by Emma Salah
“Zac,” she moaned.
“Are you wet for me, Ree?” He plumped up her breast, before squeezing her nipple again. “Hmm? Tell me just how wet you are for me, right now.”
“I’m wet. So wet for you.”
His mouth was reaching for her again when the Mission Impossible theme song blasted. Zac’s phone, Reagan realized. He released her suddenly and stepped back and kept moving back until there was distance between the two of them. Reagan swayed and almost fell. Somehow, she managed to stay on her feet. They were both breathing hard, staring at each other. Reagan’s panties were soaked through and the bulge of Zac’s erection was obvious beneath his jeans. An erection she remembered moving deep and hard inside of her.
His phone kept ringing and he finally pulled it out. He took one look at it and his eyes darkened. She opened her mouth to ask, but shut it when she saw how tense he carried himself. Oh! Only a few people had the power to piss off Zac that much. It must be his parents. Oh god, that’s not good. Her heart ached with how bad she wanted to comfort him.
Zac took a deep breath as he looked away from her. He ran a hand through his hair.
“I made a promise to you, Ree,” he said, quietly. “And I’m going to keep it. One more week. But I want you to remember that you made a promise to me too. When all of this is over, we’re still going to be friends. I’m holding you to that.”
He didn’t wait for her to reply but walked out.
Reagan sat down on the edge of the bed.
Okay, that did not go the way she had been planning. Reagan ignored the painful arousal still coursing through her body to focus on the important issue at hand. She thought after last night, Zac had taken a step closer to seeing her side, but instead of moving forward he took a giant step back. And it didn’t help that the unexpected phone call was probably from one of his parents. Is this why he is having nightmares? He thought she didn’t know, but she did. She could see the lines beneath his eyes. She had so many questions, but if she pushed him too hard too fast, he’d shut down even more than he was already.
“Patience, Reagan,” she murmured to herself.
You knew it wasn’t going to be easy. You planned for this, remember? She still had tonight and one more week to show Zac. And she had a few more tricks up her sleeve. Zac had been right about one thing. They were doing too much fighting; there was fighting and then there was fighting. They needed to get back to doing more of the last one.
Her phone vibrated in her back pocket. She pulled it out and saw that it was a message from Aidan. Right on time. Excitement had her rubbing her hands together like a cartoon villain. She stood up quickly and hightailed it out of the room.
Things were about to get interesting. Let the games begin.
Chapter Sixteen
Reagan sat on the sofa, watching Aidan, who stood in the center of the game room. Aidan was wearing a bandanna across his forehead to signal that he was the referee for the night. He was staring down at his clipboard—yep, they were that serious. The room had been divided into two teams, with six players on Reagan’s Blue team and six players on Malcolm’s Red team. And right now, they were waiting for Aidan to tally up the scores on their recent game.
Her middle brother, the host of the games, was sitting silently beside her. Callum was not as tall as Malcolm or Dean and not as bulky in size as Aidan. He wore his black hair long, just a bit under his chin and his dark chocolate eyes—nearly black—were at half-mast, like he was high 99% of the time. Many people had been fooled into thinking that nothing much was happening inside of Callum’s mind, but they were very wrong about that. Silent people have the loudest minds, after all. It just took a lot longer to figure that out with Callum. It was one of the reasons why he was such a good pitcher. No one had any idea what he was planning to do or where he was going to throw the ball because they usually thought he wasn’t that bright.
“And at the end of that round, Blue team, you have a total of six points. But, unfortunately, Red team is still in the lead with eight points.”
Red team jumped up out of their seats, their voices rising into a triumphant shout as they hugged and high-fived. The Blue team sank lower into the sofa, shoulders down, moaning in defeat. Well, some, not all.
“Fucking A,” Dean grumbled on her other side.
Letty, who didn’t particularly care about the game, just took a sip of her cocktail. And Callum said nothing.
Fucking A. Reagan was right there with Dean. She slouched in her seat, groaning. She hated losing. It didn’t help that they had dumb and dumber on their team as well, or as their parents christened them, May and April. Sisters who didn’t have any talent. She wasn’t exaggerating. If they spent even half as much time as they did on reapplying their makeup, maybe they’d be winning. Reagan had met some incredibly intelligent models over the years, but April and May were not some of them.
It didn’t help that the Red team had Zac, Malcolm, DD, two kickass Olympians Lennox and Rachel, and Mandy, an amazing singer.
Reagan knew the plan for tonight was to ignore Zac. She knew that, but her eyes kept straying to the other side of the living room to him.
Zac barely glanced at her at all. He sat in between DD and Mandy, chatting amongst them with a causal smile on his face, acting like he wasn’t even aware of her presence. That smile was anything but real. It was brittle at the edges and his shoulders were so far up, they might as well be sharing a zip code with his ears. Her epic plan was turning into an epic disaster.
Aidan tapped his clipboard, drawing all their attention back to him.
“The next round is charades. You have two minutes until it begins so get ready,” he announced.
Yes! That was a game she was good at. They were going to win this one. Reagan could feel it in her bones.
