Game of Hearts (Stacked Deck Book 3)

by Emilia Finn

  He sighs. “Don’t do the I told you so thing. It’s unattractive and poison for a budding relationship.”

  “We have a relationship?” I push away from his chest so I can look into his eyes. “You’re going to try, right? Don’t ask me to leave when we’ve only just begun.”

  He shakes his head, fracturing my heart just a little before saying, “No, I’m not sending you anywhere. I can’t do it.”

  “Can I stay tonight?” Nerves swarm through my blood like hornets, stinging and hot. Painful. “Please?”

  He nods. “Can you stay every night? I don’t wanna sleep in this bed without you anymore. You flipped a switch, Luce. You’ve fucked it all up, and now I can’t let go.”

  “Finally.” I roll my eyes. “I swear, you’re more bullheaded than Deck. At least he openly admits that he loves me.”

  Lips press to my brow, I feel them curve up even as he peppers kisses on my skin. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it back earlier. When I dropped you at home. It was wrong of me to let you walk away without hearing me say it.”

  “It was your one true screwup,” I admit.

  “I know.” He sighs. “I’m so sorry that you thought—”

  “No,” I interrupt with a playful smile. “I knew you loved me back. That was your screwup. I knew the answer already, so when you didn’t say it, I knew you were holding back. That proved that you were lying about other stuff. I went inside, waited for you to leave. Told my mom I was going to sneak into your apartment—”

  “You told your mom? Lucy! What the fuck?”

  Laughter bubbles inside my chest. “I told her I was going to seduce you, and since I haven’t gone home yet, I suspect she’s now aware her baby girl isn’t as innocent as she once was.”

  “She’s going to kill me,” he whispers. “Holy fuck, I’m a dead man. I had no clue this was how it was all going to end – falling from cranes, faulty hearts, running in the street – so many options, but here we are, and your fighter mom is gonna stomp me to death.”

  “She is not,” I laugh.

  “Yes,” he practically shouts. “She is. She told me a million times. And when she’s done, Jimmy’s gonna take a shot. They warned me about this, Lucy. They fuckin’ told me.”

  “Stop it.” I can’t help the bubbling laughter that rolls through my chest. “My mom is not gonna hurt you.”

  “Bet you a trillion bucks she squares up. And she’ll know we didn’t use a condom. Fuck knows how she’ll know, but she will. It’s a young mom radar thing they got. She’ll figure it out, she’ll call my mom and snitch, then it’s gonna be so much worse. They’ll stomp me until my brains pop.”

  “You’re so dramatic.” I scoot closer when Deck rolls and squishes me, then with a shake of my head, flip up to sit on Mac’s hips when the dog rolls further into my space. “He’s such a shitty puppy,” I laugh. “What the hell am I supposed to do with a giant dog that is stronger than me and doesn’t listen to commands or possess general good manners?”

  “Fucked if I know.” Shyness and nerves long gone, with a filthy smirk marring his face, Mac reaches forward and cups my breasts like I invited him to play. He squeezes them, molds them, lets his grin grow, and reminds me of the boy I met almost a decade ago. Troublemaker, no fear, no manners. “If I’d known this morning how today would end, I probably wouldn’t have whacked off. I could’ve saved it all for you.”

  “Pig.” Laughing, I lay forward and use his chest as a pillow. “You’re so disgusting.”

  “You love that about me. You love that I’m weird. It balances us out, since you’re serious enough for both of us.”

  I nod and inhale the sweet scent of his aftershave, mixed with the light tang of sweat. “That’s fairly accurate. Every relationship needs that balance, right? Imagine if you dated someone like you.”

  “We’d die,” he laughs. “We’d do something stupid and die. But it would probably be instant and painless, so…”

  I smile. “And if I dated someone like me? We’d die of boredom. It would be drawn-out and horrible. The universe has this under control. Whatever the plan, it’s already set. Which is why you’re so damn annoying, making me wait for this.”

  “The universe had already decided?” He presses a kiss to the top of my head to punctuate his question. “You think it was already written?”

