by Tawna Fenske
Clay set the plates beside the sink and turned back to the table to gather another batch while Larissa got to work running the sink full of soapy water.
“I think we’re out for the games,” June said as she stood up and piled her plate on top of Jed’s, smiling as she grazed her husband’s hand. “There’s a meteor shower tonight, so we’re taking a blanket out to the north pasture to see if we can spot any shooting stars.”
“Should be a great night for it,” Jed said.
June grabbed another plate and nodded. “I call dibs on picking the spot this time.”
“Deal,” Jed said. “I call dibs on making the cocoa.”
Clay watched the private smile that flashed between Reese’s parents, marveling at the intimacy simmering in that small exchange. He slid his gaze to Reese, wondering if she noticed it, too, but Reese had already glanced away.
“Let us help with the dishes before we go,” June said, brushing her daughter’s shoulder as she moved past her into the kitchen. “That way you kids can get started on your game.”
“Don’t worry about it, Mom. I’ve got it.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.” Reese swallowed her last bite of scampi and reached for her water glass. “Don’t you want dessert before you go?”
June slid her arm around Jed’s waist as the two turned toward the door. “I have all the sweet stuff I need right here.”
Jed beamed and pulled his wife closer, and Clay wondered if they’d be able to fit through the doorway linked like Siamese twins. Something like longing flickered in Reese’s eyes, but it was gone so quickly, Clay decided he’d imagined it.
“Goodnight, sweetie,” Jed called. “Thanks for dinner.”
As the door shut behind them, Larissa pulled her hands out of a sinkful of soapy water and rinsed them beneath the tap. “Okay, then,” she said. “Screw the board games. Let’s play something fun like ‘I Never.’”
“What’s ‘I Never’?” Clay asked.
“A drinking game,” Eric muttered.
“A sexy drinking game,” Larissa amended.
Clay shrugged. “Can’t say I remember it. Of course, I was probably too blitzed to play.”
“Don’t worry,” Larissa assured him. “It’s more about sharing secrets than getting drunk. You can have water.”
Reese stood up and started gathering her dishes with a clatter. “We don’t have any secrets. We’ve all known each other forever. Let’s play something else.”
“Come on, you guys!” Larissa pleaded. “We haven’t done anything fun together since Clay came back. It’ll be like old times.”
Eric grunted and glanced at Clay. “Aren’t we all supposed to be doing supportive shit so we avoid things being like ‘old times’? Doesn’t seem like a drinking game would be the best idea.”
Clay felt a sharp pang in the center of his gut. He knew Eric was aiming for helpful, not accusatory, but the words still stung. “Actually, admitting past failures is part of the recovery process,” Clay said. “I haven’t played ‘I Never,’ but it sounds like the same idea.”
“Sure!” Larissa said. “I mean, you kinda want to avoid words like ‘failure’ if you want it to be fun, but it’s all about revealing salacious things you’ve done.”
Clay shrugged. “I’m game.”
Reese bit her lip but didn’t meet Clay’s eyes. “It just seems like a bad idea. Isn’t this—what’s the word I’m looking for?”
“Dumb?” Eric offered.
“No, that’s not what I meant.” Reese waved a hand in Clay’s direction, flinging soap on Larissa’s shirt. “A trigger. Something that wouldn’t be good for Clay.”
Larissa rolled her eyes. “You guys, he’s been sober four years. Don’t you think he’s capable of deciding for himself what’s good for him?”
All three pairs of eyes shifted to him, and Clay stood frozen in the space between the kitchen and the living room, the space between the fun guy they remembered and the responsible guy he knew he could be. He hesitated, not knowing what the right move was here, but knowing he wanted to prove to all of them that he could do this. He could be fun and spontaneous and still be a responsible adult who didn’t end up ruining everyone’s evening either by passing out or passing up a chance to do something enjoyable.
He folded his arms over his chest and met their gazes one by one. Larissa, Eric, Reese. “Let’s play.”
