14. Caleb #2
But when I fully face her, it’s not annoyance I see in her eyes. A playful glint lines her features, the corner of her mouth tugging up the longer I hold her finger.
I reluctantly release her finger and refocus on the game, selecting the tile immediately to the left of the one I wanted.
Disappointment falls over me when I realize I’ve drawn a z tile. There’s no possible way to play this tile with my current words, and rather than waste time rearranging them to incorporate this one, I flip it back over and discard the tile into the middle.
As punishment, I have to take three new tiles, but I don’t feel as bad since I discreetly place the z tile closest to Parker, ensuring he will be the one to pick it up. It might be petty, but he needs someone to keep him humble.
“Pick,” Marnie says, head down, surveying where to place her next tile.
Shit. Now I have five extra tiles to place.
“Pick.”
Make that six.
The middle is slowly dwindling as everyone’s words grow and branch off.
Something grazes the side of my foot below the table, and I glance down to find Marnie’s foot nestled against mine. She’s hunched over her tiles, completely in the zone, eyes scouring the board for a spot to place her current letter.
She looks so?—
“Bananagrams!” Marnie hollers, throwing her arms up.
I shake my head in disbelief, still too distracted from the unexpected contact to realize that was her final tile. “Check her words,” I shout to no one in particular.
She whips her head in my direction. “You doubt me?” she teases, giving my foot a small nudge.
Linny stands and walks behind Marnie, index finger moving through the air as she reads each word. “Marnie wins,” she says, slowly clapping as she returns to her seat.
Parker fans his hands up and down in her direction in praise. “Well done, Marnie. You’ve dethroned the King of Bananagrams.”
Linny sniffles, placing a hand on her chest. “Never thought I’d see the day.” She wipes an invisible tear from her eye with her other hand.
“I hate you guys,” I grumble.
Linny leans over to Marnie’s side and cups her hand around her ear, like we are back in junior high sharing secrets in the cafeteria. “Caleb is such a sore loser when it comes to Bananagrams,” she whispers just loud enough for me to hear.
“Am not,” I utter defensively.
“You totally are,” Linny insists, sitting back in her seat. “Parker and I have a running joke about how many times we let you win at Bananagrams just so we wouldn’t have to hear you complain.”
I roll my eyes, and she and Marnie both share a laugh.
Seeing the two of them having fun together softens the blow of losing my favorite board game.
Over the course of a single night, Parker and Linny have embraced Marnie into our small, tightknit circle like she’s been part of it this entire time.
It warms my chest knowing that she fits in so well with them.
“Alright.” Parker claps his hands together, switching subjects. “Linny, you’re up. What did you bring?”
“Well, I thought I would switch things up from Uno since we have an extra person, and I brought Trivial Pursuit. I even found the family-friendly version at the store, because I looked over some of the questions from the advanced edition that my parents have and it was like reading questions from another century.”
“I have an idea.” All eyes look to me. “Why don’t we pair up for Trivial Pursuit? Me and Marnie versus you two.”
“I don’t know if I can work with Linny. I’m still mad at her for winning at Clue again,” Parker mumbles with a pout, looking like a petulant child who was just told he can’t have dessert.
Linny tilts her head and gives Parker her best innocent face. It melts his icy exterior instantly.
“Fine,” he groans into his hands. “I guess I’ll be her partner.”
“You know you love me,” she beams back.
“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, waving her off.
Pairing up turns out to be a great idea. By playing as a team instead of individually, we can cover a lot more knowledge. Plus, it creates a lot more drama and tension when there’s a disagreement in answers. Even more so when the wrong answer is given and the other person knows theirs was right.
The chairs become uncomfortable, so we relocate to the sectional and sit in our pairs.
Marnie rolls the dice and lands on an art square. Parker draws the top card and reads the question aloud. “What color does . . . I can’t pronounce this,” he says, showing the card to Linny.
“Chartreuse,” she enunciates.
Parker shakes his head, scoffing. “That’s not a word.”
Marnie stifles a laugh, leaning closer to me subconsciously.
“This is a ridiculous question.” He clears his throat and reads the card again. “What color does chartreuse most closely resemble?”
Marnie gasps and leans in further, now just inches away. “It’s yellow,” she whispers confidently into my ear.
“Are you sure?” I whisper back, knowing the answer is green. I once had to special order flower seeds that would match this old lady’s chartreuse porch color scheme—she told me it was her favorite shade of green, and she would accept nothing else.
“Yes,” she replies. “Gwen and I watched a sitcom a few months ago and the entire episode was centered around the main character having to find this very particular yellow bridesmaid dress and it ended up being chartreuse. It was the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen, but it was definitely yellow.”
My reputation depended on my ability to purchase green flower seeds for that customer, but the sure look in her eyes has me willing to cede my stance.
“Okay,” I relent. “I’ll defer to you. I’m putting my faith in the accuracy of your sitcom.
If we are wrong, I’ll make sure to let Gwen know that she potentially cost us the game if I ever meet her. ”
Marnie’s eyes crinkle as she lets out a hushed laugh. “We are winning.”
“Every point matters.”
“Final answer?” Parker asks.
