“Yeah, that part I get.” I point to myself. “I’m a basketball player, so yeah. Hook shot, but what’s the game?”
Vale approaches, her Icelandic blue eyes cool and smiling when she proffers a leather bag.
“Pull,” she says with an encouraging nod.
“Pull?” I ask, still wondering what the hell is going on.
“Yes.” Her tone is patient and she shakes the little bag. “It’s a drinking game.”
Even more lost.
“So,” she continues, slowing her words, like that might help me, “you pull your icon.”
“Icon?”
Now I feel stupid. Every answer she gives me spawns another question.
“Pull,” she repeats, and at least she’s laughing. “And I’ll show you.”
I reach into the leather bag and feel several smaller silky bags. I grab one and look at her for what’s next.
“Open, but don’t show.” She offers the bag to Amanda, who does the same.
There’s a small boot in my bag.
“It’s a boot,” I say.
“Shhhh!” Vale hisses and laughs even more. “It’s a secret.”
Several people didn’t get the memo because when I glance over to Lotus’s crew, she’s comparing hers with Billie’s and Yari’s. Hers is a button she shoves quickly back into the bag.
“Someone else has the same icon as yours,” Vale explains. “You will both take a shot of tequila. That’s the ‘shot.’ And you kiss the person who has the same item you pulled. Like a hook-up. Hook Shot, but you don’t actually hook-up. It can be a quick kiss.”
She laughs, waggling her brows suggestively. “But it’s more fun when it’s not.”
“Kiss?” I huff a fuck that laugh.
“It’s like Spin the Bottle,” Amanda adds with a shrug. “Like you played in high school, but . . . older and with better kissing.”
Dammit, Banner, you owe me big time.
“Nah.” I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
“But it’s zee game,” Vale says, dismayed. “In your honor. Hook Shot is a real game. We did not make it up. Just added fashion.”
“It can be zee game all it wants,” I tell her, grinning to soften the absolute truth that I’m not interested. “I’m not playing.”
Games always have me doing stupid shit, and then when I resist doing stupid shit, I look difficult.
“It’s fun, right?” JP asks when he walks up. “Hook Shot. Get it?”
I don’t want to kiss him or Chase or whomever has the other boot. The only person I’d want to kiss has a button. And I’m tired of watching Chase run after her all night. Even now he’s caressing Lotus’s bare arm and sliding his hand down her back as low as it can decently go without grabbing her ass. He’s agitating me.
“No one has to kiss. Only those who want,” JP says, leaning forward and inviting me to laugh with him. “Some like to watch.”
“Yeah, JP, I think I’m gonna. . .” I stop when I see what he clutches loosely in his hand.
Maybe this night is salvageable.