by Chance : Poison & Wine, book 2

by Sigal Ehrlich

  “None taken,” Ricky says for all of us.

  Danny stands and walks over to Panda. We follow him with our eyes, rapt. At this point, no one even pretends not to be interested; we’re too invested.

  “Here,” Danny gives his ID to Panda, who takes the card but doesn’t even grace him with a glance.

  Pandora observes the card with a frown till something clicks. We trade questioning looks between us. Panda continues to stare at the card in her hand, bewildered. And without warning, she pushes her chair back and jumps on Danny. Luckily, he catches her, and she doesn’t end up with her face planted in the hardwood floor.

  We all blink at them, puzzled by what’s taking place before our eyes. One moment, she doesn’t even spare him a glance, and the next, she has her legs wrapped around his waist, her tongue, by the look of it, reaching his tonsils while she moans into his mouth louder than a vacuum in action.

  “Boys and girls,” Liam says over a grin. “If ever there was one, this is an absolution.”

  Ricky snorts in humor while the rest of us laugh briefly.

  Still fused to Danny like a cleaner fish to an aquarium, Panda says something. She removes her mouth from Danny’s to breathlessly ask again, “Which room is ours?”

  Anna blinks a couple of times, baffled. Liam answers on her behalf, chuckling. “The guest room. Down the hall, second door on the right.”

  “Now, Jonathan.” The way Panda says Jonathan makes me want to unhear it. I swear it’s like I just heard her have sex with him.

  And off they go to “talk things over.”

  “Hand over that card,” I tell Kayla, smirking. “I need to see what made her”—I gesture to the hall with my hands—“act that way.”

  Laughs ricochet from around the table. Kayla flings over the ID card, and I catch it with two hands. I glance at it, and my mouth drops a little.

  “Okay, this is bonkers, but—wow!” I look at Anna and then at Kayla. “He added Jonathan as his middle name.”

  “Oh, wow.” Anna’s eyes go wide. “He’s good.”

  Ricky tips his chin at Liam. “We’re screwed, man. There’s no way we can top that kind of grand gesture.”

  Brief laughter rolls around the table from those of us who aren’t in a bedroom now, reconciling each other’s brains out.

  Liam takes Anna’s hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles, looking at her with wicked glee. “Any chance you can wipe it out of your memory?”

  Anna snorts a laugh, and I murmur to my glass, “How about don’t screw up, then you won’t need any grand gestures.”

  My sister turns from me to her boyfriend and nods in affirmation.

  “My turn,” Kayla says out of the blue. “I, for one, am thankful for being single and for a drama-free life.”

  “Amen to that, sister,” I say and clink her glass, ignoring the look Ricky throws me.

  Ricky and Liam begin to remove dishes from the table. “They all say that . . . until someone changes his flipping name for them,” Liam mutters as they head to the kitchen.

  Don’t Mind If I Do, Babe. Don’t Mind If I Do

  “I won, suckers!” Pandora lifts her game piece in victory after kicking our asses in Monopoly. Danny looks at his woman, captivated. I’m yet to decide if he’s a complete fool for changing his name for someone or a true genius.

  The board games remain scattered on the low table as we all sloth by the fire. Pandora has her legs over Danny’s thighs, both in matching gray pajamas. In another corner of the large sectional, Anna sits between Liam’s legs, leaning on him, just the way I’d love her sister to be with me. Kayla and Vicky are lying on the thick shag rug, closer to the fire. Everyone is in their pajamas; I’m even wearing something in the vein of loungewear. I had to improvise; I don’t own sleepwear, or underwear for that matter. And you can’t wear soft fabrics commando, especially near a woman who makes your blood boil.

  I can’t take my eyes off Vicky. While the living room and the people in it look like a scene from a winter holiday photo shoot, Vicky is another story. A black, silk button-down set flows over her lithe body—elegance personified. She’s grace, sophistication, and rare, exquisite beauty. While everyone looks like they’re chilling at home, Vicky looks like an ad for some ultra-high-end luxury brand. She’s golden.

  She smiles at something Danny says, prompting my lips to quirk. I have an insatiable craving for her attention, perpetually keeping her in my sight.