  “Uh huh.” I slide my fingertips along his ribs. “I think it was decided back when I was a kid and you said I had a pancake ass. I whooped you so bad to teach you a lesson, and that’s when we knew.” I sigh. “I was your balancing half.”

  “Can you imagine letting that prick get away with that kind of disrespect?” His chest bounces with laughter. “He needed to be sat the hell down before he got cocky.”

  “And here we are. Finally.”

  “Mmm.” His hands cruise along my back and ass. “Luce?”

  “Mm?”

  “Remember how I texted and asked you out to breakfast? Then ice cream? And every time, it didn’t happen?”

  “Mmhm.”

  “Want some pancakes?”

  “Now?”

  He flashes a beautiful smile when I lift my head and meet his eyes. “Now. Right now,” he presses. “It’s never the wrong time to eat pancakes.”

  “It’s…” I push up to peek at the alarm clock nearby. “Nearly two in the morning. When do you plan to sleep?”

  “Not for another couple hours at least. Come on.” He picks me up, lifts the blankets, and sucks frigid air under the covers that bites at my exposed skin.

  “Fuck!” He hollers and dumps me back in the space he just vacated. Tossing the blankets back over me, he darts to the end of the bed in search of clothes. He doesn’t grab the shirt he had on earlier, but sweatpants and a hoodie – Rollin On, of course.

  Instead of grabbing the jeans I laid out when I got here, he grabs a clean pair of sweats from his dresser, places them under the covers for me, then my hoodie after that.

  He’s warming them for me.

  Placing a soft kiss on my lips when I do nothing but watch him with a smile, he pulls back, but only an inch or so, and looks into my eyes. “We don’t have heating here, so you gotta get dressed. Take as many layers from my closet as you want. Triple layer the hoodies. I might even have gloves laying around somewhere.”

  “First of all.” I pull him closer with a hand behind his head. “It’s December, not Antarctica. The snow has barely begun. I came here in only one layer of clothes, which implies one layer is enough. And you need to stop overthinking this. Don’t try to impress me now that you finally got lucky.”

  “My building doesn’t have heating.” He buzzes his lips over mine, I suspect to distract me from what he thinks is the worst thing in the world to admit. “It’s freezing in this place. I don’t want you to get cold.”

  “So I’ll put clothes on. But you need to chill. Pancakes?”

  His eyes remain a little wary, embarrassed. But his smile fights it. “Pancakes. I even have the bottled kind, just like your mom’s secret recipe.”

  I snort and begin working the sweatpants on while remaining under the covers. “Is there any other kind? Only a sucker would make them from scratch when the bottled stuff costs ninety-nine cents.”

  “I’m no one’s sucker. Here.” He grabs socks from his drawer, and works his hands under the covers.

  He never has to take care of me like this, but if it makes him feel better, then I’m not going to rain on his parade.

  “Add milk,” he says, “not water, and they’re fluffier.”

  “I know. I taught you that.”

  I push the covers aside before I get my hoodie on. With a mini squeal that makes Deck open his eyes, I tug my bra on and the hoodie over top, and because I’m going for warmth over attraction, I tuck the hoodie into my sweatpants and look down at myself.

  “I look like an idiot.”

  He laughs and pulls me into the warmest, most amazing hug. It’s the type of hug my daddy gives, the kind that promises un
conditional love for the rest of my life. “You’re wearing my clothes, and you just climbed out of my bed.” He cups my face with both hands and smooshes my cheeks. “I’m not sure you’ve ever been sexier.”

  “Gonna climb back into your bed once we’ve eaten.” I grin when his eyes flash with something kind of dirty. “Gonna sleep in all morning long. Snuggle with my man, with my dog. You’re gonna bring me coffee in bed, and I swear, that’ll be my happy place.”

  “Coffee in bed?” His eyes flicker between mine. “That’s what turns you on?”

  I laugh. “The first sip a day is magical. I used to always say it’s better than an orgasm, but that’s before I knew better.”

  I take his hand in both of mine, rub it to create warmth as we move out of his rumpled room and into the dark hall.

  “You were gone a long time tonight.” I head straight to his fridge when we enter the kitchen.

  Maybe I don’t live here, and maybe he’s nervous right now, but I’m not. He’s my best friend, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him make this weird between us.

