Crouched down next to her, Danny shot her a grin. He was looking far too enthusiastic. Sam would even go as far as to say Danny’s killer wasn’t the only one having fun in all this. “Hey. I just thought of what we can call that kiss move back there,” he whispered. “A fakeout-make—”
“Danny!” Sam exploded, cheeks burning. She had hoped he wouldn’t mention that kiss. Like, ever. “Let’s figure out a plan.”
Danny made a face. “What. Sneak into that? No sweat.”
“What are you going to do?” Sam asked warily, not liking the green lightening that was building in his irises.
“Nothing bad,” Danny promised. He held out his hand. “Ready?”