Rules of Play (The Script Club 2)

“It probably feels good. Pleasure seems to be the main motivator for humans as far as I can tell. I can’t say. I’ve never screwed a plastic doll. But to each his own. Want another beer?” I asked, gesturing to his empty glass.

“Uh…no, thanks. I’m already a little tipsy.”

I signaled for our check and handed over my credit card, waving aside his attempt to contribute. “Put your wallet away. Your money’s no good here.”

He set his hand over mine and smiled. “Thank you, Aiden.”

“You’re welcome.”

We held eye contact for a long moment. And call me crazy, but it felt…poignant, like a quiet acknowledgment that we were in the midst of forging a new alliance of sorts.

George was my best friend’s brother, someone who’d always been in the background. He was front and center right now. He took up space and seemingly blocked out sensory input. That had to be why everyone and everything around us faded. I stared at his lower lip and licked mine in a kind of trance.

Thankfully, the bartender returned with my card, pulling me from my reverie.

I signed the receipt with a flourish and pushed away from the bar, snapping the cape and flipping one end across my shoulder before letting out an evil laugh like a vampire from a corny old movie.

“Mwahaha. We shall see. Come, Earthling. The night awaits.”

He shook his head, smiling when he met me on the sidewalk. “No, no, no. You’re confusing your genres. Vampires and aliens don’t mix.”

“Says whom?”

“Who,” I corrected.

I pulled him to my side, wrapped my hand around his neck, and gave him a noogie, chuckling when he swatted me away. I let go for a moment, then draped my arm over his shoulders companionably. Like an old friend…or a lover.

Whoa. What the fuck was wrong with me tonight?

I blinked wildly and hit my internal reset button. We were old friends. So what if he was standing closer than necessary? So what if I liked it? And so what if he was looking at me like—

“You’re looking at me funny.”

“How so?”

He stepped aside, swiping his palms on his khakis while I unlocked the passenger side door and held it open for him.

When he swayed into my space, I braced my hand on the truck to steady us. But I didn’t let go, and he didn’t seem bothered. In fact, he seemed mesmerized.

“You look like you’re gonna kiss me or something.”

He narrowed his gaze. “I was just thinking the same thing about you. But I may have misread your sultry gaze.”

“Sultry?” I sputtered.

George snickered. “Relax. I’m just joshin’ with you.”

“Yeah. Ha. I know, I know. It’s just…”

I went quiet again. A breeze whistled along the mostly deserted street, blowing his hair into his eyes. I lifted my hand as if to push it away just as he splayed his palm on my chest, leaned in, and sealed his lips to mine.

I froze.

We both did.

I held my breath for as long as possible, just drinking him in.

Holy fuck.

I wasn’t sure how we got here, but damn, this was good.

Very good.

His lips were soft, and his end-of-day scruff felt nice against my beard. I didn’t dare move. Any second now, this would end. Knowing me, I’d tell a joke and jump at an excuse to make this okay. Something silly, like too much beer and too little food. Untrue, but he’d go along with it. We’d laugh and move on.

However, it was hard to think that far in advance with my heartbeat reverberating in my ears and my pulse racing out of control. I was out of my depth. But I wanted more.

I tilted my chin slightly and molded my mouth to his, growling hungrily when George swept his tongue inside, sliding it alongside mine in a languid motion that made my toes curl in my boots. We nipped, licked tentatively…once, then twice, before deepening the connection. I sucked on his bottom lip and tasted him again and again.

Until we broke for air, staring at each other in a daze.

“Wow.”

“Um…what happened? I think I’m…beer. Beer happened,” he blurted, inhaling a lungful of oxygen.

“Right. Beer happened.” I untied the cape from my neck and draped it over his shoulders. “I’m pretty sure you only had two.”

“Must have been strong beer.” He pulled the fabric across his body like a shield. “You should have let me buy my own. I would have ordered the cheap stuff you have to drink by the barrel to feel buzzed.”

I squinted in the dark. “So…you’re drunk?”

“Wasted. Absolutely schnockered,” he confirmed vehemently. “But not as bad as I’d be if I’d consumed vodka.”

“Vodka is bad news, eh?”

“Oh, yeah. Everyone knows I’m a slut when I drink vodka.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Well, now you do. Not that it matters, ’cause it didn’t happen. Beer happened.”

“Right.” I nodded, pursing my lips to keep my smile from spreading too fast, then blinked when he waved a hand in front of my face like a mad fortune-teller. “What are you doing?”