Chapter 27 #2
Well, at least until I catch sight of Pete’s disgusted sneer as we part, which sends icy shards skittering up my spine.
“And now, ladies and gents, we see why she picked the cop. Moving swiftly on… who said I love you first?”
Well, fuck. What a question to answer straight off the back of the very real reminder about why I don’t do love sneering at me like a troll.
How am I supposed to answer this?
Swayze huffs out a laugh beside me as Mario counts down.
“Three.”
Oh god.
“Two,”
Fuck it. It’s a fifty-fifty shot.
“One,”
“Swayze.”
“Me.” He grins at me ruefully, the smile not quite reaching his eyes.
“Ding ding ding, another winner! Kiss, you lovesick fools.”
I lean over, kissing him this time, but it stays brief. He doesn’t try any funny business, his tongue staying firmly in his mouth.
Is he annoyed with me?
Surely he knows I don’t really expect him to fall in love with me, if that’s what he’s worrying about. I’m not that stupid.
I’m so lost in my own thoughts, I barely register the other two teams’ responses.
Apparently, avoidance runs in my family. Layla was the one to say it first to Nick. What a dumbass.
“Okay, good job. Now what’s your amore’s biggest tell? Let us into those little dark secrets…” Maz wiggles his brows.
“My girl deflects everything with humor.” Swayze rumbles out beside me.
Wow, way to put me on blast dude. Besides, what’s wrong with that? Laughing is far preferable to crying, thank you very much.
“Mia, what about your man’s?”
Glancing over at him, his handsome face splits into a wide grin when he catches me staring.
He actually has a few tells, depending on the situation, but I’ll go with the most obvious. The one I know best, considering how many times I piss him off on any given day.
“His jaw ticks. It happens when he’s furious or horny, or both together when he’s in the mood to hate fuck.” I can’t stop the smile creeping in when I watch him arch a brow.
He chuckles, turning to Mario and tilting his head my way. “See? Classic deflection.”
“Hmmmmm.” Mario twiddles an imaginary mustache while he stands there, loving the MC spotlight like the attention whore he is.
“Well, that leads us perfectly onto our next and final question. What’s your partner’s biggest fear? Spiders? Sharks? The eternal emptiness of a superficial life? Let’s go.” The smile slips from Mario’s face for the briefest moment before he turns it up to eleven.
Well, that took a turn. Did he just confess to the class that he’s lonely? But he’s the party personified. Always has been.
What the…?
Nick interrupts my train of thought by announcing Layla’s biggest fear is a sock outside the hamper, spurring a mini lovers’ spat. She retorts that Nick’s is a sex ban that he might face real soon—which, fair.
Mom’s biggest fear is anything happening to her family. Dad’s is anything happening to Mom because we’re apparently chopped liver to him.
Swayze coughs, dragging my attention back to him.
“You wanna go first, Angel?”
Not really. Nope.
I guess the sooner I do this, the sooner we get it over with, right? And I’m so ready to get back to the room and be done people-ing for the day.
All of a sudden, my shoulders sag, the beginnings of a tension headache flirting with my temples. I rub the back of my neck, mulling over my answer. I think I prefer having to hear about my parents’ sex life instead of this bullshit. It’s getting a little too heavy now.
“Wolfie’s biggest fear is running out of Post-it notes. They’re his favorite mode of communication.”
A rueful smile flits across his lips before he turns to our family, nodding.
“She’s right, those little yellow squares run my entire life. I’d be lost without them.” Shooting me a loaded, pointed look, he reaches over to entwine our fingers. “My girl’s biggest fear is…” He squeezes my hand while scanning my face.
What’s he gonna throw out there? Probably spiders. He still laughs about the time I thought a knotted-up tangle of my own hair was a huge spider crawling on the sofa and practically launched myself onto his lap.
“Not being enough. That she’ll never be enough.”
My skin prickles. It’s too tight. Breaking eye contact, I tug my hand out from under his, hiding the slight tremor by picking up my drink. I need to do something, because everyone’s full attention is on us—namely me—right now.
If I was mentally drained by the last round, this one’s like full-on mental warfare.
Why did he just say that? I’ve never said anything remotely like that to him. Hell, I spend my life trying to avoid thinking about it.
No one knows that about me.
No one sees me that way.
He sees you.
Swayze’s hand slides up my thigh, his touch both maddening and somehow soothing all at once.
“That’s where she’s wrong, though. She’ll always be enough—she’s everything, and I intend to spend my life reminding her of that.”
You hear that crack? No, it’s not thunder—it’s a direct hit to my stone-dead heart.
Is he faking this?
