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The guys flip each other off.
Slowly, everyone fills in the bench seats.
Grabs a drink.
The guys, save Ryan, are all on the other bench.
I'm sandwiched between Emma and Leighton.
I'm staring at Brendon, trying to figure out what the intensity in his eyes means.
I don't know.
I smooth my dress. Tap my toes together. Gather my hair on my right shoulder.
This is a game you win by losing.
Which means I don't have a chance.
I haven't done anything. Not unless you count getting straight As and writing dirty fan fiction.
I...
I'm going to lose.
And everyone is going to know.
Everyone is going to know I'm the sweet girl who doesn't get the guy.
Chapter Seventeen
Kaylee
Ryan holds up his drink. "Never have I ever fucked a client."
Dean shakes his head. "Lies and slander." He takes a swig.
Leighton taps her drink. "Define client."
Brendon laughs. "That's a yes."
My eyes fix on him. His drink is resting on his thigh. It's nowhere near his lips.
He's never fucked a client.
All he does is work and go to the gym. That means it’s been awhile. It must.
That's something.
Maybe this game isn't totally horrible.
Maybe it's somehow useful.
"I could fire you for that," Ryan says.
"You can't fire me. I'm about to be a co-owner." Dean's voice is bouncy. Joyful. He's reveling in rubbing that in. "Besides it wasn't a client here." He stands up to take his turn and offers Ryan that same sly smirk. "Never have I ever gotten a hard-on while doing a tattoo."
Ryan mutters under his breath. He takes a swig, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