Eric shrugged. “Fine by me. I’ve got nothing better to do.”
Larissa looked at Reese, who had started ladling huckleberry cobbler into bowls. “Reese?”
She sighed. “This all seems a little awkward. Come on, Eric and I used to be married. Don’t you think that’s weird?”
“No weirder than you being BFFs with his second wife,” Larissa pointed out.
Eric refilled his wineglass and stood up with a shrug. “Isn’t awkwardness the whole point of the game? I’m not endorsing it, just saying.”
Reese sighed, looking defeated. Larissa gave her a one-armed hug, then grabbed a bowl of cobbler and a glass of wine before flouncing into the living room. Eric shrugged, then picked up a bowl of cobbler and followed. Clay watched him sink into the center of a leather sofa the color of an old saddle, while Larissa curled up in a bright-orange armchair lined with flowery turquoise pillows. Clay stared at them for a moment, his throat welling with a flood of nostalgia for his lost college years. If only he hadn’t fucked everything up—
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Reese murmured.
Clay turned to look at her and felt the wistful pang grip him tighter. He cleared his throat. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“I’m not talking about the alcohol.” She shot a nervous glance toward the living room, then lowered her voice. “I’m just thinking about that time in college when—”
“Come on, you guys,” Larissa yelled. “Hurry up!”
Clay looked at Reese, still wondering what the right move was. She stared at him, her expression unreadable. He turned back to the living room. “Why don’t you guys play and I’ll finish up the dishes?”
“No way,” Eric said. “I’m not going to be the only guy playing. Get your ass in here. You, too, Reese. Come on, we’ll get the dishes later.”
Clay looked at Reese. He took a step closer, making his voice low. “I promise I’m okay with this,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about it being a trigger.”
He watched her throat move as she swallowed, and she took a shaky breath. “Okay. That’s fine, I mean. I just—how do you want to handle—”
She broke off there, not finishing the question, but Clay watched her gaze flit to her wineglass on the counter. Right, the alcohol. This was a drinking game, after all.
“It’s not a big deal,” he said. “I’ll drink water. ’Riss seems drunk enough not to notice who’s drinking what anyway.”
She seemed to think about that for a moment, her gaze drifting out to the living room. Part of him ached to reach out and touch her the way he had in the kitchen or at Vineyard Grill. He glanced at Eric, who frowned at him.
Right. Touching Reese would be bad.
At last, Reese nodded. “Let’s play.”
She marched past him into the living room and Clay stared after her, admiring the sway of her hips. She chose a spot on a comfortable-looking love seat that matched the couch, and Clay watched her tuck her delicate bare feet up under her as her caramel-colored braid slipped over her shoulder. He saw Eric watching him and quickly feigned interest in a potted fern on the edge of the counter.
“You coming, Clay?” Larissa yelled.
Not anytime soon, dammit.
Kicking his inner pig in the head, he cleared his throat and headed for the living room. “Yeah, sure.”
He picked a seat as far away from Reese as he could get, settling on the end of the so
fa near Eric while he ordered himself to grow the fuck up and stop ogling Reese. He could do this. He could renew friendships and revisit old memories and go home with no regrets. This is the way normal people functioned, right?
Across from him, Larissa began to explain the rules, though Clay suspected he was the only one who required a refresher. “Okay, so someone starts and they have to make a statement that starts I never. It has to be true, and it’s always best if it’s a little bit dirty. Like I could say, I never had sex on an airplane, and anyone in the room who’s done that would have to drink.”
Clay shifted his water glass in one hand. “So how do we know who wins?”
“There’s no winner or loser,” Larissa explained with exaggerated patience. “It’s just about learning people’s deepest, darkest secrets. The more you drink, the less inhibited you become, the more you cough up the dirt.”
Eric nodded at Clay’s glass. “Probably good the guy with the most dirt is drinking water.”
“Come on,” Larissa said. “Let’s just play.”
