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There is nothing sexual about their relationship, but I genuinely think Anastasia would be perfectly happy having a platonic marriage with him.
Catching up with some people whom I haven’t seen in a while, I try my best to fend off the questions about me not playing, all while keeping an eye out for my girl.
She eventually appears on the bottom step of the stairs, her eyes scanning around the room. Her green dress isn’t visible anymore because she’s wearing a Titans T-shirt that drowns her body.
I feel weird watching her from across the room, but she’s so fucking beautiful, I couldn’t take my eyes off her even if I wanted to. She eventually spots me in the kitchen, cracking a breathtaking smile, and the satisfaction I feel when I realize she was looking for me is unmatched.
She’s halfway across the living room when arms wrap around her, stopping her in her tracks, and an uncomfortable feeling settles in my stomach.
His head buries in her neck, and my blood pressure is back on the up. Do I have a right to be jealous? I mean, she’s not my girlfriend, but she’s my something. Will I always be a bit jealous of Ryan Rothwell? Maybe, but I hope not.
I know Olivia broke things off with him. Anastasia had a coffee date with him yesterday, and he told her Olivia has baggage and always had one foot out of the door. Does he think that he’s going to get Anastasia back now?
I’m trying not to interrupt but it’s hard to stay put. Fighting my instincts is hard, but nothing good has ever come for me trying to force exclusivity on her. I think he was talking in her ear, because she unravels his arms and takes a big step away from him.
I can’t hear because of the music but I can see that he’s drunk as hell, touching her at every chance he can get. She gives him a friendly hug, hopefully because she’s ending the conversation, and he bends down to kiss the crown of her head. When she takes another step back, he looks up to see me staring right at them; his hand scratches at his jaw awkwardly and he gives me a sheepish smile.
I’m still watching Ryan shuffle about, looking uncomfortable, when I feel her arms wrap around my waist. “So youcouldsee me then. Why didn’t you save me?” she grumbles, creeping onto her tiptoes to kiss the corner of my mouth.
“I didn’t know you needed saving.” Her big blue eyes are staring up at me, and her eyebrows pinch together. “I know he’s a good friend. I didn’t want you to think I was interfering.”
“Uh, okay, Mr. Diplomatic.” Her arms link around my neck. “Next time, save me. I love Ryan, he’s a great friend, but the only man I want wrapped around me is you.”
Shit.“Noted.”
“He’s a touchy person and he’s drunk, but I put him straight. Don’t hold it against him; I think he’s sad about Liv.”
I feel relieved right now. I could have stormed off the second he touched her, or worse, stormed over there and started some drama. I could have jumped to conclusions and fucked everything up. Brushing the hair away from her face, I tuck it behind her ears, resting my hands on each side of her neck, rubbing gently as she looks up at me. “What did you say to him?”
“I told him I’m with you and he couldn’t be all over me because I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. Is that okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to say.”
She bounces about nervously, the elf shoes still on her feet. I lean down to press my lips against hers, savoring the way her tongue moves against mine. “Sounds perfect to me.”
THIRTY-ONE | ANASTASIA
Beingaround a campfire reminds me of camping when I was younger.
My parents plowed every spare dollar they had into skating, so we couldn’t afford to go on exotic or luxurious holidays when I was a kid. But every summer we would camp at Snoqualmie Passfor a few nights, and I loved it.
I’d help Dad build a campfire, and Mom would prepare the stuff for s’mores, then we’d sit in front of the fire all night, playing cards.
A campfire in the backyard of a big-ass house in Maple Hills isn’t quite the same as the Washington wilderness, but the company is good. The party started to naturally get louder the more drunk people got, so the guys thought it would be a great time to head outside and sit on huge comfy camping chairs, drink beer, and talk nonsense like old women.
I’ve started to sober up after my excessive shot taking from earlier. Now, I’m just left feeling sleepy and needy. Robbie is extremely pleased with his new game but has decided that next time, he’s going to take away the cups of soda to make it worse and put another person on the mat. I didn’t even know there was soda on offer because all I got was tequila.
I’m grateful that Henry threw the game because I was seriously going to vomit.When I managed to grab him after Gen-gate, he said he took his hand off the mat on purpose because he was worried she was going to accidentally expose herself. I said what about me and the risk of me exposing myself? He said it was only a matter of time until that happened anyway, and I should probably invest in some pants.
He’s in a bad mood now because when he tried to find his mistletoe girl, she and her friend were nowhere to be found.He didn’t think to get her number or, you know, her full name.
The crackle of the fire is relaxing, to the point where I might fall asleep outside. It doesn’t help that I’m curled up on Nathan’s lap under a blanket, his hand tickling up and down my leg and his other arm cradling me like I’m a baby. It sounds strange, but I’m ridiculously comfortable. He’s laughing away with his friends, talking about sports, and sipping on a beer. He keeps name-dropping sportspeople I’ve never heard of, which is helping me stay zoned out.
Every so often he looks down and kisses me on the forehead, checking that I’m comfortable enough and I’m warm enough. Then he wraps the blanket around me tighter and makes sure none of me is exposed.
There’s a warm, full feeling in my heart when I’m around this team. It’s unfamiliar but familiar at the same time; a contradiction, I know, but so specific that it feels like it was specifically designed for me. It’s the feeling I didn’t know I needed until these guys crashed their way into my life three months ago.
Every second that passes makes it harder to keep my eyes open, his heartbeat drums softly against where my cheek is resting like a lullaby, and eventually, I can’t fight it anymore and my eyes flutter closed.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been out when the shouting shakes me from my deep sleep, but it’s Nate springing to his feet that properly wakes me up.
