springboard at the community pool. Then, at ten, she’d joined
    the local swim team. Racing was fun, but diving was better. When she’d dived, she’d flown. Performing
    gymnastics midair was an adrenaline rush better than any jump, and she’d ripped through the water leaving
    almost no trace of her entry. She’d won every meet and moved on to college and the NCAA championships.
    A berth on the national team headed to the world championships? No problem. She’d earned that, too.
    She’d been the golden child, the star diver—right up until she wasn’t. It had turned out the one thing
    Piper’s diving career hadn’t prepared her for was losing.
    The Accident—and she always thought of the day in capital letters—had been just that. An accident.
    And it hadn’t happened at the pool, either. She hadn’t made a misstep on her vault or misjudged her
    somersault or twist. She simply hadn’t known Lance Peterson had started drinking at eight o’clock in the
    morning and stopped approximately twenty minutes before he’d invited her to take a spin on a Jet Ski with
    him. He’d seemed fine, but no, in the absence of an open container in his hand, she hadn’t insisted on a
    Breathalyzer or quizzed him on his drinking. Hindsight, however, was everything.
    Being naively oblivious, she’d hopped on the Jet Ski when Lance had invited her to ride, because it had
    been that kind of afternoon: a group of casual friends hanging on the beach and enjoying ice cream and the
    sunshine. In the middle of the harbor, she’d realized Lance was impaired when her close proximity to him
    had made misinterpreting the alcoholic fumes wafting from him impossible. Of course she’d promptly
    snapped, “Go back,” in his ear, digging her arms tighter around his waist. Driving drunk was horrifically
    stupid, and she’d already been measuring the distance to shore. The swim hadn’t looked too bad, although
    even she had preferred not to take a chance with all the boat traffic zipping through the harbor.
    Unfortunately, Lance had made an easy dismount impossible, cutting in and out, whooping as he’d driven
    the Jet Ski left and then right. She’d have to pick her moment or convince him to head back.
    “Lance—” She’d gotten his name out, Cal’s motorboat had come around the breakwater and Lance had
    cut it too close. So close that she’d seen Cal’s face, the look of fierce, calm concentration as he’d thrown the
    wheel right, ramming the boat into the breakwater as he’d tried to avoid the smashup.