“So. Tell me more about this game.” I turned around, candy working in my mouth while I leaned on the long dresser and gripped the edges.
“It’s more fun than Scrabble,” I grinned. “And everybody also wins.”
“Let’s play.”
Oh, yes…let’s.
“Alright. Bet. I’ll even let you go first, Viper.” This isn’t gonna take long. We’re both already ahead of the game as far as what’s left to take off. I’m in loose black sweats and a white tee. “Make your move.” I’m wondering about her most pressing questions. If they’re anything like mine. But my money’s on her starting with the little things and I’m completely fine with that. I plan on answering honestly…and I’m hoping she’s got secrets she wants to keep, so that I can take my time dragging them out of her while she comes on my face again.
“What’s your favorite color?”
Right on cue. Fuck, I love this game.
“Startin’ out light, aren’t ya, pet?” I grinned, twirling my lollipop. “It’s blue. But my favorite is Bombay Blue. It was a paint color my Ma chose for my room as a kid. Guess it’s um…sentimental.”
“Hmm…never pegged you for a sentimental guy.”
I winked. “I’m full of surprises. What’s yours? Don’t say black. I know it’s bullshit.”
“It’s actually not. I’m a sucker for anything green.”
That clicked all of a sudden and I paused my gnawing on the stick, cocking my head. “That’swhy your coffin is green on the inside.” She smiled at me, winking back. “Interesting.” I crossed one foot over the other. “‘Kay. Of all your tattoos…which one’s your favorite?”
“Oh, easy.” She pulled her left foot from underneath her and stuck it out towards me, pointing her toes at the ceiling. I dunno how I missed the tiny mass of squiggles tattooed in the arch of her foot. “This one.”
“What in the fuck is that?” I laughed.
“It’s a squished bug. I did it myself when I was sixteen. Stick and poke.” I barked a laugh while she held her foot with her hand and tried to convince me the shit actually looked like a bug. “Shut up, fool. I never said I was artistic.” I palmed my face, running a hand through my hair and couldn’t stop giggling at her. “Oh, my God…enough. Tell me yours.”
I tugged the neck of my shirt down a bit and gave her the left side of my neck, pointing at some script. “That one. I like the placement, but the quote is what’s special about it.” Seven leaned up, peering at it and reading it aloud.
“Divinity is not ours…” She eased back. “I actually love that. What’s it from?”
“My brilliant mind,” I smirked. “That one I had done about seven years ago. I went through some shit.”
There was a tense silence between us, and I knew that just lifted the latch on the gate to more serious questions. I can see it stirring in her eyes. “What was her name?”There it is.I stared into her for a minute and then dropped my eyes to the floor.
“Shavonn.”
“What happened to her?”
The lollipop stilled, and closing my eyes, I saw a brief image of an angel in a box. I half wondered about all the ways Sev would have taken care of her and didn’t realize that it brought a small smile to my face while I glued it to the floor.
“She died.” Call me a coward. The silence is enough without having to face whatever pity or regret is in the eyes I know aren’t Shavonn’s. I don’t want her to feel any type of way about the question I know has been burning a hole through her mind. She asked, and I answered. It’s over with. “My turn.”
“Y-yeah.”
I pushed slowly off the dresser and raised my head, making a slow break for where she sat on the bed, that legstill extended and those eyes pinned on me while I smirked. I climbed onto it, into her personal space and she leaned backward until I’d successfully trapped her between both arms. “The night I met you…did you leave my house with your pussy wet?”
Got her.
Her throat bobbed and I know she knows she’s fucked with this one. Because she can try to lie all she wants and keep her clothes on, but we both fucking know better. Her lips pursed and I wondered if she’d actually answer, but…
She reached down between us, crossing her arms and pulling her shirt up. I made room for her to drag it up and over her head, and then it hit the wooden floor. My dimple is showing. I can feel it. She looks defeated, and damn near pissed about it. This is the first time I’ve ever seen her bare chest. The only word that keeps crawling through my mind, other than ‘flawless’?
Mine.
She’s a fucking priceless canvas of quotes, death, roses and squished bugs. And I think I’m way past falling for her—I’m pretty sure I’ve hit the fucking bottom. She broke me out of my deep revelation, reaching up to take the lolli out of my mouth and stick it in her own. The face she made nearly sent me laughing myself off the edge of the bed.
