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“That’s fucked up.” Killian shakes his head in disbelief. He stands from the table, pulling out his phone. He snaps a random photo of us all around the table. “That is going down in history.”
I shake myself off and try it on the other two. Keaton was an epic fail. I don’t even know why I tried. I can’t pull anything out of him, and to be honest, I wasn’t even trying, because I don’t know how I did it to begin with, and I was too distracted by whatever it was that just happened.
Same with Kyrin. Fail. Fail. Fail. All but goddamn Kingston Axton. Why couldn’t he be my fail? Why did he have to hold my ace of spades?
“All right! We don’t have to count to know that King won,” Killian announces, tossing his cards into the middle and downing the rest of his drink.
“Surprise, surprise.” Keaton chuckles, kicking King from beneath the table.
“What will it be, your majesty? Come on. Hand it to us!” Killian teases, tossing potato chips into his mouth.
Kingston smirks, looking around the table.
I freeze when his eyes land on me, and instead of going to Killian, they stay on me.
Oh no.
Oh shit.
I shake my head. “I’m new. You can’t include me in this.”
His eyebrows raise. “Oh, but I can.” He grins, his index finger working his upper lip.
“Yo!” Justice calls out from the driver’s seat, saving me from whatever King was about to say. Thank God. “We’re here!” I look down at the time that’s on the dashboard: 7:37.
Crap, that time went fast.
I stand from the table, taking my glass to the sink as the rest of them disappear left, right, and center to do the things they probably do, which I know nothing about.
I spin around to find King still in his chair. I’m partially annoyed because I have to pretty much brush past him to get to my room. I could sit up with Justice a bit longer, but I think our chitchat has successfully died out.
I begin heading for my room while holding my breath. When I reach King, his hand finds my inner thigh, stopping my movement—and my fucking heart.
I pause, my breathing ragged. As I look down at him, he smirks up at me. His fingers flex around my thigh and I have to internally talk myself down from combusting. “I’ll be cashing in on that dare later tonight, Little Bird.”
He releases me, and I manage to successfully make my way to my bed without falling flat on my face.
My phone vibrates just as I catch my breath in my pillow; I reach for it, opening the text.
I’m going to kill Val before tonight’s over.
Give me girl drama over this any day. I remember being in high school and freaking out over the smallest bit of drama. Now, up against this, it feels miniscule. Even the fact that before I had been taken into Midnight Mayhem, I was starving, broke, and paying my way in life via dancing on a pole every night seems so diminutive, considering my now drama.
Killian interrupts my reply by pulling the curtain open. “Can I come in?”
“Sure.” I swallow, keeping my eyes locked on the ceiling and placing my phone to my side.
Killian drops down onto my bed, kicking off his shoes and climbing up farther. I turn my head to face him. He’s leaning back on one elbow, his smirk hiding behind his hoodie slightly. “Wanna know what’s weird?” His blue eyes dance in mischief. He pushes the ball of his tongue ring out, and I watch as he drags it across his bottom lip.
“What?” I ask, momentarily hypnotized by his tongue.
He pops it back into his mouth, his hand coming to my chin to tilt my face up to his. “You’re fair game right now, so I wouldn’t be looking at me like that.”
I yank myself out of his grip. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Anyway.” His charm is back in full effect. “The funny thing.”
I roll my eyes, tucking my hand under my head to hear what he has to say.
“We’ve been playing that game since we were two. That’s twenty-two years of sixers, and never in those twenty-two years has anyone ever been able to call on King.”
I blink a couple of times.
A few inhales of breath later.
“And?” I ask, wanting more. Needing more.
“And?” Killian parrots, flashing his straight teeth from behind a smile. “And that’s fucking weird.” He narrows his eyes, searching mine. “You’re an alien. From Area 51.”
I push off the bed, picking up my phone and quickly typing out the text I was supposed to send Rose before Killian walked his smug ass into my Area 51.
Can we swap?
“What is your deal, anyway, Little Bird?” Killian asks, slowly coming off the bed and leaning his elbows onto his knees. “Why are you here?”