  I open the fridge and let my heart tumble just a little when I find almond milk instead of cow’s. I haven’t asked him about it since my bullshit rules about diets and sex. But he did it anyway.

  “I went for a drive.” He slides through the gap between me and cabinets, only to grab a pan from the corner cabinet, and set it on the burner. “I had a lot to think about. Didn’t wanna come home yet.”

  “I had time to talk to my mom, to get Deck’s stupid ass here, sneak him up the stairs without anyone seeing. I undressed, got into your bed… I swear, I was ready to start watching a movie.”

  He flips the burner on with a playful grin. “You weren’t worried about my safety? I was gone that long, and not once did you stop to think, ‘Gee, I hope my best friend is okay’?”

  “No, I heard you driving around.” I laugh when he looks at me with what can only be described as chagrin. “I know the sound of your car, so I heard you cruising. Up the hill, around the lake, up and down Main. Pretty sure you even went back toward my estate.”

  “Just wanted to check you were safe.” He grabs the pre-prepared bottle of pancake mix from the pantry and slams it against the counter in a practiced move to dislodge the lumps.

  He didn’t even think about it. Just like in fighting, his muscle memory brings the bottle down with a sharp one-two slam, then he removes the cap and starts pouring the milk I set down by his elbow.

  “Your estate was quiet except for Jack’s place. I assumed you were safe and sound in bed.”

  “Instead I was here, in a guy’s bed. Nakey and warm, waiting to seduce you.”

  “I swear, if I’d known what I would walk into…” He shakes his head. “I’m not sure if I’d have ran here faster, or run away.”

  “You would have run away. I’m sure of it.” I rifle through his utensil drawer in search of a spatula while he fastens the lid back on the bottle and starts shaking. “If you’d known, you would have overanalyzed it, ruined it. Probably committed yourself to a monastery.”

  “And left you all alone, nakey and warm,” he adds with a sad expression, “and waiting. Eventually you would have gotten bored waiting for me.”

  I shrug and accept the bottle when he’s done shaking.

  We’re like a well-oiled machine, a team, as I make my way to the now-hot pan, spray it with a little oil, then pour the batter into cute little heart-shaped blobs.

  “I was bored waiting. I was frustrated as hell, ready to break your leg to get you laid up in bed for an extended time. This was going to happen sooner or later, so when you didn’t tell me you loved me back.” I scoff and watch the bubbles pop in the batter. “I knew you were weak. I knew it was time to jump.”

  “And by jump, you mean on me?”

  “Mm. Precisely.”

  I lean back when he steps up behind me and circles my hips with a gentle embrace. He rests his hand on my hipbone, the other sneaks up to grab my boob. And his breath whistles in my ear as he laughs and sends the flyaway strands fluttering.

  “If I’d just met you, tried to bed you, and was getting the same bullshit that you were laying down, I probably would have walked away. Because you know I’m allergic to melodrama.” I smile when he bites my earlobe. “But it’s you. And I know why you like to walk around all grumpy and shit. So I did what I had to do.”

  “I used to watch you sleep.”

  I flip the browning pancakes and laugh. “Okay, stalker. That’s a weird thing to tell a girl on your first night together.”

  He scoffs. “Hardly our first night together. I used to watch you sleep during the lock-ins at the gym over the years. I was so sure I would marry you someday, so I was getting started.”

  “You’re so crazy.” I lower the heat beneath the pan, spin in his arms, and stare up into his sparkling green eyes. “You were gonna marry me someday? And you figured to get there, you’d continue to tell me to go away?”

  “No.” He presses a kiss to the tip of my nose. “That was before I got bitter. Back when the only thing I had to consider when shacking up with a girl was who would get to use the TV remote. That was when my life was easier.”

  “And now?”

  He shrugs and avoids my eyes. “Now, I’m grown, and a little bit bitter that the world is so expensive. But I don’t wanna send you away anymore, so…”

  “Thank god. I’m so sick of being told no.”

  I spin back and finish cooking, and in my mind, I plan for two o’clock pancakes for the rest of my life. For special occasions, anniversaries, tournament wins… perhaps tournament losses. I plan to repeat this, because being here with him in a silent world while everyone else sleeps feels almost as good as a warm hug.

