Chapter 8
2 Months After The Choosing
Dominique
Now that we’ve gotten to the bottom of the Reid situation, and I explained the miscommunication to Imani, I can’t stop thinking about the fact that he was actually talking about me the day we all met. Aggravating as it is that he mistook our names, he made some valid points in his own defense, and now the knowledge is rattling around inside my head like a rat in a cage, trying to break free.
He thinks I’m intriguing. He’s only liked one person since we’ve arrived—me. And I kind of yelled at him.
I mean, he made my sister cry, so fair is fair. But now that we have all got it out of our systems and Imani is back to being her sweet little self and is even making jokes about it, I feel like I finally have permission to consider the implications.
Reid likes me—has only liked me. He knew right away that I was the one he was interested in.
I don’t know quite what to make of that.
Sean, Parker and Enzo have been cooking up some all-house competition thing all day and are finally getting around to explaining their plans to us.
Sean turns to me and Imani and gives us the rundown of what the first round will be. Essentially, we all have to nominate a housemate for a superlative. Most likely to be governor, most friendly, shit like that. The ones who end up nominating the winning person get a point. If you nominate a loser, no points. Easy enough.
Parker clears his throat and uses his booming voice to announce the first round. “Alright, everyone. You may not change your answer after you have pointed, and the person or persons pointing to the least voted for housemate loses that round.”
A chorus of “okays” and “alrights” sounds off as everyone agrees.
“Okay, first up, which housemate has the best laugh?” Parker scans the group and starts smiling fairly quickly as damn near everyone points at Enzo. The outlier is Reid. Who is pointing at me.
Scowling, I demand, “I have barely even laughed here!”
“The most valuable things in life are rare, are they not?” he says, staring right at me, a small smile on his lips.
This suave motherfucker.
I feel myself melt into a puddle, but try to keep my face as neutral as possible. That was kind of cute. He gets points for that.
“Okay, Reid, well, you lose this one. Sorry friend… Moving on! Which housemate is the most stubborn?” Parker asks. Everyone in the room points to Quinn, except Quinn, who is pointing at Leo. She huffs but takes the loss like a champ.
They switch it up, and Sean takes over commentating. “Current standings have Reid and Quinn in the bottom two. Still time to change some rankings y’all! Getting more serious for this next one. Who here is the best shoulder to cry on?” The room gets quiet as everyone pauses to reflect. After a moment, it’s almost unanimous again, with most everyone pointing at Parker. The exceptions? Ronan and Enzo are both pointing at Miya.
Hmmm. Well, that’s interesting…
“Shucks, I’m flattered, guys!” Parker jokes, acting embarrassed.
The round continues, and there are a few spats to work out as the more competitive types in the house try to outmaneuver each other. In the end, though, the house crowns Ana as the "social butterfly" and Sean as the "wallflower."
For the last round of games, Enzo suggests we play spin the bottle. Because of course he does.
I swear that man has never had someone say no to him. He just exudes sexual energy. And because he’s mister “love man” everyone goes along with it, hoping some of that energy will rub off on them.
We push the couches back, sit in a circle on the floor and Enzo grabs a bottle from the kitchen.
“Okay, who wants to go first?!” Enzo asks as he returns to the group, shaking his hips and grinning suggestively.
“I’ll go!” Fiona—the girl from Ektos—says, jumping up and grabbing the bottle.
Oh, bless her. Sweet, sweet summer child.
She spins the bottle, and it lands on Eli, the tall, gangly kid from Primus that info dumps all the time in an effort to connect with people. He’s shy, with a dry sense of humor, and he is always hiding in the library.
He leans back, a bit shocked, but his eyes are sparkling with something that seems like happiness. She walks over to him on her knees and straddles his lap, not putting her weight down on him, but hovering. She gathers her long, curly red hair over one shoulder and out of her way and then leans in and gives him the softest, sweetest kiss.
Precious, those two.
Once she crawls back over to her spot, she hands the bottle to her left. To Reid.
My back stiffens, and I consider getting up. I don’t know why, but I just don’t want to see him kiss anybody. I shift my weight to one side, prepared to heave myself off the floor, when the bottle stops spinning and lands on me.
Reid’s blue eyes find mine, locking in and sparkling mischievously. What a brat. He cheated and did that on purpose.
“Sorry, hun. You’re going to have to come to me if you’re going to play dirty like that,” I tease.
Boy, does he deliver.
He crawls to me on his hands and knees, his movement smooth like a predator stalking his prey, never letting up on our eye contact. And right before he gets to me, his tongue flicks out to graze his lower lip, wetting it ever so slightly. I stare at his mouth, those lips, and lose my breath for a moment.
How does he do that? How did he just make crawling across the floor look sexy?
He keeps moving toward me, making me shift back to avoid him. We play this little game of cat and mouse until I end up trapped, leaning against the backside of the couch. His eyes heat, and I regret my decisions—avoiding him obviously didn’t work. Or did he manage to communicate this position to me nonverbally? Almost like slow dancing, just forcing me to anticipate his moves?
Either way, I find myself backed away from the group, Reid on his hands and knees over me. His long blond hair hangs around our faces like a curtain, blocking everyone out but us, and I can’t look away.
He looks down at my mouth and then back up to my eyes, sultry as hell, and I feel my whole body getting warmer under the heat of his gaze. We stay like that for a moment, just staring at each other, breathing the same air, locked together in this small moment of our own making before I hear someone whisper, “get a room!”
He chuckles and leans down, kissing me at long last, and I can’t bring myself to pull away.
Enzo lets out a wolf whistle, and we finally break apart. I touch my hand to my mouth and then quickly pull it away, hoping nobody saw the small gesture.
Imani catches my eye, and we share a moment, communicating without words like we’ve done all our life, and I know she’s not mad. Just confused and surprised like I am.