I nod and study each of them, until my glance lands on Golden Boy. I narrow my eyes, glaring at him in the scariest way I can muster. At least, I hope so anyway.

He stares back, the earlier smile completely vanished. He jumps to his feet and saunters forward. I gulp, feeling uncertainty stirring in the pit of my stomach, and my palms sweat from nerves. I don’t know if it’s because of his godly good looks, the fact he’s towering well over six feet on my five foot seven inches height, or because I can’t read his all too calming features, but suddenly, I feel like coming over here wasn’t my best idea.

I watch him as he approaches, slow and confident, like a lion unconcerned by the presence of a cheetah. His pressed, white button-up shirt stretches across his chest, and the loose tie around his neck hangs over his unbuttoned collar. His expression is stoic, but there’s something in his hazel eyes that makes me feel awkward and on display. He doesn’t exactly scream “bad boy,” but I know there’s something in him that sizzles just under the surface, a wildness.

He runs his fingers over his perfectly-combed, golden locks and extends his hand for a handshake, the tendons on his forearm popping below his rolled up sleeve. I stare at his arm and blink.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he says. His voice is incredibly warm, amused.

When I look up at him, his lips stretch wide in a wicked grin that shines right to his eyes. I feel light on my feet, like I’m on cloud nine or something.

“Hudson, Blake. Blake, Hudson,” Hope introduces us, reminding me that we aren’t alone.

“Blake,” Hudson says, like he’s tasting my name on his tongue. “That’s an odd name for a girl. Don’t you think, Hope?”

That brings me back to earth and lands me on my butt—figuratively speaking, of course.

“Hudson!” Hope squeals disapprovingly, backhanding him across his chest.

I glare sharply at him, thinning my lips. “Remember this moment, Golden Boy. Because karma is mighty pissed, and she pays back with interest.”

I don’t give either of them a chance to respond before I pivot and head back toward my teammates.

Wesley meets me halfway and leans down, asking, “What did you say to them? He looks like he got hit by lightning.”

I throw a glance over my shoulder and smile at the stunned expression on Hudson’s face. Good. When I turn back to Wesley, the rest of the team has caught up to us. “It’s time to bring out the big guns. You guys up for it?”

Murmurs fill the air, almost all in agreement, until Wesley speaks.

“We can’t risk getting caught, Blake.”

I grin. “Oh, trust me, there’s no way we’re getting caught.”

Excitement fizzles around us as the team starts tothrow out ideas. Golden Boy and the other stuck-up douche-nuts won’t know what hit them.