Chapter 27
Izzy
It’s endlessly unfair that when men want to dress classily, they get to throw on tuxedos, whereas women have to deal with
skirts and open-toed shoes. I’m freezing, bouncing in place despite the fact we finally made it from the sidewalk to the inside
of the laser tag place. This silky black dress looks fantastic on me, and yes, I helped Cooper and Nik come up with this idea
for the team formal, but I wasn’t thinking about the weather when I decided to go all Miss Congeniality . I spare Nik another glance. It’s also unfair that tuxedos do so much for guys. I haven’t stopped sneaking looks at him since he swung by the house earlier to set
things up for the afterparty, and I’d be embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact he’s done the same to me. He’s still looking
at me now as he leans against the wall, ankles crossed, hands in his pockets. Grinning.
He could put James Bond to shame, especially with that scar. He has no business looking this hot or showing me so much attention,
especially surrounded by the entire hockey team. It’s been a week since our conversation about Chance, and if anything, he’s
taken it as permission to get bold. We nearly got caught in the pool locker room the other day, thanks to his insistence that
one orgasm wasn’t nearly enough.
“Gentlemen,” Cooper says, clapping his hands together. “And your invited guests. Welcome to the team formal.”
“It’s... laser tag?” a skinny freshman I don’t recognize asks.
Cooper snaps his fingers, pointing at him. “Yes. But not just laser tag. Nikolai and I—”
“And your sister,” Nik interrupts.
I stand taller, hoping the blush doesn’t show on my face. I won’t lie, it’s weird to see them becoming friends. Or at least
friendly enough to plan this event together. When they approached me in the library earlier this week to ask for help deciding
on a theme, I nearly spit out my coffee. They wanted to just do dinner—boring—but I convinced them that they could bring the
formal vibe to an activity the guys would actually like. Cue the laser tag. I also persuaded them to keep the dress code,
because the only thing more fun than running around half-tipsy in the dark is to do it in themed costumes.
“—and Izzy, yes, party planner extraordinaire, have created a game that will test you,” Cooper continues. “Challenge you.
Make you regret only renting your tuxedo, Hazelton”—everyone laughs at that, including the skinny freshman who must be Hazelton—“and
most importantly, bond you as a unit.”
“By playing laser tag?” Evan drawls. He brought his boyfriend along tonight, a guy named Xander. According to Cooper, it’s
new, but Evan’s happier than he’s ever seen him. They do look adorable together, casually holding hands... like how Penny’s
lingering by Cooper, and how Sebastian’s resting his chin atop Mia’s head. Oh, and not to mention Victoria and Aaron, looking
absolutely lovesick. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to tell them to open it up to partners and friends, too. I’m bombarded
by romance everywhere I look.
“Not just any laser tag,” Nik says, a dramatic note in his voice. “We’re playing capture the flag.”
I grin as the guys all start talking over each other. It might be strange to see Nik and Cooper getting friendly, but it’s
nice, too. They put a lot of work into this plan, so their teammates better appreciate it.
“Are there actual flags?” Aaron asks.
“We get to shoot each other, right?” another guy calls.
“Haven’t you ever played laser tag?” Cooper says. “It’s going to be a bloodbath.”
“A bloodbath of fun,” Nik adds, letting his Russian accent, usually very slight, hit more strongly than usual.
I raise an eyebrow, and he throws me a wink.
Electricity zings down my body. I don’t dare look at Cooper; hopefully he didn’t notice. This might’ve been my idea, but I’m
playing with fire tonight. I know it, and I know Nik knows it... and yet I can’t help but blush at that wink.
“We’ll split into two teams,” Cooper continues. “I’ll captain one, and Abney will captain the other. We’re all playing as
secret agents trying to secure vital intelligence—the other team’s flag—before the enemy.”
“What’s the prize?” someone calls out.
Cooper turns to Nik, who says, “One free pass on practice... and front-row seats to any NHL playoff game you want, on me.”
Just like we thought, the prize is a total hit. I give Nik another small smile as we split into teams. Maybe he’s finding
a place on this team after all.
