Right now, Ellie traces the intricate pattern of a floral blanket with her fingertip, her movements listless, her expression blank. She hasn’t moved from her position on the sofa since Aria dropped her newest bombshell onto the four of us. Beckett and Dominic went upstairs to change into the suits Aria provided, but Ellie… Ellie hasn’t moved.
The sight of it sends a sharp, possessive pang through my chest. That ismyEllie to break, if anyone’s. My light to guard. Aria’s suffocating influence is a disease, and I’m the only cure.
How long do we have until we need to leave for the stupid-ass party? An hour? Plenty of time.
I saunter over, flopping down onto the sofa beside her, making the cushions sigh dramatically. She doesn’t even flinch.
“Bored,princesa?” I ask, my voice laced with the theatrical cheerfulness I use as both a weapon and a shield.
She sighs, a small, weary sound. “Just tired, Zane.”
“Tired is boring,” I declare, jumping to my feet and pacing. “We don’t do boring in this relationship. It’s against the rules. I should know, I wrote them.” I stop in front of her, hands on my hips, striking a pose. “We are going to play a game.”
Her gaze finally lifts to mine, dull and unimpressed. “A game.”
“Yes, a game. It’s called Zane Says. It’s like Simon Says, but infinitely more entertaining, and the stakes are significantly higher.” I waggle my eyebrows. “And the prize is a genuine, unforced smile from the notoriously morose Miss Ellie.”
A flicker of something—annoyance, maybe—crosses her face. “Zane, I’m really not in the mood. Besides, I have to start getting ready and?—”
“Perfect! Mood is irrelevant. It’s a construct, and I am deconstructing it.” I grab her hands, pulling her to her feet. Her skin is cool to the touch, though that doesn’t stop electric sparks from reverberating through me at the simple connection. “Now,the rules are simple. When I say ‘Zane says,’ you do exactly as I say. If you mess up, there’s a penalty. If you succeed, there’s a reward. Ready?”
She rolls her eyes, a gesture so familiar and full of her old spirit that it makes my heart clench with hope.
“Fine. Whatever. Just make it quick. I need to change before we leave, and Aria doesn’t seem like the type to accept tardiness.”
“Zane says,” I begin, my voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper, “touch your nose.”
She does it, her movements stiff and sarcastic.
“Zane says, spin in a circle.”
She spins, a slow, graceful turn that’s more weary than whimsical.
“Zane says, stick out your tongue.”
She does, her pink tongue a flash of defiance that makes my cock stir in my pants.
There are other uses for that perfect tongue…
“Hop on one foot.”
She starts to hop, a clumsy, resentful motion. I let her go for a few seconds before I burst out laughing.
“Gotcha!” I crow.
She stops, planting both feet and glaring at me. “You didn’t say ‘Zane says.’”
“Exactly! Penalty time!” I rub my hands together with glee. “The penalty is…you have to tell me a secret. A deep, dark, embarrassing secret.”
Her face shutters. “No.”
“Oh, come on. It’s the rules.” I pout, leaning in close. “I’ll go first. When I was twelve, I tried to teach my grandmother’s parrot to swear, but it only learned to say ‘Zane is a little shit’ in her exact voice. Scared the hell out of me for weeks.”
The corner of her mouth twitches. It isn’t a smile, but it’s a start.
“Your turn,” I prompt.
She hesitates, then mumbles, “I used to think the characters in books were real and that if I read a book too many times, I’d wear out their world and they’d die.”
