Chapter 57
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
Gage has been gone for a few minutes, and I’m doing everything I can so as not to have to go back to the living room with their parents.
I’m not one for small talk, and the atmosphere is off.
And that’s not just because Gage’s mom is a sexy gingerbread man, and Rich won’t stop talking about the hunting trip he has planned at his lake house.
I don’t like Rich. There’s something about him that immediately made me tense.
Also, every time Axel wasn’t looking, Rich sent him the most disgusted looks.
The boys call Rich by his first name, although they call their mom “Mom.” I can see the resemblance to her. She has the same fairy-like features, though they look more masculine on the boys.
I down my drink, then pour another, keeping my bat tucked up under my arm. I didn’t want to leave it in the living room, but now it feels weird to be holding it. It’s stupid, and I hate that Gage made us dress up. His mom is the only other one who participated, and now I feel duped.
I think about the way Gage smiled when I finally agreed and dug his elbow into my ribs. I smacked him for it, which only made him laugh. Then he wrapped his arms around me, scuffing his fist into my hair while I half-heartedly fought him off.
“He okay in there?”
I jump, face hot at the memory I was jolted out of. Rich stands in the kitchen, filling up a solo cup with some pink punch that I think is supposed to look like blood.
“I think so.” I stopped hearing the puking, as well as a door opening and their low voices, so that’s a good thing, I guess.
Rich’s gaze is either on my own drink or my chest. It drops down my body, then back up again. Immediately, he gives a throaty chuckle. “Kids. Can’t hold their alcohol.” His eyes are glassy, although he doesn’t slur. I recognize it well.
I just nod, looking back at the hallway. I need Gage to come back so we can go.
“Can I get you something else to drink?” Rich walks toward me. “We have some juice in here to mix.”
“No, I’m good.” I move the bat into my hand and point it at the floor.
Rich gives me another once-over with his glassy eyes. “So, both of them, huh?”
I frown.
“Kinky.” Rich winks. “Although, if you want my opinion, Axel’s an idiot. You’re better off with Gage.”
My mouth drops open, and for some reason, anger fills my chest like a balloon. These are his boys? How dare he talk about his own kids like this?
Before I can say something, Rich opens the fridge. In doing so, he bumps my arm with the drink and spills it all down my jersey.
I sputter, both from the cold and the accusation.
“Oh my god! I’m sorry!” Immediately, Rich grabs the towel from the oven, and then he’s there, pressing it to my chest. I feel his hand squeeze around my breast.
I see red. Before I can think twice, I take the baseball bat that’s pointed at the ground and jerk it upwards, right between Rich’s legs.
Rich crumples, dropping to the ground, and I yank the bat away, my hand shaking.
It’s at that moment that Axel appears, looking shaken.
I blink. Only, it’s not Axel; it’s Gage in his knight costume, but he’s put the glasses on, and he looks more pale than usual.
“Ready to go?” he asks, then frowns at Rich on the floor. There’s a look of disgust for a second, and then it’s gone.
“He tripped.” I find myself grabbing onto Gage’s arm. It’s just to direct him and has nothing to do with the way my hands are shaking or the slight spin the alcohol has given me. He has the glasses, so he doesn’t need me to lead him.
Still, I don’t let him go.
Gage doesn’t leave right away. Instead, he leans down to where Rich is struggling to stand. Then, in a lethal voice, he says, “Go to your lake house for the night.”
Rich tries to catch his breath, waving us off.
Gage waits for a second, then leans in. “Did you hear me, old man?”
Rich snaps his gaze up to Gage’s. “Who the fuck are you talking to?”
Taking a step closer, I realize again just how big Gage is. His voice is quiet and sends a shiver down my spine. “Go to your lake house, or I’ll rip your balls off and stuff them down your throat until you choke.”
Does Gage know what Rich just did? Did he see it?
For a second, Rich is still. His eyes widen, then he raises his hands. “Jesus, okay. No need to be like that.”
“You’ll stay for a while. If I hear you’ve come back here…”
Rich raises his hands.
Gage stands there until Rich backs off, and when he does, I feel an odd sense of victory.
With some grumbling to Gage’s mom, Rich leaves. Gage then kisses his mom’s forehead and asks her to look out for Axel. She’s confused, but Gage just says Axel threatened to beat Rich’s ass, and he’s too drunk to move him.
When he says that, I get the most unreasonable wash of disappointment. Did Gage not see what Rich did to me?
“Axel okay?” I ask as Gage gets in the car, and I put the keys in the ignition. It’s a question I shouldn’t even be asking. I shouldn’t care how that asshole is doing. I blame it on the small buzz I have going.
