She trails her long fingernail up my arm, not breaking eye contact with me until she reaches my shoulder. My shirt isn’t thin, but it fucking feels like it. Each inch her finger moves sets off small explosive bombs up my arm until she gets to my neck where my pulse is hammering.
She’s enjoying this.
In some sadistic way, she’s enjoying torturing me.
When she reaches my neck, she curls her hand around the back of my head, twisting her fingers in my hair, tugging gently. I close my eyes, taking a second to breathe before opening them again. She’s got that sexy, lazy smile on her lips, her cheeks a little red as she presses herself into me.
“Don’t do that, Scar,” I mutter, placing my hand on top of hers, practically swallowing it whole as I drag it from my face.
“Tell me I’m lying, Branson,” she urges.
I cannot.
So, I divert instead.
“Let’s get back to work,” I say, stepping away from her. When I get to my seat, I don’t look at her. I can play along with whatever game she wants to. I’d do just about anything she wanted me to. If she asked me to jump, I’d ask how high.
God, I’d follow her to the ends of the earth if she asked me.
When we settle into a rhythm of comfortable silence, I try my best to ignore whatever just happened between us.
Something shifted.
Either she’s playing hard to get, or she genuinely has no interest in me, and she wants to push me until I break. Unfortunately for her, I don’t have much self-control.
If we were ever that close again, there is no telling what I would do.
Scarlett
After Evan and I leave the library, knowing that I’ll see him again at the game night, I realise two things.
I am going to need to buy more batteries for my vibrator.
I, almost certainly, have some sort of pathetic and emotionally draining crush on Evan Branson.
Fuck. My. Life.
23
Scarlett
I’ve been in the den of Miles’ house for almost an hour, and I already want to leave. There aren’t that many people here, but with the amount of noise Miles and Xavier make you could have imagined at least twenty of us here.
Cobwebs decorate the ceilings and huge spiders lurk in the corners. The punch bowls are a strange green and orange colour, and all the snacks are some Halloween version of big brands. Honestly, it came together a lot better than I thought it would.
A few guys from the hockey team are all huddled in one corner of the room near the impromptu karaoke machine making a racket.Miles, Xavier, and Evan are all dressed in suit and ties, deciding to be the Men in Black as well as most of the hockey team. Their outfits are boring, but they’re men, so who’s surprised.
Wren is wearing a green dress and wings, tying her hair up into a bun so she can look like Tinkerbell whilst Michelle is Iridessa from the Tinkerbell movies. I was going to match with them, but as soon as I heard Kennedy was going rogue, I decided to be a devil instead. It’s hot and sexy and completely opposes Evan’s stupid nickname for me.
Kennedy helped Miles with planning the quiz section of tonight, so she’s off in the dining room meticulously planning about how tonight's going to go. She’s dressed up as the mad hatter from Alice in Wonderland, naturally. Despite the gory looking games, all I know is we’re going to split into teams and compete with one another in a series of random party games. I’m a competitive person, so this will be fun. Especially if I’m playing against Evan.
“We need to start drafting a team name,” Wren says around a mouthful of pizza. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, rubbing the grease against her skirt.
“I agree,” Michelle says, tucking her box braids that fell out back into her bun. “We might even get points for a good name if Kennedy’s judging.”
“Wren, you’re the writer,” I say, nudging her in the shoulder. She blushes a little, sighing. “We need something that will win Ken over.”
“What about ‘Starbucks Lovers.’ It’s the name of our group chat,” Wren suggests.
