He grabbed a pen and paper and leaned over.
“Now.” He drew two stick figures.
“Uh.” I laughed nervously and looked around. “If you’re going to show me how babies are made, just don’t. Please, don’t. I’m not a virgin.”
“Aha!” Max lifted the pen into the air. “But she is, therefore, diagram. Observe.” He started scribbling X’s and then O’s and then arrows pointing to different parts. To be honest it looked a hell of a lot like a football play.
“So, you start here.” He circled her head.
“I decapitate her? Good plan, Max. Solid.”
“Um, no.” Max rolled his eyes like I was the one losing my sanity. “You kiss her, you have to start slow as to not scare her off, then you slowly, and I do mean slowly, move south.” He drew an arrow down.
“Max—”
“Once you reach this region.” He circled one stick figure’s, well, um, stick body. “You need to be sure not to pressure her, I think the—”
“Whatcha guys doing?” Milo asked from behind me.
Freaked out, I did the only thing I could think of doing. I threw my cake into Max’s face and laughed. “You lose!”
“What game were you playing?” Milo asked, laughing.
“Yes,” Max said, as bits of red velvet crumbled off his face, leaving a smear of bright white icing clinging to his cheek. “I’m dying to know.”
“Tic-tac-toe. I won.”
“So you threw cake in his face?” Milo started wiping it off of Max while he glared.
“Yeah, well.” I sniffled. “He kept saying I didn’t know the rules to the game, and I do. Like the back of my freaking hand. I know exactly where those X’s go, where the O’s need to be. Hell, call me Mr. Tic. Tac. Toe.”
“Lies,” Max spit. “Your O’s are going to be all over the place! And all because you didn’t pay attention to the X’s!”
“Damn you and your X’s!” I thrust my finger into his face. “I’ll prove it once and for all!”
“Oh, yeah, HOW?” Max shouted.
“Game! Right here! Right now!”
It was then that I realized exactly what I’d said.
Max blushed. “Dude, I don’t play . . . that way.”
Milo, probably wanting to help, said, “Guys, it’s okay. I mean, if you need a judge, I can sit here and watch.”
“No!” we shouted in unison.
Max blushed. “It’s not for . . . viewing pleasure.”
“Because that would be . . .” I looked heavenward. “Against the, uh . . . wrong.”
Milo looked between us. “You guys take games way too seriously.”
Max gave Milo a smug grin. “Only the best ones do, my love.”
“Hands off,” I growled, pushing him out of the way. “Come on, Milo, it’s time to play.”
“Oooh!” She jumped up and down. “Are we going to arm-wrestle or play a board game or something?”
“Sure.” I snickered. “Or something. See ya later, Max.”
“At least remember the diagram!” he yelled.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
MILO
I fought to keep up with Colton’s ridiculous pace. “Um, hey, psychopath, where are we going? There are guests who—”
His lips crushed against mine. Guests, what guests? Tongue . . . was that his? I moaned as he pulled me into his arms, his mouth hot and urgent.
“Screw the guests, you’re coming with me.”
Had he not been holding me up I would have swayed on my feet. “And we’re going where, exactly? To hide in Max’s car?”
He paused as if the idea had merit, then shook his head. “Stupid diagram.”
“For tic-tac-toe?” I gripped his hand. “Colt, if you suck that bad I can help you.”
He groaned.
“No, really!”
More groaning and cursing.
“I totally went on Google last time I played and found out all the tricks!”
“Please don’t say tricks.” He bit down hard on his lip and nearly made me pass out from the heat of his lustful glare. “Let’s go.”
And we were back to running through the neighbors’ backyards.
Until we got to his house.
“Colt.” The pool cover was off. Memories of that night plagued me, made me want to turn and run in the other direction. Jason’s sister, Jason’s sister. “What are we doing?” Was he going to reject me again? Was he regretting the fact that we went through that entire ceremony in front of everyone? Holy crap! I was going to have been married for less than three hours!
I needed to sit.
“Milo.” Colton started pulling at his tie, then his jacket. Clothes fluttered to the ground in a flurry. “We’re going swimming.”
“Now?” I hissed. “Colt, we have like a hundred people back at the house, Jason may die if he closes his eye, Reid asked how tall our roof was just in case he needed to jump, and Max told my mom he used to be a gigolo. I think we have enough stress in our lives without—”
Oh, dear Lord.
His boxers fell all the way to the ground.
All the way.
To.
The.
Ground.
God bless the USA.
Would standing up and doing the Pledge of Allegiance throw the mood off? Because I was suddenly so very thankful for that New York–born man.