  The conversation carries on around me as I think about how I’d like to make her mine. But I know full well that it’s going to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever tried to achieve. My girl is complex; not to mention, she has her walls up higher than the Great Wall of China.

  “Oh, wait a minute,” Pandora says, laughing to herself. “There’s something I forgot to mention I was grateful for.”

  Vicky grins at Pandora. “What have you got for us now, Panda bear?”

  I’m not sure why, but Pandora sends me a radiant smile before tossing her phone to Vicky.

  Luckily for Pandora and her phone, Vicky catches it before it hits the floor. My interest piques. I watch Vicky as she taps on the phone at Pandora’s command to start a video. When I hear the audio, I wince. The much familiar, “Your cover of Forever was magical; what other magic will you pull out of your bag?”

  I found the whole thing amusing at the time, but I don’t find it that entertaining in Vicky’s hands. Even though it was all a sham, it doesn’t give me any solid points for the conversation I plan to have with her later tonight.

  Vicky’s smile takes a bitter curve as the rest of the video plays. When Amber’s voice comes next, saying, “His magic isn’t packed in a bag,” Vicky’s smile turns undecided, like when you force yourself to keep smiling even though it’s the last thing you want to do.

  My finger moves up to my scar, worrying it, as I watch her pass the phone on to Kayla next. Everyone around pokes fun at me, and I join them, mocking the whole thing, excusing it as Embar just messing around.

  “Oh, speaking of savage comebacks,” Anna says to the group in reference to Embar’s infamous one. “Chickens, guess who came into the studio this week. I forgot to tell you about it.” Her friends gaze at her, waiting for her to go on. “Alicia!”

  Hearing the name, Pandora snorts. “What did that twat want? I hope you sprayed her with roach killer and sent her cellulite ass packing.” Clearly not a fan.

  Anna turns to the rest of us. “So Alicia is—”

  Pandora jumps in, “A total hypocrite twat who’s a friend of a friend who, for no apparent reason, healthily dislikes Vicky yet always tries to get close to her.”

  “That,” Anna resumes humoredly. “We were at this party a couple of years ago and bumped into Alicia. Being the complete phony that she is, Alicia was all, wow, Vicky, long time. This is my boyfriend; he’s a sheik from Dubai! We came here in his private jet, just for this party.” Anna says in a ridiculous bimbo-ish lilt, impersonating the “friend of a friend.” “Wow, your skin looks great; you need to tell me what you put on it.” Anna laughs, Pandora echoes her, and Vicky’s lips stretch with a smile. “So,” Anna says over a burst of laughter, “Vicky deadpans—semen!”

  Everyone erupts in laughter. I beam at Vicky, basking in her awesomeness.

  “Needless to say, Sheik Ali found Vicky’s skincare regimen intriguing and followed her the entire night like a little puppy.”

  “Well, who doesn’t follow Vicky like a little puppy?” Kayla says matter-of-factly.

  Vicky rolls her eyes at Kayla, and Kayla snorts in return.

  Pandora fiddles with the phone in her hands, pauses, looks at me with a teasing smile, and says, “Oh wow, Ricky boy, we aren’t worthy of thy presence.”

  I blink at her, no clue what she’s talking about.

  “I’m on your Instagram account; you’ve been blue-checked!”

  “I have an Instagram account?” I ask, surprised.

  Pandora nods, smirking.

  “Man,�
�� Danny says. “A blue check is like instant two more inches.”

  I chuckle, and so do the people around me. Except for the blonde I’m mad about. She absently murmurs, “Two more inches, and he’ll require a usage warning label.”

  My lips stretch into the widest of grins; she just confirmed the fact that we’ve been together after doing everything to keep it under wraps.

  Vicky lifts her eyes to the room, realizing she said it out loud and that everyone is looking at her, all somewhat amusedly surprised. All minus me. I gaze at her with a shit-eating grin.

  She throws her hand in dismissal. “Oh, whatever, we’re among friends.” She brings the glass to her lips and says, “Fuck it,” and downs it in one gulp.

  And all I’m thinking, eating her up with my eyes, is don’t mind if I do, babe, don’t mind if I do.