“Everyone huddle around.” She beckoned her team with two fingers.
They all did as she asked, with May and April sitting on the floor beside her.
“I can’t believe you play these games three times a year.” Letty shook her head, her brown ringlets raining down.
“Believe it, sugar.” Dean grinned. “Wait until you play the Spicy game at the end of the year. Now, that’s what you call epic fun. Whip cream, leather—”
“Are these games or are you just saying your BDSM fantasies out loud?”
Reagan sniggered at Letty’s comment. “It’s weird you haven’t been to any, Letty, it feels like you’ve been around forever.”
Although they had met three years ago, Letty’s own drama with her family had kept her too busy to come to one of their game nights.
“Yeah, who would ever turn down charades?” Letty said, sarcastically.
Reagan held up her finger. “Girl, don’t mock our games. Charades are awesome and we need to decide which signals we should use for—”
“Wait—which one is charades again?” May asked, flicking her blond hair behind her shoulder.
April raised her hand. “Can you explain the rules to me too?”
Reagan’s mouth dropped open. She had no idea what to say to that. She looked at them closely, maybe they were joking? Except they didn’t seem like they were.
Letty let out a laugh, crossing one leg over the other. “Are you guys for real? I didn’t know people like you existed outside of TMZ and reality shows.”
“Did she just insult us?” April whispered to May in indignation.
“If you have to ask—” Letty rolled her eyes “—then we’re really going to have a real problem.”
“Now, now, girls,” Dean said with a shake of his head. “I’m happy to explain the rules to you both.”
He explained the rules to them and then finally Dean passed the puck back to Reagan.
“Okay, so if it is a sentence we have to act out I was thinking we could—” she began.
“Time,” Aidan said.
> No, no, how could it be time already? They hadn’t done anything!
“Dean, you’re up first for the Blue team. Lennox, you’re up for the Red team.”
Dean stood up. “Don’t worry, sis. I’ve totally got this.”
He held out his hand. She high-fived him.
“We’re going to lose, aren’t we?” Letty murmured as they watched Dean and Lennox talk to Aidan and receive the words they would have to act out.
“Oh, we’re definitely fucked,” Reagan said back.
Dean turned to them; Lennox faced the Red team.
“You have ten seconds,” Aidan told them. “Three. Two. One. Go.”
Dean exploded into action, immediately flapping his arms around. The room grew in sound as each team tried to guess what their teammate was acting out.
“I don’t know what you’re doing!” Reagan cried. “Is that the chicken dance?”
“No!” Dean said, before doing exactly what he was doing a moment ago.
“You’re having a seizure?” Letty guessed.
“Ooh, I know.” April threw her hands up. “You’re doing the Running Man!”
Reagan gave her the stink eye. “Have you ever seen the Running Man? You don’t flap your arms like that.”
April waved her hands, still above her head. “I don’t know. He could just be extremely bad at it?”
“No! No! And no!” Dean said again. “Come on, guys. You’re not even trying. Watch what I’m doing and tell me what you see is happening.”
Callum shifted in his seat beside her.
“A baby bird trying to fly for the first time,” he said, softly.
Dean pointed at him and then pumped his fist.
“Yes!”
Red team cheered suddenly.
“And Red team gets the point,” Aidan declared.
“What?” Dean turned towards Aidan in outrage.
“Callum said the answer first!” Reagan jumped up.
Aidan shrugged, uncaring that Dean towered over him by a few inches and was not happy.
“If the referee doesn’t hear it, then it didn’t happen.”
Letty tugged on Reagan’s shirt and Reagan fell back onto the sofa. Aidan was damn lucky that Letty saved him, because she’d been one second away from punching him in the face. She took her games seriously.
“The game isn’t over yet,” Letty reminded her gently.
“Next up, we have Malcolm for the Red team and Letty for the Blue team,” Aidan said, looking at his clipboard.
“See. It’s my turn. Watch me show them how it’s done.” Letty stood up and walked across the room to Aidan.
She was wearing skinny white jeans and a loose red blouse that looked amazing against her caramel skin complexion.
Letty smiled at Aidan. “Are you going to whisper the sentence in my ear?”
Aidan leaned down and put his mouth close to her ear. Letty’s eyes closed. She nodded at whatever Aidan said.
“Want me to repeat that back to you?”
She didn’t wait for Aidan’s reply, but touched his shoulder and tiptoed to reach his ear. Her lips moved.
“What’s going on between those two?” Dean looked at Reagan.
Reagan shook her head helplessly. “Have no clue.”
Letty was definitely fucking with her. Right?
“Okay. I’m ready,” Letty said.
Aidan repeated the words to Malcolm, who nodded. Both players turned to face their team.
“Three. Two. One. Go.”
“Come on, Letty!” Reagan encouraged. “You can do this!”
Letty spread her legs apart and put her hands on her hips. Reagan frowned. Okay, what the fuck was she doing?
“You’re a superhero!” May guessed.
Letty shook her head. She clapped twice, before putting her hands back on her hips. Then she raised her hands and wiggled her fingers.
