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I grab a cookie and take a seat in one of the nearby chairs. Nicholas sits down next to me.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” I ask.
I try to think back to any information I’ve learned about Nicholas while working for him, and can’t think about a single time when he mentioned any family members.
He shakes his head. “No. It was just me and my mother for many years.” He stares at his water bottle. “My father left when he found out my mother was pregnant with me. She worked a ton of jobs, all the time. I remember her leaving me at the mall, in the arcade to play video games, while she worked at the food court.”
“Is that where you grew to love video games?”
He nods. “Yeah, video games were my babysitter more times than I think my mother is willing to admit. I don’t mind, though, it’s made me who I am today.”
I smile. “Where is she now?”
Before he can answer, my Aunt Char stands in front of us. “Come on, you two. We’re about to play musical chairs.”
“You can’t be serious,” I say.
Nicholas stands. “I love that game.” He holds his hand down to me, and I slip my hand into his. “I should tell you I’m really good at this game.”
“Nobody is good at musical chairs. It’s not a skill-type game.”
“Oh, there’s definitely a skill.” He’s got this smarmy smile and I laugh a little.
“No, there’s not. There’s only one skill, just get your ass in a chair when the music goes off.”
Nicholas chuckles. “Trust me, I’ve got this.”
We walk toward the chairs in the center of the room. My mother goes over the rules. There’s twelve chairs for the thirteen of us playing, and my mother will be manning the music.
Uncle Frank and Byron step up next to me.
“Prepare to lose,” Byron says with a sinister laugh.
“Winner gets the Frost Family Cup,” my mom says, and I snap my eyes to where she stands.
Please don’t tell me she still has the family cup. She does.
She holds it high above her head, and I peek over at Nicholas.
“What is that thing?” he asks with an enormous grin on his face.
I want to crawl into a hole.
“In my defense I was eight years old when Feb and I made that atrocious thing.”
Nicholas stares at the trophy my sister and I made. The bottom of the cup is random Barbie legs we had lying around. Those things pop right off, so easily. The top of the cup, if you can call it a cup, is a giant golden cowgirl hat. The body of this trophy is basically a whole lot of tin foil and washi tape.
“Who’s going home with this gem?” My mother holds it up proudly, feathers dangling from the Barbie legs.
“Oh, I’m winning that thing,” Nicholas says.
I’m mortified, thinking of that atrocity in his hands. “No, you can’t possibly want that.”
“I’m putting it in my trophy case.”
Nicolas has a glass case in his office, filled with gaming awards, plus a copy of every game he’s ever created. The Barbie legs trophy will stick out like a sore thumb.
“No,” I say, horrified.
The music plays, and I’m in motion before Nicholas. I’ve got one mission on my mind: Don’t let Nicholas win that thing.
“All the Single Ladies” blares through the speakers and I stick as closely as possible to the chairs as I go around in a circle.
The music cuts out and I plop down.
Aunt Emily is the first one out, and her husband laughs as she walks over to stand with my mother.
“Ready?” my mother shouts.
The music plays, and once again, I’m trying to stick close to the chairs. My heartbeat amps up as we move around in a circle.
The music stops and Uncle Frank is out.
This continues until only Nicholas and I are left with one lone chair nestled between us.
I can’t believe this.
Nicholas smiles at me as my family watches. “Can I get you to autograph the trophy when I win?”
I shake my head, my smile growing. “There’s no way I’m letting you leave this room with that thing.”
The music starts, and I’m caught off guard. I rush around, trying to stay close to the seat of the chair.
The music stops and I sit down, landing right on Nicholas’ lap.
His hands grip my waist and he growls out the word, “Mine.”
My brain knows he’s talking about the chair, but my body reacts as if he’s talking about me. Claiming me. Letting everyone know that I’m his and nobody else’s.
I should get off his lap, but for some reason I can’t.
And it’s not like he’s releasing his hold on me either.
I glance over my shoulder, gazing into his eyes and they look the same as they did last night.
Dark.
Heated.
Completely turned on.
I’m sure my eyes mirror his.