  I stack a plate high with blobs of pancake, keep the stack in the warmed oven so they don’t go cold, and keep cooking until the bottle is empty, then I take them all to the living room, to the coffee table he’s set with syrup, butter, plates, and glasses of milk – almond.

  “I don’t have a table…” He turns away, hiding his face, as I set the stack in the middle. “Sorry.”

  “This is a table.”

  And in my mind, I adjust my lifetime plans. Not just pancakes at two in the morning. But pancakes in the living room, pancakes while sitting on the floor and leaning together like we’ve been to war together.

  “Come on.” I plop down and cross my legs, then I snag his hand and pull him down beside me. “You need to stop worrying about dumb things.”

  “It’s freezing in here, you have to wear sixty layers just so you don’t get frostbite, we’re eating a ninety-nine-cent meal, and we have to eat on the floor because I have no table.”

  “I love pancakes, I love sweatpants, and I love you. So how about you shut the hell up with the whine fest, and eat with me?”

  He fixes his long legs and watches me with a lifted brow that digs for what he perceives to be the truth. He’s looking for the chink in my armor, the lies in my words. “Just like that?”

  “Just like that. You know me, Mac. Jesus, you’ve known me half of my damn life, and you’re sitting here freaking that I’ve suddenly turned into a high-maintenance socialite?”

  “It’s not that I think you’ve changed.” He clears his throat and carefully selects the nicest heart pancake from the stack. When I think he’s selected it for himself, he only reaches in my direction and plops it onto my plate. “It’s that I think you’re worthy of a socialite life. And I have absolutely no way to provide it. To be with me means pancakes on the floor, and thick socks to keep your toes intact.”

  “Good.” I lean closer and wrap my arms around his in a hug. “I like this. I hope we get to do this more often.”

  He shakes his head with what I’m certain is disgust. There’s happiness in there too, because he wants this with me, but disgust coats his mood, because he’s worked so damn hard for so long to escape what he thinks is barely a step up from a squatter’s lifestyle. “You’
re so weird. You could be living in a palace. Instead you choose this.”

  “I choose you. Now shut up and eat.”

  I pick up my knife and fork, open the tub of butter, and take a chunk, only to drop it on his pancakes with a grin. I take a little for myself and begin spreading. “Care to tell me how you came into possession of Miss Dixie’s lover? Last I saw, he was living with Ben.”

  “Plastic Statue Protection Program.” He says it without missing a beat, and tosses a hunk of pancake into his mouth. “He was at Ben’s for a year, but then it was time to move on. He’ll stay with me for a little bit longer, but I’ve had him most of this year already, so it’ll be time to move on soon.”

  “And you think you can move it around for the rest of your lives? That you won’t be caught?”

  “Uh huh. He’ll head over to the estate soon. Maybe to Brooke’s or Bry’s. Don’t worry, we won’t be caught.”

  I laugh and cut more pancake. “I’m here for it. Dixie is a total bitch. Plus, I think she’s accepted the replacement statue now. He’s outside her shop every day. Guarding it, and promising her a good time once the end of the day rolls around.”

  “So gross.” He slides my glass of milk closer, then takes his own and sips. “This milk is gross too, by the way. You’re lucky you’re so fucking beautiful, because I wouldn’t drink it for anyone else.”

  “It’s helping though, right? Your diet as a whole is helping?”

  He nods and goes back to eating. “Gained a little weight.”

  “All in your chest.” I reach up and grab his pecs through his sweater. “Pure muscle.”

  “Ask you a question?” His eyes come to mine as my lips snap shut in surprise. From milk, to muscles, to the hard questions. “Tell me the truth?”

  “Um… sure.” My mind races as I try to think ahead and figure out what he wants to know. “What’s up?”

  “You never answered my question about Rhino’s. Why you were dancing there.”

  “Oh.” Heat warms my cheeks so swiftly that I literally reach up and touch.

  “I mean, it’s not like you need the cash. And sure, you love to dance, but dancing on a stage in front of men is a hell of a lot different than dancing in a tutu.”