Reese sighed and settled back onto her love seat with a glass of wine beside her on an end table. Clay watched, wondering what she was thinking. This was awkward for all of them, but probably more for Reese, who tended to be a private person. Maybe he still had time to put a stop to it. Maybe—
“Why don’t you start, ’Riss?” Reese suggested. “Show us how it’s done.”
“Okay, fine—I never had sex with two people at once,” Larissa declared.
“Oh, come on,” Reese said. “That hardly seems—” She stopped and stared at Clay as he took a slow sip of water.
Everyone’s attention swung to him, and Clay froze mid-sip, pretty sure he’d just started things off on the wrong foot. He set his glass down and frowned at Eric. “What?”
“Stud!” Eric slapped him on the shoulder.
Larissa laughed. “There’s a story I’d love to hear.”
Clay grimaced, feeling like an idiot just thirty seconds into the game. Everyone was staring at him, which was the last thing he wanted. He felt awkward in his own skin, and remembered how easy it used to be to grab a beer at a party to make that feeling go away.
“I thought that’s how the game worked,” he said, wondering if it was okay to take another sip of water. His mouth felt dry all of a sudden. “That’s how we’re supposed to play, right?”
“Right,” Larissa said. “And no one is allowed to judge, so quit looking at him like that, Reese.”
“I wasn’t,” she said. “Just surprised, that’s all.”
Clay scuffed his toe across the rug. “Alcohol may have been a factor.”
Reese bit her lip. “It often is.”
“You’re up, Reese,” Eric said. “We go in a circle, right?”
“Right,” Larissa agreed. “Come on, Reese—lay it on us.”
“Oh, fine.” She grabbed her own wineglass, not meeting Clay’s eyes. “I never had sex in the winery barn.”
Eric and Larissa both lifted their glasses and drank. Reese snorted. “Larissa doesn’t surprise me, but Eric? I wouldn’t think Sheila would agree to that.”
“Wasn’t Sheila,” he said. “This was after you, before Sheila. Remember that intern six years ago? The one with the big—”
“Okay, moving on,” Reese said. “Eric, you go.”
He shrugged. “I never had anyone spank me in the bedroom.”
Larissa and Reese both lifted their glasses. Larissa giggled. Clay felt lightheaded.
“Reese—kinky!” Larissa said.
“You said no judging,” Reese said, and Clay watched her cheeks flush crimson. “But if you must know, it was that horse trainer I dated three years ago. He thought a whip would be a nice thing to bring on a third date.”
Eric laughed. “You sure can pick ’em.”
“Hey, I’m proud of you, cuz,” Larissa said, giving Reese a reassuring squeeze. “I didn’t know you had it in you to be so experimental.”
“I didn’t say I liked it,” Reese said, her cheeks still beautifully pink. She looked at the ceiling and gave a funny little smile. “Then again, I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”
Larissa laughed and turned back to Clay. “Okay, gorgeous, your turn.”
Clay gripped his water glass, not sure what to say. Hell, there was plenty he could say. Plenty he remembered, plenty he didn’t, plenty he wished he could forget. He opened his mouth to say something. Then closed it. Then opened it again.
The sound of the doorbell dragged everyone’s eyes off him and onto the door.
Reese frowned. “What the—”
“Uh-oh,” said Larissa. “I know who it is.”
Before anyone could ask, a voice outside started shouting. “Goddammit, Larissa—I know you’re there. Open the door!”
CHAPTER EIGHT
From her perch on the love seat, Reese frowned at the front door, then at her cousin. She had a sick feeling in her gut, which made this the second time today she’d been pretty sure she was about to toss her cookies.
“Larissa? Who’s that? And how did he know where you’d be?”
“It’s Joey—the dude I was supposed to go out with tonight?”
“Right,” Reese said. “You said he stood you up?”
“Kinda. Or maybe it was the other way around, I can’t remember now.”
“You mean you stood him up?” Reese said, feeling the same sense of dread she always did when she ended up in the middle of one of Larissa’s romance dramas. “And then you told him where you’d be this evening?”