Gage’s fake sword bunches up as he folds into the seat. He cusses and pulls it out of his belt, then runs his hands through his hair. “Uh, yeah. He’s just drunk, he’ll be fine.” There’s a long pause, and I almost ask if we should stay, but then I stop.
Axel’s a big boy. He can live with the consequences of his actions.
Discomfort shifts through me. I can still feel Rich’s grip on my breast, filling me with a familiar defeat and disgust. Men are disgusting pigs.
Gage’s hand shifts, and I jump, having gotten so wrapped up in my thoughts that I forgot he was there.
“You okay?”
I glance at him briefly, unsettled that he noticed. There’s a crease between his eyebrows, and his gaze looks soft. But the alcohol-warmed part of my brain gets excited that he noticed. He cares.
I have the insane urge to reach across the console and put my hand on his clenched one.
The thought makes fear jackknife in my chest. Have I learned nothing?
Apparently not, because Gage is upset about something. And the alcohol in my system insists that deep down, he’s a good guy, and I can trust him.
I drive in silence that feels so loaded and yet so…lonely. Nothing feels okay right now. I just want…something to ground me.
Movement makes me glance over. Gage’s hand twitches, and I rip my gaze away from the veins tracing over his hand. I focus on driving.
Then, there’s movement again. When I glance over, Gage’s hand has moved an inch towards me. As we drive, his hand gets closer.
I’m driving with my left hand, my right clasped in a tight fist on my thigh. I should move my hand. Should pull away screaming.
But, for some insane reason, I don’t.
His pinky brushes mine, and an electric zap runs up my arm and down my spine. We sit there for a minute, not moving. My body hums with energy from just that single touch. It’s not a selfish or demanding touch. It’s gentle and hesitant, a lot like Gage.
And for a glorious moment, I feel him through it.
Then, his finger is gone, and my hand is there alone. Gone is the warmth and the comfort, and I want it back.
Ignoring the screaming in my head, I push my hand closer to Gage’s, brushing up over his pinky so my palm sits on his. Just so in this moment, I’m not alone with my thoughts.
Then, he reaches his pinky out and grips mine in a firm touch that isn’t an accident.
I brake for a stop sign a little too hard, jerking myself and him forward.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
Gage turns to me, voice deep with concern. “Are you okay?”
I look at him, seeing his handsome gaze fully focused on me. All I can do is make a choking noise. “Yeah.”
Gage must think I’m choking cause of the seatbelt. “Fuck.” His hands are all over me. All over my shoulders, patting me down, brushing my neck, causing heat to tingle all the way up to my face. “Can you breathe?”
No. But not for the reason he’s thinking. I clear my throat, making a show of brushing those big hands off. “I’m fine.”
Gage looks stricken for a second, and seeing him look like that makes me feel bad. Makes me wish I could take that look off his face. I clear my throat and ease off the brake. “So, uh, the costumes were an attempt to publicly humiliate me, huh?”
Gage lets out a soft breath of air, and then one hand pulls away. I clench my fist in my lap this time, hiding it between my thighs. What the fuck is my problem?
To get the attention off my mortifying reaction, I mutter, “You didn’t tell me this was team Fuck Axel, Embarrass Raven.”
There’s a pause, and I’m not sure if he’s going to answer me. Then, Gage says in a gruff voice, “Yep. That was the plan all along. Get you dressed as a sexy baseball player to embarrass you in front of my parents.”
But my hormones and my buzzed mind scream. Gage called me sexy.
“I don’t mean–I, uh…” Gage stutters. “Sorry, uh. I meant your costume was perfect.”
I stifle back a smile. A prickle of fear and excitement runs across my skin and up the back of my neck. What is going on right now?
Bad things, my anxiety screams. When you trust people, bad things happen.
When we pull into the driveway, I feel Gage’s hand tighten once on mine, and then he’s gone. I feel the loss, and then I see him coming around the car to my side.
Is he… He’s going to open my door.
I open it before he can get there. “I can do it.”
Gage stands there, eyebrow up. “Couldn’t let me get at least one ‘knight in shining armor’ joke in?”
“You’ve had all night.” I stalk around the car to go inside the house, keeping the smile off my face.
Buddy’s excited to see us, jumping around, stepping on toes, and panting with her disgusting breath.
“Okay, okay,” Gage says as he flips on some lights, but there’s no real anger behind his fake annoyance. I move around him to get to the kitchen where the water is, but Gage bumps into me.
“Sorry,” I say automatically.