  “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m wiped,” Liam says over a yawn a little after midnight. He dips his chin, looking at his girlfriend. “Let’s go to bed?”

  Standing up together, Liam and Anna draw the final curtain on the social part of the evening, setting into motion light cleaning, yawny good nights, and each couple heading to their room. Each couple and the three of us—Kayla, Vicky, and me.

  As we reach the TV room downstairs, Kayla eyes the sleeping setup and then us. She gives the three made-up beds another glance, turns to us, and snorts. She shakes her head. “Yeah, no. Not happening.” We watch her in question as she grabs a pillow and blanket from one and heads to the stairs, throwing, “Have fun, kids, night,” over her shoulder.

  I’ve never liked her more.

  Vicky chuckles softly, lifting her eyes to me. “And then there were two.”

  My lips twitch. “As it was meant to be.”

  Vicky’s lips tip higher. She breaks our eye contact, glancing at the room. It’s a TV room with a deep, plush sectional that looks much more comfortable than the three folding beds framing the space.

  Seeking her attention, I say, “Whose book did you get?”

  She glances at the book in her hand. “Liam’s.” She reads the title out loud, bringing her eyes to mine, “This Is Going to Hurt.” She licks her lips. “By Adam Kay.” She walks over to the sofa and drops into it with a sigh. She works on the chocolate’s wrapping in her hands as I join her on the couch, keeping some distance between us.

  Her eyes drop to the chocolate bar next to my thigh, the one that came with the book-chocolate bundle from her sister, Anna.

  “Whatever you do,” Vicky says in a severe tone. “Don’t eat that.” I glance at the packaging that boasts organic, ninety percent dark chocolate. “Don’t eat any of my sister’s ‘candy’.” She puts air quotes around candy. “Trust me, just don’t.”

  I chuckle, tip my chin at her stash, the one Liam added to the book. “Give me a kiss, Vic.”

  Vicky blinks at me. For some wonderfully confused seconds, she stares at me, somewhat indecisively leaning toward me.

  I inwardly high-five myself, seeing how fazed my comment made her, while I innocently asked for a Hershey. She’s so affected by me, just like I am by her, only I’m not pretending not to be. I have a smug grin when I make a whole show of eyeing the kisses bag.

  Seeming to shake herself out of whatever came over her, she straightens her posture, reaches into the bag, and hands me two.

  The soft pink hue tinting her cheeks . . . it takes immense self-control not to grab her face and pull her into a kiss.

  Popping the candy into my mouth, I check the book in my hand, the one from Anna. I skim through some pages, pausing on a few parts Anna highlighted, as we were all supposed to do with the books we brought. I clear my throat and read a passage that is so apt for whatever is going on in my head. “It’s funny the decisions you make because you like someone . . . and then your whole life is different. I think we’re at that weird age where life can change a lot from small decisions.”

  Vicky turns to face me. “Normal People. I recommended that book to Anna.”

  Now that I have her full attention, I close the book, put it on my thigh, and align our stares. “I regret sleeping with you.”

  Caught off guard, Vicky blinks at me. “Excuse me?”

  “I regret sleeping with you, Vic,” I repeat, holding her gaze that quickly turned into a bemused frown.

  She regains her composure and fires, “Well good. Then it will never happen again.” When she inches to stand, I grab her hand.

  “Not what I’m saying.” I ease her down, and she sits, glaring at me. “I want more, much more.” Her stern expression slightly mellows. “I regret it because each time we do, you flip and run away from me. Literally and figuratively. I knew there was something between us the first night we spent together. Something platonic. Hell, the moment we were introduced, I knew it.” I never break our stare. “I know it’s intense; I’m with you. I don’t know what to make of it either, especially now with everything else happening in my life, but I want it. Whatever it is, Vic, I want it.”

  She listens; not a word leaves her mouth. She seems unsettled yet fully absorbed in what I’m saying.

  I worry my scar with my finger. A deep frown settles between my brows when I ask, “You mentioned seeing other people the other night. Are you?”

  I tense, waiting for her to answer. She considers my question, appearing undecided like she’s having the mother of all internal battles. I feel the bitter taste of disappointment gripping me. It takes her too long to say no.

