Chapter 8
Brody
Two parties in one weekend wasn’t my speed, but Cal wanted out of the house, now that the enemy was living with us. Marjory seemed to have made it her mission to “bring Cal out of his shell,” and now he had no peace at home. I couldn’t say I blamed him.
Getting roped into a team-building exercise wasn’t what I’d expected of a frat party, however. A line had to be drawn somewhere in this madness.
Marcus, thorn in my side and determined fucker, had talked the entire team into playing something.
When I entered the den, there were two lines of people in the room, women on one side, guys on the other.
So essentially, it was the team and the girls who loved them.
Great. Marcus was wandering up and down, holding a long black piece of fabric.
Fuck, could I still leave? I had to grab Cal and get the hell out of there.
“Now, Brody, we’re going to start with you, since this is a team-building exercise, and you’re one of the new guys,” Marcus announced.
“Yeah, and singling out the new guy is definitely the way to make him feel welcome.”
Marcus laughed and slapped me on the shoulder. “Glad you get it. Unless you’re too pussy to play?” he goaded me.
“What’s the game?” I ground out. Fuck, he was annoying.
“Blind body check. Super simple. Your partner has to guess who you are. Here, put this on.” He handed me a strip of material. A blindfold?
Silence fell around us. Our little game had drawn attention. The Ice Gods got attention wherever they went, and I had quite the reputation myself. Both me and Cal were well-known hockey players in the small, insular world of college ice hockey. Everybody loved fucking drama. All eyes were on us.
“Okay, sure, Bailey, since it floats your boat that much… why don’t you do it?” I challenged Marcus.
He raised an eyebrow at me and then shrugged, stepping forward to tie the blindfold.
“Kinky… I like it, but don’t get any ideas, Sinclair, I’m spoken for.”
Just before he tied the blindfold and the world went dark, I saw Cal slip in from the patio and watch me with an inscrutable gaze.
“Here, drink this, the game will be more fun,” Marcus said and pressed a shot glass into my hand.
Fuck it.
“Trying to get me drunk? Don’t forget your pretty little professor,” I murmured.
“She’s my fiancée, asshole, and don’t worry, I’m just trying to loosen your tight ass up,” he said.
His friends broke into laughter. He even pulled a chuckle from me.
“I hate to break it to you, but you’re not my type,” I said, drawing more laughter from our spectators.
“That came out wrong, but whatever, let’s play. I’m going to go and bring the rest of the players in.”
I waited, feeling dumber by the second for agreeing to this. Just when I was about to pull the bloody blindfold off and leave, I heard Marcus cajoling people into the room.
I sighed and resigned myself to having to stay.
“Marcus,” a smoky female voice spoke from my left side. If a pout had a voice, that would be it.
“Come on now, you promised.”
“You better not lead me into a wall. In case you haven’t realized, I don’t like being blindfolded.”
That voice. I knew it. It was her. Fucking hell. Did Marcus know about our home life, or was this just a coincidence?
“No one is going to touch you. You’re in control, remember?” Marcus’ voice was a note softer when he spoke to Selena.
I couldn’t see shit with the blindfold on, but there was no mistaking her voice.
“I’ll be right here, watching,” he said. “You’re safe.”
“Fine, whatever. Let’s get this over with,” she said.
“That’s the spirit!”
There was rustling and then the feeling of someone coming close to me.
“Okay! Has everyone got their partners in front of them?”
A chorus of agreements went round.
“The way the game works: You are both blindfolded. One partner reaches out and touches the other, trying to identify them through touch alone. Then you can switch, or not, up to you. Go!”
I went to protest but bit my tongue. My voice and accent were a dead giveaway.
I stayed there in the darkness, waiting, until I thought Selena had chickened out. But then a soft touch landed on my arm.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I hope this is okay.”
I didn’t want to respond and blow my cover.
I wanted to see what she’d do when she found out it was me.
After all, I’d warned her this morning not to come to any parties without my permission.
What were the chances she wasn’t drinking either?
It looked like the little heathen in the room next door was already begging to be punished for rule-breaking.
I stepped a tiny bit closer to encourage her.
Her hand ran up my arm to my shoulder, over my bare skin, her touch hot, trailing awareness in its wake.