“Yeah, I don’t think you are.” Gage pops an eyebrow with a slight smirk on his face.
I freeze. He’s… flirting with me. Openly. My heart races.
“You’re right. I’m not.” I move to step around him, but Gage crowds me back against the counter. Immediately, my breathing hitches, and I look up at him. Gage looks down at me with a soft look in his eyes. Then, he raises his hands. “No touching. Just wanted to look at your neck.”
“Huh?”
He bends down to squint at it.
Oh. The seatbelt.
“It’s literally fine.” I try to duck past him, but Gage just shifts so he’s in the way again. Alarm bells ring in my head while excitement fills my veins. His closeness makes me want to scream and run, but also reach out and grab him to pull him closer.
“Don’t bullshit me. Did you feel anything pop?”
Oh, right. He’s talking about my neck. But all I can think about is how I can feel his breath on my skin.
“I was driving, like, five miles per hour.” I cross my arms mostly to keep them from reaching out and tracing the strong torso in front of me. Then I look up at Gage, and his face is intense.
“Answer the question.” It’s a demand.
Fear, intoxication, and lust hit me all at once. Then, doubt and uncertainty. I don’t usually like men to take control, so why in the hell is his bossiness doing something for me?
I realize it’s been too long since he asked the question, and I scoff. “You’re not the boss of me.”
For a heartbeat, Gage stands there. Then he leans back the tiniest bit, and I have the insane urge to flip our positions and pin him against the counter. To see what he’d do. To see if I can get that rush of power from pushing men around.
So, because I’m stupid and a little buzzed, I lean forward and test the limits. “You can’t tell me what to do, Gage Newman.”
Gage’s nostrils flare, and he sucks in a breath while taking the tiniest step back.
It’s like a shot of adrenaline in my veins.
I put my hand on his chest and push. Then I grab his arm, pulling it so his back is to the counter, and our positions are flipped.
I lean in, breasts brushing the fake plastic armor he has on instead of his warm skin.
Both of us are breathing hard. I expect Gage to try and control me. To grump at me and demand I do exactly what he says. But, just like every time we’ve played the game, he doesn’t. He just waits for me to take the lead.
It’s fucking intoxicating. I suck in a breath, enjoying the moment of total control.
Then, fear creeps in. Is this for real? Or is he just manipulating me to trust him so he can take advantage of me?
Get me drunk and off my game enough to do what he wants to me, like bathroom guy? To get me incapacitated like Max?
My thoughts spin round and round, and I’m not sure what to think or do.
“Celeste?” Gage says my name softly, like a question, and it startles me back into reality. He’s looking down at me with a gaze that almost looks… adoring. He looks at my lips like he’s going to kiss me. Like he’s going to take me right here without the game.
And I want him to.
That scares me.
“I, uh, my neck is fine.” I take a step back, heat flushing across my face. I need something, anything to distract from what’s going on right now. I motion at his glasses. “Plus, you should be able to see now that you stole these back.”
Gage’s smile falters.
I keep talking, needing to fill the space. “The glasses are the true victims in this custody exchange.”
I try to move around Gage, and this time he lets me. I grab a glass and fill it with water. I need to sober up, or I’m going to do something really stupid. I wait for it to fill, then swallow down three gulps before I hear Gage moving.
“Speaking of my brother… he, uh… said something about Max tonight.”
I wince, then freeze. Why the fuck was Axel talking about Max?
“Oh yeah?” I play it cool, taking another drink, but this time, it’s hard to swallow. It’s like there’s a rock in my throat. When Gage doesn’t respond right away, the hairs start prickling on the back of my neck.
“I just… he said, was he, uh…”
I turn, and Gage tries to offer me a fake smile.
“What?” The fake smile isn’t helping. In fact, now I feel unease creeping into my gut. I don’t want to know what he’s going to ask, but I also need to know what he’s going to ask.
“You know what, nevermind.” Gage turns away.
“What were you going to say?”
“Nothing. Axel was just drunk.”
“What did he say?” He’s not going to drop Max’s name and then not tell me. I want to know what they think they know. How can I make a plan to stay safe if anything has changed?
“It was nothing. He was just being an idiot.” Gage sounds mad now, which only ups my fear. Why the hell is he mad? For a brief second, I let Gage hear the fear in my voice. He’ll talk to me if he knows I’m afraid.
Then Gage drops his gaze and stares at the floor. He says nothing.
“Fine,” I say. I slam my cup down on the counter and stalk out of the kitchen.
Gage’s frustrated growl follows me, and I stalk to my room and slam the door, still riled up from the closeness of Gage’s body.