  “Not at the moment, I’m not. Not lately.” Her eyes drop to my fisted palms and lift back to mine.

  A damn boulder has been lifted off my chest. Well, not the ultimate answer, but I’ll take what I can get. I can’t overlook that she didn’t respond to what I said before. That I need more. Yet there’s only so much I can demand when I can’t really date her and am supposed to be seen with other women when I’m in public. This is so fucked up. I’m grateful for everything that’s happening to me. My dream is becoming my reality, but at the same time, my dream girl is just out of arm’s reach—the damn timing of it all.

  I nod, holding her gaze again. “The next time we sleep together is going to be in a bed with your eyes on me, and you are with me.”

  Vicky keeps silent, worrying at her lips, and I can’t say I like it. I also know her quite well by now, knowing that she doesn’t let anyone dictate the terms or tell her what to do. I can’t begin to predict her reaction. A couple of beats pass till she seems to collect herself, yet I swear there are so many emotions running behind her beautiful blue eyes.

  The quieter she is, the more concerned I get. Still too silent for my liking, contemplating, she stands up and just walks away.

  My brows pinch as I watch her, somewhat perplexed and very ticked off. I follow her with my gaze till she leaves the room. So that’s it? That’s her response? She just up and left without a word. This woman is going to be the end of me.

  I’m so tense, trying to gauge what is going through her mind and how she’ll handle what I just told her. And mostly, how I don’t want her to close up again or simply tell me to fuck off.

  I drop back to the sofa with a frustrated sigh. Lying on my back, I rub my hands over my face. I can’t believe she just walked away. I grab the book by my side and try reading as I wait for her to return, but it’s a futile attempt. I’m too exasperated to concentrate on anything. My eyes skim the words, but nothing registers.

  Not sure how long later, I pivot my face to the sound of the door opening. Vicky has an expression on her face that I’ve never seen before, one that makes my heart go a little wild.

  She walks over, seeming her perpetual confident self. While she has her shoulders squared, walking tall and assured, her eyes tell me a different story. There’s hesitancy in those sapphires, one that’s a blow to my stomach. I watch her as she nears me, noticing the tender shiver of her lips when she returns my gaze. I hold her stare as she ever so slowly plants one knee at one side of me. She swallows, gauges my reaction, and bring
s the other to straddle me.

  “Vic,” I say with a warning in my tone.

  There’s so much vulnerability in her eyes as she leans down to kiss me, releasing a soft sound of surrender. And I know with every fiber of my being that whatever she is starting right now is on the brink of pushing us into something new. My damn heart quickens at the thought that what I told her sank in, and she’s taking the plunge.

  Vicky leans down, holds my face, gently inclining it toward her; she tilts her head slightly to align her lips to reach mine. First, with a soft brush, then a shift up to press more intently, pulling my face deeper to her, drawing me into a kiss. She tastes so perfect of wine, chocolate, and Vicky. A warm wave begins in my chest, trailing along every corner of my body, heating my body and quickening my pulse.

  Easing back, I brush my lips along the side of her face from the little nook below her ear to her jawline. I follow down her throat and back to her lips. Her hands slide under my shirt, gently scratching my skin with her nails. My hands glide over the silk fabric covering her skin to cup her breasts while she starts to rock against me slowly. I release a groan from the back of my throat, feeling my blood rushing in one direction.

  I search her blazing sapphires, her face above me, flushed with desire and anticipation. I push up to lean on my forearms, reaching for her lips hungrily. Our mouths hover near as our bodies move in synch, and while she grinds on me, I sense her slipping away. She’s on me, still rocking against me, but it’s of a different quality since she cut the eye contact.

  I stay still, whispering, “Babe?” And then, a tone rougher, “Vic.”

  She flutters her eyes open, looking at me.

  “Vic, eyes on me.” I hold her stare, reaching my hands to her waist, helping her rock on me. Realizing where this thing is heading, I slowly draw back.

  Vicky looks at me in question, appearing a little flustered. I can resonate; it takes inhuman strength to stop this thing. I shake my head with a smile, communicating that it’s not happening.

  “Are you kidding me?” she scoffs. The first words she’s spoken since I told her how serious I am about us.