My eyes snap back to his and he holds my gaze, his face open, honest. I open my mouth, ready to deliver a witty one-liner, a denial—that river in Egypt might be handy—anything to stop the weird electric tension whirling around us, but I’ve got nothing.
Fuck.
A loud wail—very cat-like—interrupts the silence, Swayze’s mic drop moment broken.
“Ohhhh, my baby. I’m so happy you’ve finally got a man who deserves you. Who sees you for the amazing woman you are.”
A sniffle is all the warning I get before Mom appears in front of us and throws herself—we’re talking full-on football tackle here—between us, crying and smothering our cheeks in kisses. Moist ones.
Sorry, sorry, I hate that word too.
Because I haven’t been embarrassed enough already, apparently.
Thank fuck tomorrow is a free use day—no, not like that.
Nick isn’t hosting an orgy. It means we have the whole day to do what we want, and I intend to spend it not people-ing.
And if I get the room to myself, I’ll apply Mom’s stress relief methods and review some of those toys because right now, the tension thrumming through me is bordering on unbearable.
So are my mom’s wails, which only stop when she starts whispering into Swayze’s ear.
God. No more plotting, please.
Apparently, god decided to listen to me today because all of a sudden, the sky splits open and sheets of rain hammer down on us.
We’re talking torrential. I look like I’ve done the ice bucket challenge and my white sundress was not a vibe for this weather.
I might as well be standing here in my underwear.
At least it’s a matching lacy set and not the Spanx I almost wrestled on.
Thank fuck I decided I don’t hate myself enough to deal with that torture today.
Swayze realizes I’m practically naked at the same moment I do, his eyes widening in alarm as he springs to his feet and offers me a hand. Mom goes running back to Dad as everyone hurries to gather their shit and run back to their rooms.
“Raincheck on announcing the ultimate Mr. & Mrs. people! Literal raincheck,” Mario shouts as he strips his shirt off, holding his hands out and tipping his face to the sky. My cousin might actually be insane.
“You got everything?” Swayze’s gruff tone interjects and I glance down, making sure I have my purse.
I hold it over my drink and at my nod, he sweeps me up in his arms and runs back to our room.
“Hey, I’m heavy. Put me down. I can walk, Wolff.”
He shoots me a glare, ignoring me. His hair is so wet, the wavy strands are half covering his eyes, so I do the girlfriend thing and sweep it off his face.
“Thanks. And I know you can walk, but this is faster, and that way no one else can look at…”
He trails off, his eyes dropping to my bra before looking away.
Before I can respond, we get to our bedroom door, but instead of relief, a bolt of tension has Swayze standing up straight. His chest broadens to its full size, every muscle in his back rigidly shifting as if he’s a Transformer unfurling and clicking into place.
Fuck me, that’s hot.
“No,” he snarls—yep, snarls.
H.O.T.
Well, at least, until I turn to follow his line of sight to the bedroom door next to ours.
Ice freezes my veins when my brain stops lusting after Swayze’s muscles enough to compute what it’s looking at.
The fucking toad is in the room next door. Are you serious right now?
He’s standing there, cursing at the key card which doesn’t seem to be working. My cousin tries to take it off him but he snatches it back with a glare.
Yep, don’t miss his vile attitude. Not one bit.
Meanwhile, Swayze adjusts his hold on me, balancing me effortlessly with one arm while grabbing the keycard with the other. The tick in his jaw is working overtime, every muscle in his back coiled tight as he unlocks our door with a click.
The noise alerts Pete, who whirls around, his eyes widening and filling with disgust.
“You’re in there?” he sneers, his gaze lingering on my sodden dress and visible bra, and instantly my skin crawls.
“Still need the spotlight? Figures, you always did like putting on a show.”
Swayze eases me to my feet before taking a step towards him.
I grab him by the shirt, halting him before he can get close enough to rearrange the fucker’s face—not undeserved.
“Atta girl. Leash your dog. I don’t want to catch fleas.”
I snap around to face him, watching his eyes drop to my bra again. Oh hell no, this time, I’m not going to cower.
“It’s difficult to catch fleas when you’re already one.” Tipping my chin up, I brace my hands on my hips. “Enjoy the show all you want, Peter. Unlike you, my Wolff knows exactly how to handle me when the curtain closes.”
Swayze chuckles, despite his visible tension, and slides his arms around my waist planting a kiss to the crown of my head.
Pete scoffs, his face reddening, all thoughts of unlocking his door forgotten. His hostile gaze stays locked on us, totally oblivious to his girlfriend shivering in the rain.
I spin on my heel, walking into our room, but can’t help a teeny tiny parting shot. “We’ll try to keep the noise down. No promises, though. I love to make him howl.”