Fifteen minutes later, I hitch my skirt around my waist as I dart from one fake rock to the next, blue plastic gun in hand. It’s dark in here, aside from the glow-in-the-dark props and the laser gun flashes. Even though a truly terrible throwback soundtrack blares from hidden speakers, I’m hearing way more of the overly dramatic shouting, teasing, and laughter. I pass Penny chasing after Cooper—she ended up on Nik’s team, whereas I’m on Cooper’s—and spot Sebastian tugging Mia behind another fake rock, presumably to make out with her. (They came for the booze and the excuse to dress up, anyway.) Victoria raises her hand in a wave as she passes me; she’s hot on Aaron’s heels. I wonder if she’s going to smack him or kiss him when she catches him—either is possible, given how he grinned when they ended up on opposing teams.
A guy on Nikolai’s team fires a shot at me, but I twist before it can hit the target on my vest. Mickey shot me right at the
beginning of the game, but otherwise, I’ve done a good job of retaining my lives. Cooper sent me, Evan, and Hazelton on the
offense, hoping that we can sneak around the edges of the room to grab the flag waving tantalizingly on top of the red team’s
tower. Even though the prize doesn’t matter nearly as much to me, I’ll never turn down a challenge. I’m a Callahan. I’ve been
trained since birth to dominate games.
I skid behind a large rock, peering over the top as I aim my gun. I see a flash of red and shoot, ducking before they spot
me. Nik’s team flag waves in the distance. I want to see the look on his face when he realizes I’m the one who stole it. The
next place for cover is a little far ahead, but if I time it right—
A familiar hand curls around my wrist.
“Isabelle,” Nik says, still using that pronounced accent. I should laugh at how ridiculous it sounds, but for some reason,
it makes my nape prickle. “When did you betray me for the enemy?”
I smile sweetly. “Who says it was my betrayal?”
“I’m wanted in twenty-seven countries,” he says, sounding for all the world like he just walked out of an action movie. Someone
should bottle that rasp and sell it. “And yet I’m risking it all to see you.”
“You’re so ridiculous.”
He presses his gun into my side. “If the pretty girl won’t cooperate...”
“I’m terrified,” I deadpan, although I shiver, lips twitching into a smile, when his hand curves over my hip. “How did you
even find me?”
He says something to me in Russian. My eyes widen. He’s only spoken the language to me once or twice, and that’s because I asked him to. I know it’s his voice, obviously, I’d recognize it anywhere, but the way it catches on the syllables is smoother, sexier. He adds something else, grinning at the look on my face. The noise of the game melts away.
Yep. Russian is officially way sexier than English.
“While that’s unfairly hot,” I say with a tremble, “what—”
“It’s impossible for me not to notice you,” he says. There’s depth in his voice, as if saying this is costing him something.
“You walk into a room and I know it’s you, instantly, solnishko. You couldn’t hide from me if you tried.”
“That word.” My pulse hammers wildly. He said it once, presumably when he thought I was asleep. “I remember it.”
His hand digs into my thigh, just under the slit in the dress. I hook my fingers in his tuxedo jacket, pulling him even closer.
“It’s what I think of when I see you.” His nose skims up the side of my neck; he kisses my ear. “Little sun.”
My breath falters as he gathers my hair over one shoulder. He sucks on the spot over my pulse until there’s no doubt it’ll
leave a hickey. A claim. I feel warm, and not from the pre-gaming we did at the house. I’ll have to be careful to cover it
with my hair, but right now, I don’t care.
I freeze as the realization hits me. I don’t care.
I wish I could walk out of here wearing his hickey, his tuxedo jacket; I wish I could pepper his face with lipstick kisses.
I wish more than anything that I could kiss him in front of everyone, my brothers included. But claiming comes with a label,
and he’s never used that word to describe me. Solnishko is beautiful, but it’s not the same as girlfriend .
I ease away, trying to find the right words—any words—to combat the sudden tumble of my heart.
“Nik,” I whisper, breath hitching.
He pulls me close once more. “Yes, solnishko?”
My hands feel slick; I nearly lose my grip on the stupid plastic gun. I wet my lips, searching those gold-flecked eyes. I
have no idea what to say. All I know is that I don’t want to lose this, in whatever form I can have it. We wouldn’t be kissing
if the lights came on, no matter what he whispers in my ear.
So instead, I raise my laser gun to his vest and shoot him in the ribs—right as Evan pulls down the red team flag.