The blindfold scratched against my skin, and I had to fight the urge to take it off. I wanted to watch her as she touched me. The thought came out of nowhere. I wanted her to pay attention, in a situation where she couldn’t ignore me. No one ignored me. It just didn’t happen… until her.
But wasn’t this childish? As my father had reminded me, I’d put away childish games long, long ago and should end this.
I could call out her name and finish this game right here and now. That was the best thing to do.
I was about to do that, opening my mouth, just as her fingers reached my face, brushing over my lips.
“Sorry!” she murmured. Her finger sank into my open mouth, and she jerked it back. “I promise, I’m not trying to be weird,” she continued and then paused. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
I held my tongue. Her fingers returned to my face, cupping my jaw.
“If you aren’t speaking, it means that you think I’d know your voice,” she mused.
Smart. She cupped my face with two hands and slid her thumbs over my cheeks, felt around my nose and up and over my eyebrows. She rubbed her thumbs over my ears and sent heat sliding down my spine. Fuck, why did that feel so good?
Farther up the line, people were calling out the names of their partners, but Selena didn’t seem to have a clue yet.
Her touch was doing something to me. Something I had no experience with.
It was curious but cautious. Probing but shy.
It was at odds with the little hellfire who’d mouthed off at me so perfectly this morning.
The rude little rebel who knew what buttons to push to piss me off.
If I hadn’t already known it was Selena, I’d never have guessed, from the sweet hesitation of her touch.
“Three minutes left! If you’re not sure yet… you might lose this round!” I could hear the grin in Marcus’ voice. He was clearly enjoying the chaos he’d caused.
“Shit,” Selena muttered and ran her hand down my arm and picked up my hand.
She lifted it. I had no idea where she was going with this, then her lips ghosted along the back, her hot breath fogging my skin.
Heat ripped through me. I was only human after all, and being touched all over by a beautiful woman, and your hand practically licked, was something that would affect even the most stoic of souls.
And just like that, I was fucking hard again.
I had a problem around this girl of popping a stiffy whenever she came close.
Hell, soon she might just have to look at me to send my blood rushing to my cock.
What was it? Was it her defiance? Her rudeness?
How she didn’t give a single fuck what anyone thought? I’d never met anyone like her.
She ran her nose up the back of my hand, breathing me in. She paused for a moment, her fingers tightening. My heart beat faster, like I was running drills. There was no explanation for the sudden nerves as she drew in a nearly inaudible breath.
Then she spoke and ruined it.
“Bellend?” she murmured softly.
What the fuck?
“Bellend?” Marcus repeated, right there. His laughter ricocheted around my head.
“I mean, I don’t know if you’re thinking of who I think you are, but that nickname is perfect—”
“Brody,” Selena cut in. “Brody Sinclair.”
“Ding-ding-ding! Look at you go. You always could keep up, Selena. Bravo.” Marcus pulled both our blindfolds off at once with a flourish and then floated away to check on the other couples.
I spied Asher playfully punching Beckett in the chest farther up the line. Marcus’ game seemed to have accomplished what it had set out to do, seeing as everyone was talking and there was a general sense of camaraderie.
I met Selena’s narrowed eyes.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” she asked immediately.
“Funny, I was going to ask you the exact same thing.”
She rolled her eyes and went to turn away, but I quickly lashed out and grabbed her right hand.
“I told you the new rules, Selena.”
“You’re not the boss of me, Brody Sinclair. Get that through your head. I don’t care about your money or charm, or popularity. I have nothing you can threaten me with… because I have nothing to lose.”
Then she turned around and walked away.
Oh, little heathen… you’re sorely mistaken.
“Let’s get out of here,” Cal said an hour later.
“Can’t.” I took a swig of my beer and watched the gyrating dance floor.
Selena’s friends had pulled her to the edge. They were dancing, while she swayed against a wall. She was drunk, again. Really drunk.
“Aren’t you taking an undue amount of interest in our new stepsister? Let her party. Who cares?”
“Father cares. She reflects the family, and she has no idea how she’s supposed to act, clearly.” I pointed at her with my beer bottle. “She’s legless again.”
“It’s not your problem. Maybe she wants to be legless.”
“It’s a scandal waiting to happen. Last time it was falling off the pool house roof. What will it be next time? Off a cliff? There are plenty of them around here.”
Cal was quiet for a long moment, studying Selena and the way she stumbled. Her friends were in just as bad a state, but they each had an Ice God looking out for them.