“Sure. All you have to do is ask, Princess, and I’m all yours.”
My cheeks flushed. “I’m not—I wasn’t—Ugh!”
He shot me a sideways grin as he pulled two Xbox controllers out of a small wooden box tucked under the TV stand.
I slid my shoes off before collapsing on the couch.
Elliot tossed one and flopped down beside me.
“Alright, ready up. Let’s kill some zombies.”
He loaded into the game and instantly selected our go-to map—The Giant. Most of the other maps we played tended to be…completely chaotic and overwhelming.Originshad towering robots wreaking havoc on entire civilizations.Moonhad gravity-defying astronauts teleporting across the map. AndDer Eisendrache? That one had a damn dragon. ButThe Giantwas just classic, straightforward zombie survival.
Ha. Funny.
Never thought I’d describe anything zombie-related as straightforward. I leaned forward, perched on the edge of the couch, eyes glued to the screen. A gentle nudge against my knee made me blink, pulling my focus.
Elliot’s leg had barely brushed mine, but it was just enough to make me fall out of my trance.
My wrists went slack.
His veins stood out along his forearm, his bicep flexing with every press of the controller buttons.
I couldn’t stop staring. Saliva pooled in my mouth. I felt like some kind of feral dog. What was it about veins and strong arms that did this to me? My gaze trailed upward, locking onto his face, zeroing in on his lips. His tongue peeked out slightly as he concentrated, completely unaware of my spiraling thoughts.
Fuck.
I was in deep.
Then, the doorknob rattled. The hinges groaned. I jerked my head toward the sound just as Elliot’s controller hit the floor with a dull thud. We shot up from our seats, muscles tensed, just as the door swung open.
“Mom!” Elliot shouted, his posture becoming rigid as though he were encased in stone. “You’re back already?”
“Yeah,” his mother groaned as she jimmied her keys out of the doorknob. “Emmydecided her tutor looked too much like Donald Trump, so here we are…”
His sister plowed into the living room, leaving his mother standing outside, shoulders hunched as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
My mind raced to keep up with the flood of new faces.
The family resemblance between the three was unmistakable. His sister was slender, with wavy black hair and eyes that mirrored Elliot’s. His mother, on the other hand, had a sturdier build, strands of gray threading through her hair, and deep creases on her forehead probably related to raising Elliot day after day.
“He was a walking tangerine.”
“Emelia Oaklynn Keller, just because someone has a bad spray tan…” Her words faltered as she lifted her chin and her eyes connected with mine. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t know you had company.”
“Uh, yeah. Mom, this is Clarke. Clarke…my mom.”
I rubbed my upper arm while offering a quiet hello.
“Are you two…”
“Ye—”
“No!” Elliot cried, his words overlapping mine.
His mother’s eyes darted back and forth as she stared at us, her brows tightly pressed together.
I clenched my jaw, swallowing my words while my gaze remained locked on Elliot.