I raise my eyebrows at her and she nods in response. “Yellow,” we say in unison.
Parker’s eyes flit between us several times before reading the answer. “Yellow-green.”
“Huh?” Marnie blurts.
“Two answers?” I shout at the same time.
“That’s what the card says.” He flips it around so we can verify. “I guess if you said either color you get credit.”
Linny tosses me a purple wedge and I plop it into our game piece.
“Told you,” Marnie brags. Pride radiates through me at her confidence, but a small, smug part of me loves that I was also right.
She raises her wine glass at me, taking a sip while maintaining eye contact.
When she lowers the glass back to her lap, I can see the smudge of pink lip gloss along the rim in the outline of her lower lip, and I don’t know what comes over me, but I get jealous of a damn wine glass.
After several more rounds of questions, we are behind by one wedge, and it’s Linny’s turn to answer the potentially game-winning question in the entertainment category.
Marnie clears her throat. “Where was the first season of Survivor filmed?”
They whisper back and forth, nodding when they reach a conclusion. “Borneo,” Linny answers confidently.
“Correct,” Marnie says, flipping around the question card to reveal the answer on the back.
Linny and Parker jump up at the same time in celebration. She lets out a shriek and throws her arms around his neck, practically tackling him to the ground in the process.
Marnie leans over to me again, scooting closer until we are both on the same couch cushion, lowering her head and voice. “What’s their deal? Are they together?”
I close the final inches between us, hovering over the shell of her ear. I feel her shudder beside me.
Her lavender perfume invades my senses, making me slightly dizzy. That, coupled with her thigh now resting against mine, sends heat shooting all throughout my body.
“If you ask me, they are in denial.”
“How so?”
“They’ve been dancing around each other since we were kids.
I think there has always been something between them, but they are either too oblivious to see it or too stubborn to act on it.
I’ve never brought it up to them because I didn’t want to make it awkward, but I hope they would feel comfortable telling me if something was going on between them. ”
“We need to all hang out again,” Linny chimes in, stacking the question cards back into their boxes. “This was a lot of fun.”
“Marnie said she might come jump off the Jaws Bridge with us in a few weeks.”
Her head whips up to face me. “Might,” she emphasizes. “I never actually agreed.”
Will, my expression taunts.
We stay cozied up against each other for a while, still sharing the couch cushion, neither of us attempting to separate ourselves.
Her legs against mine, our fingers inches apart, falling into casual conversation with the group.
More glasses of wine are poured, and Parker and I switch to beers as the night winds down.
The girls finish their last glass at the same time, and Marnie sits up to gather them in her arms along with a few other empty dishes.
“Marnie, no, you’re our guest,” Linny objects. “Parker is on dish duty, right?” She glances over at him, a mischievous look on her face.
Parker sighs and starts to get up, but Marnie is faster. “Really, I don’t mind. It’s the least I can do to thank you for welcoming me into your home and letting me be a part of game night.”
Linny begins to protest, but Marnie races into the kitchen before she can get another word out, holding my gaze until she rounds the corner.
I gather the remaining plates and beer bottles, then follow Marnie to the kitchen. She’s just finished drying the veggie platter and is reaching on her tip toes for the shelf with the other trays. Her body contorts to reach the cabinet, but she’s coming up just short.
I chuckle to myself and take pity on her, coming up behind her and gently taking the tray from her hand, easily returning it to its slot amongst the other trays.
She slides down from where she’s leaning on the counter, accidentally rubbing against the front of my jeans in the process. I stifle a groan and spin her around right there to hold her against the counter, arms bracketing her hips, pinning her in place.
My mouth is inches from hers, our lips toeing a dangerous line.
Every part of her consumes me. The sweet scent of her perfume, the wine on her breath.
She doesn’t move, instead tilting her head back a fraction of an inch.
A rosy, pink blush stains her cheeks, and the alcohol flowing through my system emboldens me.
“I really want to kiss you right now,” I admit.
Her head cocks to the side, egging me on. “What about us agreeing to keep things professional?”
“I don’t see anyone from the office here.” I lean in a fraction of an inch, waiting for her to meet me the rest of the way. “But if that’s what you’re concerned about,” I lower my voice, “I’ll show you just how professional I can be.”
Marnie’s lips part, and for a split second, I think she’s going to close the remaining distance. But she hesitates, then starts to pull back. “I should get going,” she says in a low voice, avoiding eye contact.
“Okay,” I yield, trying my hardest not to let my disappointment show. “Let me at least walk you out.”
I follow her to the front of the house, watching her gather her purse from the hook and slip on her shoes. I step around her while she slides the last one on and I hold the door open as she walks through.
She stops on the threshold and turns to face me, breath catching when she realizes how close we are standing again. I watch as her eyes drop down to my lips, before slowly trailing back up my face to my eyes. Something about her expression makes me think that maybe she’s considering it.
Then, she takes a quiet step back. “I’ll see you tomorrow. For work,” she clarifies, amusement sparkling in her eyes.
She spins on her heel and heads to her car without another word. I remain there on the threshold while she drives off into the night, her taillights growing fainter until they disappear entirely when she turns the corner.