Page 49 of The Last Special Thing

Amelia moved her hand to Art’s thigh, her fingers walking underneath the gap between his shorts and his skin.

With her free hand, Amelia pointed to Heaven, echoing Madisson’s movement and the directive of the card.

Art, preoccupied with Amelia, missed the instruction. “You tricked me!”

“I helped you.” An innocence in her tone.

“How so?” He leaned closer, and she felt warm and reckless.

She kissed him. “I knew you wanted to drink.” Then she pulled away and hunched forward for a card.

He hmphed and peeked at her card. “Six. Chicks.” He nodded at her to drink.

“Six. Dicks,” she challenged.

The group looked around at each other. No one was confident in the correct rule.

“Everyone drink!” Max decided.

Amelia rolled her eyes and lifted her beer to her lips. She set it back down as Reyna pulled an eight.

Reyna pointed at Madisson. “You’ll be my mate!”

Madisson giggled and raised her beer in solidarity as the pair sipped. Amelia shifted on the couch. Art tilted his head at her discomfort, but she offered a closed smile, and he let it go.

The drinking game carried on for a dozen more card pulls. Amelia had hoped she'd loosen up with the alcohol, forget about Madisson and Reyna’s newfound closeness. But the alcohol exacerbated her insecurities. She paid more attention to them than to the game.

Twenty minutes later, Max drew the final King. He chugged the center beer, then let out a proud belch, marking the end of the game.

Amelia leaned toward Art and lowered her voice. “Can we get out of here?”

He gave a nod, then stood, reaching his hand out to help her up.

“We’re going for a walk,” Art announced to the group.

He grabbed their jackets and slung his arm around Amelia’s shoulder. She leaned against his chest and breathed him in.

Max, Madisson, and Reyna offered a chorus of goodbyes and headed into the kitchen, presumably for their next drink.

Outside, Amelia shivered in the sudden temperature drop from the cozy apartment. He stepped behind her, rubbing the pink fabric against her biceps. His head bowed, his cheek against hers.

“Let’s warm you up,” he murmured, sweetness in the words.

She tilted her chin up. The stars shimmered above, and a crescent moon shone brightly in the sky. A promising new act of the night.

They walked, hand in hand. No predetermined destination. Not a care in the world. As long as she was with him, they would have a good time.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Art encouraged, slowing his saunter to match her pace.

The streetlights hummed on with a tinged, yellow glow. She exhaled and met his turquoise eyes. He always looked at her earnestly; she never had to fight for his devotion. He handed it over as easily as he breathed.

“I feel like I’m losing Madisson to Reyna,” she admitted. Then, caveated, “I know it’s silly. It’s only been a few days, but they’re both going to SDSU in the fall. They’re making all these plans, and I’m going to be gone. Madisson will move on without me. And I don’t know a single person in L.A.”

As she spoke, she realized the truth was buried beneath the Reyna excuse. It wasn’t about being replaced. It was about being left behind. It brought her back to when Georgina left for college. Then to her parents, who acted like their job of raising kids was done. It was about Weston, who broke up with her casually.

Dabbing the corner of her eye, she was careful not to smudge her eyeliner.

He halted. “Hey, Princess, it’s okay. Madisson talks about you all the time. Also, you’ll make so many friends in L.A. I’m the one who should be worried.” He gestured to himself.