Games We Play (Thistle Cove 2)

I tilt my head and lick my lips and thank god, he doesn’t waste another second before kissing me.

Obviously, we’ve kissed in front of one another before—that’s how all this started. But I’d surprised them that night. We were high and grieving. Up here we’re on a different kind of high—happiness—a moment of reprieve in the storm of our lives. I’m wearing a freaking tiara. It’s strangely powerful.

Ezra doesn’t hold back, his tongue is warm in my mouth, his body hard and pressed against mine. His fingers push into my hips and the need that’s been growing between us intensifies. Give us privacy and a room—a bed, a couch, even a floor--and I’ll be ready. There’s zero doubt he will be, too.

It’s that desire that makes me surprised when he releases me and looks over my head at the others. It’s not so much giving me permission to go to them—as an understanding. Together. It’s more than the two of us. It’s all of us.

Ezra’s fingers slip off my waist, but the warmth is replaced by another’s. Finn’s already there, already wrapping me in his arms, guiding me in a slow, confident dance. The crown still glints on his head.

“I didn’t know you could dance.”

He laughs. “Coach Chandler got it in his head that we needed to work on our coordination and balance. He signed us all up for a dance class last year.” Our fingers are clasped together, and he kisses the back of my hand. “It was kind of a disaster, but I walked away with a few skills.”

“Not surprising.” Yet, at the same time, he always surprises me. I thought I knew this boy so well, but there are shades of him that require looking under the surface. Finn’s greatest ability is his physicality. It’s intimidating but also incredibly sexy. He’s self-assured in his body, his movements. He knows how far he can run, how fast he can go, how hard of a hit he can take. I close my eyes and imagine that control, what he’d feel like over me, above me, in me.

“I wanted to tell you that standing on that stage with you and seeing them place that crown on your head, knowing that everyone else is aware of how amazing you are, ranks as one of the best moments of my life.”

Butterflies flutter in my belly. Finn has the ability to turn me into mush—but I don’t think he knows that.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to. I want to make up every moment we lost due to my stupid decisions.”

I touch his cheek. “I forgive you, you know.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Well, I do. Although this may be a challenge for you to reconcile, I know you’re not perfect. None of us are. Everything that happened over the last three years. I really do forgive you and I’m ready to fully put it past us.”

His arms tighten around me and he kisses me on the forehead. Without notice, he sends me off in a spin where Ozzy is waiting patiently for me. He links his arms around my waist, and mine move around his neck. We sway together.

“You guys did this together?” I say, taking in his smug smile.

“It was Finn’s idea to do something special. Ezra’s to get the car. Mine to use the balcony.”

I run my fingers through his hair, amused by the fact he’s not wearing a hat. “It’s perfect.”

“You deserve it.”

“I think after the last few months, we all deserve it.”

There’s a different sort of electricity that ebbs between us now. The knowledge of one another, of how our bodies work together, what it feels like to have him inside me. It brings out a hot desire—one that knows the outcome—the rush of euphoria. Like a drug, I’ll crave him until I have him again.

“Thank you for making the night special.” We’re barely moving. More standing than dancing. He pushes his hand into the back of my hair and bends, kissing me gently. My heart pounds erratically. The kiss stokes more than quells, and a ripple of understanding passes between us—we’ll take this up again later.

The music shifts, Ezra’s playlist used up and a thumping beat starts to vibrate through the gym. I smile over to the other boys. Ezra pushes off the wall and grabs Finn’s crown, placing it on his own head. Finn laughs and reaches for my hand, pulling me to his chest then releasing me, spinning me around. My skirt flares around me.

The party rages beneath us, but up above we celebrate, happy, alone, and together.

27

Kenley

The diner out on Route 128, outside the Thistle Cove city limits, has a big neon letters proclaiming "Pie Shack" in glowing red. It’s Sunday morning—before church gets out—which means the parking lot has spaces and no line.

I stand in front of the pie case, scanning the room. Janice Hill sits in the back, tucked in a booth. She’d sent me a message first thing this morning asking for me to meet her. I was half-asleep, still basking in the fun of the night before, but I could sense the urgency in her message.

I walk over and slide into the seat across from her. I almost jump when I see her. Normally, on screen and in person, Janice is a beautiful, well-kept woman. Hair never out of place. Make-up expertly applied. Today, she looks like hell.