15. “Fun and Games” - Kelsea Ballerini
“Fun and Games” - Kelsea Ballerini
Walker
The weekend has thrown me off. My plans included compiling my research notes and making a comprehensive strategy for tackling the resources at the Archives. My plans did not include thinking about Heath, the way I felt when I was with him, or how turned on I’ve been since then.
I tried not to read anything into the fact that he didn’t leave with anyone from the club.
When Tuesday morning rolls around, my list for conquering the G.R. Huntington room at the Archives only has four line items. I also have yet to make plans with Heath to go back to the Archives.
Trying not to think about being alone in that room with him only leads to one thing: thinking about being alone in that room with him.
I knew this would happen if I allowed myself to be distracted. This was the risk I was doing everything to avoid. Because now that I’ve been sucked in, getting out is as easy as escaping quicksand.
Example number one: this text from Lux.
Lux: Don’t forget about poker night tonight! Candle lady is going down!!!!!!! !
Me : I’m sorry. I can’t make it tonight. x
Lux : Walker Jean, if you do not get your butt over to Pierce’s we will descend on your haunted house like zombies xx
I know better than to argue with her. She’ll only sic Maeve on my ass. Fine , I text back. I’ll be there.
This time I don’t destroy my entire closet looking for something to wear. I choose a buttoned cardigan, houndstooth trousers with rolled cuffs, a belt, and black boots.
When I arrive, only Maeve and Pierce are at the flat. They’re mixing cocktails in the kitchen like a married couple. I mention this, and Maeve shoots daggers into my head with her dark eyes.
Lux and Rhett show up soon after, and Lux squeals again like she’s seeing me for the first time. How has it only been a week since I ran into her at WNX?
She is shuffling cards when Heath walks in, a faded baseball cap hiding all of that hair.
He’s wearing cut-off denim shorts, a striped T-shirt, and high-top sneakers—the epitome of casual comfort.
My body tenses as he approaches, the opposite of casual comfort.
I’m already too aware of every movement he makes.
I chose my seat strategically tonight, placing myself between Pierce and Lux. My thinking was that no matter where Heath ends up sitting, it won’t be next to me. I didn’t take into account that if he sits across from me, he’ll be in my direct line of sight.
Which is, of course, what happens.
He pulls out his chair and drops into it. As he does, I let out an involuntary gasp.
The skin around his left eye is stained a deep purple. I lift my hand to cover my mouth, hoping no one heard my response. The others don’t mention his appearance. Either they all already know what happened or they assume he’s going to share during the game.
We start to play, but I’m finding it hard to focus. Who gave him the black eye? Heath is the most laid-back and easy-going guy I’ve ever met. If someone punched him—
Then it hits me with startling clarity.
I should have thought of it right away, but it’s been two years. I’ve forgotten some of the intricacies of his family life. Besides, the rest of us have all moved out and are living on our own by now. What’s keeping him there? He’s twenty-four years old, after all.
I glance at the cards Lux has dealt me, a king and queen of hearts. There’s a ten of hearts already on the table. I actually have a chance at winning this round. If I do, Robert Lawrence will be our next victim.
My eyes can’t stay away from Heath’s beautiful, bruised face. When I look up, his gaze is already on me. A flashback to Saturday night at the club makes heat climb my neck. I drop my eyes back to my cards and will this night to end quickly.
Pierce serves us an Elderflower Spanish Gin and Tonic. It’s actually good, which means I need to pace myself. Alcohol made me stupid the other night. I can’t afford to let the same thing happen again.
After Lux unveils an ace of hearts on the table, Rhett opens the next round of betting. “Some wanker side-swiped my car.” He drops an entire handful of chips into the center. He must have a decent hand. That one’s going to be hard to top. Rhett’s car is practically his mistress.
Pierce hisses through his teeth. “Not the Maserati?”
Cartoon smoke curls from Rhett’s ears. “The bloody bastard. It’s at the Rebel Wrench right now, but they said it will be two weeks before I get it back.”
Lux’s attention snaps to him. “I thought we don’t patronize them anymore.” Her tone is coated in ice.
He shrugs. “They’re the best.”
“Sure you weren’t parked in a handicap spot again?” Maeve asks innocently .
He flips her off.
“Just asking, god.” She turns to Heath. “By the way, did you pick up those prawns?”
He nods and shifts in his chair. The movement echoes through my own body. “They’re on the back terrace, rotting their little hearts out.”
“Brilliant.” Maeve looks at me and winks. “Your candle lady is going to rue the day she was born.”
I give her a weak thumbs-up. I’m failing to see a way out of this mess, no matter how hard I try.
Maeve claps her hands, her favorite signal for garnering attention. “Okay, back to the game,” she says, even though she’s the one who interrupted us in the first place.
It’s Heath’s turn to bet. I find the breath lodged in my throat. He has to top Rhett’s huge raise. Out of all of us at the table, I’m guessing he’s the only one with anything close.
“The guy that cut me off in traffic,” he says as his chips hit the rest of the pile.
“Hold up.” Rhett raises a palm. “Some guy cut you off in traffic .” Asking if Heath’s a fucking idiot would’ve been more subtle.
“Yep.”
“So we’re just, what,” Rhett says, leaning forward in his chair, “going to ignore that bloody shiner on your face?”
“This?” Heath points to his bruised eye and lifts the side of his mouth. “I was hammered and ran into a doorjamb.”
“Dude.” Everyone is staring at Heath now. “I can practically see the imprint of the bloke’s fist on your eyelid,” Rhett says.
“Hey,” Maeve interjects. “How do you know it wasn’t a woman?”
Pierce scoffs under his breath.
She slugs him in the arm.
“Ow.” He rubs his bicep.
“See?” she says with a smug smile.
Heath studies his cards. “It’s not a big deal,” he says quietly.
Rhett scoots his chair back so hard the ice in my tumbler shifts and clinks against the glass. “Not a big deal? What is going on, man? Who was it?”
“Hey.” Heath looks him straight in the eye. “Don’t worry about it.”
“When someone beats up my best friend, I’m sure as fuck going to worry about it.” Rhett leans on his hands, a muscle in his jaw jumping. “Tell us who it was.”
Heath shakes his head like he can’t believe he’s friends with these prats. “It was just my dad, okay?”
I count three beats of silence as everyone processes this. Has he not told any of them?
Then Lux, who doesn’t tolerate silence when talking will do, says, “Your dad did that to you?”
Heath’s eyes catch on mine for a split second before returning to the cards in his hand. “Yeah” is all he says.
“Holy fuck,” Maeve mutters under her breath. “That’s mine. I bet Robert fucking Lawrence.” She tosses her chips into the pile.
“Fold.” Pierce smacks his cards onto the table.
I follow his lead and toss my cards down too. “Fold.”
Like clockwork, Lux and Rhett do the same.
Maeve arches a perfectly groomed brow at Heath. “What’s it going to be, bruiser?”
He levels a glare at each of us in turn. “No.”
Maeve scoffs. “What do you mean, no ? This isn’t twenty questions.”
“You’re not getting revenge on my dad.”
“Why the hell not?” Lux says, incredulity lining her voice.
“Because if he’s going down, it will be because I took him down.” He pushes his chair back and stalks out of the room.