“Hey, a girl’s gotta play hard to get, but you gotta let ’em know where to find you.”
The doorbell rang again, and a man’s voice shouted from the other side. “Come on, Larissa. We need to talk about this. I know you’re there.”
“I don’t feel like talking,” Larissa shouted back. “I’m tired of talking. Talk, talk, talk—what about action?”
“I’ll give you action, I will. Come on, just let me explain.”
Eric lifted an eyebrow. “What did she do now?”
Reese sighed and glanced from the door to her cousin. “’Riss, you want me to call the cops, or you want to let the guy in?”
Larissa rolled her eyes. “I’ll let him in. But only so I can tell him to his face that the way to woo a woman is not by falling asleep when she’s giving you a hand job.”
Reese closed her eyes and tried to remember why she’d agreed to host this dinner party in the first place. She opened her eyes again to see Eric sitting up straighter on the couch and grinning at Clay.
“And you wanted to go home early,” Eric said, nudging Clay in the ribs with his elbow. “See? Things are just starting to get interesting.”
“Cheaper than hotel pay-per-view,” Clay agreed.
Larissa flung the door open to reveal a man whose size suggested a fondness for lifting small automobiles. He looked more sad than dangerous, but Reese watched Clay and Eric bristle anyway.
“Come on, Larissa, I said I was sorry,” the guy pleaded. “Just let me explain.”
“You don’t need to explain. I got the message loud and clear last night. Obviously I wasn’t interesting enough for you to bother staying awake.”
“But it wasn’t my fault, baby. I was just so tired. I loved what you were doing with your hands, and then when you did that twisty thing with your thumb and—”
“Hi, I’m Reese,” she said, bolting off the sofa and hustling to the door before things got more awkward. She extended her hand to the guy, not sure if she should be defending her cousin or locking her in a bedroom. “And you are?”
“Joey,” he said, and stepped inside to shake her hand. “I just want to talk to Larissa.”
“We’re busy right now,” Larissa huffed, turning to march back to the living room. She plunked down on the love seat
this time, then turned back to face them with her arms folded over her chest. “We’re playing ‘I Never.’ Here’s one: I never had a guy fall asleep during a hand job until last night.”
Reese winced, wondering if there were normal families somewhere that didn’t feel the need to overshare. She looked at Clay and Eric, who were staring at Joey with expressions of male sympathy.
“Dude,” Eric said.
“Ouch,” Clay agreed.
Larissa’s date gave an exasperated sigh and followed her into the living room. “Well, I never been so tired as I was last night. Come on, I worked late and—”
“Are we supposed to drink to that?” Eric asked Clay. “Because I’ve been pretty tired, and there was this one time a few years ago with Sheila where I just didn’t feel like it.”
“I think we’re still playing,” Clay said. “You should probably drink.”
Reese shook her head, pretty sure the time had come for the game to be over. “Can we just call it a night?”
“We’re still playing,” Larissa insisted as Joey sat down beside her on the love seat. Reese couldn’t help noticing her cousin didn’t move away.
“Clay hasn’t even gone yet,” Larissa pointed out. “Everyone sit down and let’s keep going. I haven’t decided what to do with you yet,” she said, directing her ire back at Joey. “But we’re not done here. Clay, go. It’s your turn.”
Clay lifted his water glass, considering. “I never had sex on an airplane.”
Larissa rolled her eyes. “No fair, I already did that one.”
“You just did it as an example, not as a real I never,” Clay pointed out.
“No dice, go again.”
Clay sighed. “I’ve never been in love with anyone I’ve dated.”
Reese bit the inside of her lip. Larissa’s eyes widened. Everyone was quiet for a second.
Joey was the first to speak. “Wow, man. That’s kinda depressing.”
“Yeah,” Eric agreed. “Not exactly sexy.”
Clay rolled his eyes. “You didn’t say it had to be sexy. Just that it had to be the truth. I’m making amends for past wrongs here, remember?”