Chapter 18 #3
"Dude," I say quietly, breaking the awkward silence that feels thick enough to slice.
Ethan's eyes flash with that self-righteous anger I've come to recognize. "What? She wasn't even trying."
"It's UNO, not a corporate merger," I point out, keeping my voice deliberately casual though I can feel my jaw tightening. "No need to bite her head off."
"Oh, like you would know anything about serious relationships," Ethan retorts, his voice dripping with condescension. "Charlie's told us all about your reputation."
Beside me, Charlie stiffens, her entire body going rigid. I feel her knee press against mine under the table—not a playful nudge this time, but seeking reassurance. "I've done no such thing," she says, her voice steel-edged.
"Please. You've known this guy what, a few months? And suddenly he's the perfect boyfriend?" Ethan shuffles his cards aggressively, the plastic snapping loudly in his hands. "Let's just play."
The atmosphere has soured like milk left in summer heat, but no one wants to be the first to quit.
We continue, the playful edge now replaced with something sharper, more dangerous.
Ethan's intensity ratchets up with every card played, his knuckles whitening around his hand, and I find myself increasingly motivated to ensure he doesn't win.
Not just for my pride, but because the way his eyes keep flicking accusingly to Charlie makes something protective and primal flare in my chest.
When my turn comes around again, I have the perfect card—another wild draw four. I slap it down in front of Ethan with a smile that's all teeth and zero warmth. "Draw four. Again. I choose blue."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ethan explodes, throwing his cards down so hard they scatter across the wooden table. "This is bullshit. You're clearly targeting me."
I lean back in my chair, the picture of innocence, though my heart is hammering with adrenaline. "I'm just playing the game, man. Maybe the cards just don't like you tonight."
"Oh, fuck off. You've been gunning for me since we sat down." His face has turned an ugly mottled red.
"Ethan!" Emily gasps, but there's a hint of satisfaction in her expression, a gleam in her eyes that says she's enjoying his meltdown.
I shrug, rolling my shoulders leisurely. "If you can't stand the heat, kitchen, et cetera..."
"Whatever." Ethan shoves away from the table with enough force to make the remaining cards jump. "This game is for kids anyway."
"Funny, you seemed pretty invested when we started," Charlie observes dryly, but I can feel her trembling slightly beside me.
Ethan glares at her, then shifts his venomous gaze to me. "You two deserve each other," he spits, the words intended as an insult but landing more like a compliment. He storms out, following Olivia's earlier path, his footsteps thundering down the hallway.
The three of us sit in silence for a moment before Emily bursts into laughter. "Oh my God, that was amazing. I haven't seen him that pissed since Charlie beat him at Monopoly three Christmases ago."
Charlie turns to me, her eyes dancing with barely suppressed laughter. "You were deliberately targeting him."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," I say, gathering the scattered cards. "I was simply playing the statistical probabilities of the UNO algorithm."
"Bullshit," she laughs, nudging my shoulder with hers. "You were totally being my knight in shining armor."
"Well, maybe I didn't like the way he was talking to you and Emily."
Emily makes a sound like a squeaky toy being stepped on. "This is too cute. I'm getting cavities just watching you two."
"Shut up, Em," Charlie says without heat, her eyes still on mine.
"Nope, I'm out. I know when I'm third-wheeling." Emily stands, gathering her empty mug. "Night you two." She calls from over her shoulder, rounding the corner.
As she leaves, Charlie and I are left alone at the table, the abandoned UNO cards scattered between us.
"Thank you," she says quietly. "For having our backs."
"Always," I reply. "Guys like that... they drive me crazy. Everything's a competition, everyone's beneath them."
She nods, absently shuffling the cards. "He wasn't always that way. Or maybe he was and I just didn't see it." She pauses. "It's weird. Six months ago, I was devastated when he left. Now I can't imagine why I was ever with him."
Something warm unfurls in my chest. "People change. Or maybe we just see them more clearly from a distance."
"Maybe." She deals two small piles of cards. "Want to play War? Just the two of us?"
"Prepare to lose, Shortcake," I warn her with a grin.
"In your dreams, Montgomery."
We play in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds are the slap of cards on wood and the occasional groan or cheer when one of us wins a battle.
It's simple, almost childlike, but there's something intimate about it.
Just the two of us, knee to knee under the table, occasionally catching each other's gaze over our cards.
"You know," I say after winning a particularly heated war, "I can't actually remember the last time I played cards like this."
"Really?" She looks up, surprise softening her features. "Not even with Tyler?"
I shake my head. "My family wasn't big on game nights. And then when I was competing, everything was so focused on training, nutrition, sponsors." I gather the cards I've won, shuffling them back into my deck. "This is nice. Normal."
"Normal," she echoes, her voice gentle. "I guess I take that for granted sometimes."
"Don't," I tell her. "It's special, having people who want to play silly games with you, who care enough to get competitive or protective."
Something shifts in her expression again. Her fingers brush mine as she lays down her next card.
"You know, for someone who's supposed to be pretending, you're pretty convincing," she says softly.
I meet her gaze steadily. "Who says I'm pretending?"
The air between us changes, charged with possibility. Charlie's eyes drop to my mouth, then back up. I lean forward, just slightly, and she doesn't pull away this time.
This is it.
"Charlotte! Sebastian!" Margaret's voice breaks the moment as she appears in the doorway. "There you are. We're setting up for a movie in the den. Richard's making his famous hot chocolate!"
Charlie blinks, drawing back. "We'll be right there, Mom."
Margaret beams at us. "You two are so cute together. I'm so glad you found each other." She disappears back down the hallway.
Charlie's cheeks redden. "Sorry about that."
"Don't be," I say, gathering the cards. "Your mom's sweet."
We stand, and I find myself reaching for her hand without thinking. She hesitates for just a heartbeat before sliding her fingers through mine.
"For the audience," she says, but her voice wavers slightly.
I squeeze her hand gently. "Right. For the audience."