“Do you have any idea what she’s doing?” Reagan whispered to Callum.
Silence was his answer. Oh shit, they were most definitely going to lose.
“Spirit fingers!” Dean suddenly cried out.
Aidan blew his whistle. “And Blue team gets the point.”
“Yes!” Blue team said in unison.
“I am a genius!” Dean grinned. “I knew watching cheerleaders closely would pay off.”
Reagan laughed. “I think you’re confusing genius with pervert.”
Dean and Letty high-fived as she came back to the sofa.
The game of charades continued with May, then Callum, followed by Reagan going up. It wasn’t a surprise when May had no idea how to act out villain and that Callum and Reagan were really good at charades. Aidan called an end to the games and was now taking a moment to figure out the scores.
Dean threw his arm around Letty’s shoulders. Letty glanced at it and then at him.
“Can I help you?” she asked coolly.
“So, Letty—” Dean began.
“Whatever wildly inappropriate thing is about to come out of your mouth, let me stop you right there, Dean Thomas. I’m not interested.”
He leaned in closer to her, smiling that gorgeous smile of his. “But, baby, trust me, my Cocoa Puffs need your Cheerios. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“What? Herpes?”
Everyone burst out laughing.
“Hey!” Dean exclaimed. “I do not have herpes! I take care of my junk, thank you very much. Wrapping it is always the way to go.”
Aidan blew his whistle again. “As interesting as it is to hear about Dean’s latest bout of herpes, we are reaching the end of the games. Before I announce the final scores and declare the winners, does anyone want to challenge any contestants?”
The Red team and Blue Team stared at each other, each side equally daring the other to try something. Except Zac barely glanced over. He was too busy looking at his hands and whatever mystery they held. She couldn’t take it anymore. She needed him to look at her and realize that she would not be ignored. Get ready, Zac, you don’t know what’s about to hit ya.
Reagan rose slowly to her feet.
“What are you doing?” Dean hissed.
She ignored him. Heart in her throat, she stepped forward.
“I, Reagan Thomas, challenge you, Zachariah Quinn, to a face-off.”
Silence reigned for a moment. Everyone stared at Zac, gauging his reaction.
Zac’s eyes narrowed. He rose to his feet, towering over her in almost an intimidating way. But Reagan refused to be intimidated.
Zac raised an eyebrow. “You sure you want to do that, Ree? You do remember what happened last time, don’t you?”
She smirked at him, secretly thrilled. “Keep acting cocky, it’s only going to be so much more rewarding when I take you down.”
“Don’t forget you asked for this.”
“Whatever.”
“The challenge?”
“Wii. Boxing.”
“Knock-out?”
“Of course.”
“Stakes?”
“Ten extra points?”
“Make it twenty.”
She shook her head. “Fifteen.”
“Eighteen points.”
“Seventeen.”
She thought about that.
“Okay. Seventeen.” She held out her hand. “May the best woman win.”
He laughed and her stomach clenched, a blush rising up her chest and to her neck. He shook her hand, his thumb caressing her skin slightly before letting go.
“Oh, we both know who’s going to win.”
She didn’t say anything to that, but just kept that smirk on her face.
“Don’t get cocky,” Reagan whispered low enough that no one else could hear them. “I have a side bet for you. If I win, you
have to date me for real. No more of Mr. Boring Zac. I want the real you.”
He lost his smile. “Fine. But if I win, we’ll call off this whole deal once and for all.”
Okay, she hadn’t expected that. She licked her lips. Oh shit, what if I lose and I lose him? She didn’t want this to end, not yet, not ever and it seemed like Zac was determined to push her away. Then don’t lose, she told herself, for you and for him. Show him that you’re willing to fight against him and his sneaky tactics. No, not sneaky, dirty tactics.
“Fine,” she said.
I’m not going to back down now.
Aidan tapped his clipboard again to draw their attention back to him.
“I’ll set up the game.”
Reagan turned back to her team, who all stared at her.
“What just happened? What the fuck is a face-off? Can someone please explain to me what is going on?” Letty asked, sloshing her drink around.
“A face-off is when two opposing players are allowed to go head-to-head in any game to try and win back some much-needed points,” Reagan explained.
“Like a Hail Mary,” Dean added.
“Exactly. When I win, we’ll get an extra seventeen points added to our total score.”
“Nice.” Letty smiled.
“That’s if we win though,” Dean pointed out.
“We’ll win,” Reagan said, confidently. Or she tried for confident.
You’re not going to lose. You got this. She pushed everything out of her mind, except for the game. Her earlier intention might’ve been to knock that sad look off Zac’s face, but now it was to knock Zac out. What? I love him, but I’m still competitive.
“Players,” Aidan called out, “get ready. We’re about to begin.”
Reagan high-fived her team members as she moved to in front of the TV. Zac stood to her side, throwing her a grin. Aidan gave them each a controller. Reagan’s hand tensed around it.
“Let’s make this interesting. I bet twenty Zac beats Reagan,” Malcolm said, holding up a twenty-dollar bill.