Ex Games

“I’m not desperate. Just horny as fuck.” She flicked her eyes at Sloane and smirked. “Sorry for the language.”

Sloane laughed it off nervously, but her telltale lash flutter meant that she was rustled. Emily clapped loudly.

r /> “Well, that settles it. We need to invite Jake to our next event,” she declared. “Oh! Lara, darling, I didn’t even ask you. How did he look today at lunch? Beautiful?”

All three girls stared at me, waiting for an answer. I swallowed, trying to find a mild way to describe him. “He’s a good-looking guy,” I finally shrugged with a laugh. “Tall, tanned. Muscles. Any woman would go for him.”

Piper slid her empty glass over for me to refill. “What about you?” she lifted a skinny eyebrow. I managed a smile, silently jeering myself for what I was about to say.

“Oh, I don’t count. He’s my fiancé’s brother,” I said.

Chapter Sixteen

I awoke that night to the sound of glass shattering in the kitchen.

I jolted up in bed, instantly breaking into a cold sweat. My arm reached to wake Jackson but all I got was a handful of cold sheets on his side of the mattress. Shit. My eyes darted to the clock on his nightstand. Two-fifteen in the morning and I was home alone, an unidentified noise flashing me back to the night I’d come back from Sofie’s party to find a strange man in my room. After all, the police had never found him. Perhaps he was back for more – back to make sure I didn’t remember what he looked like. Please, please, please, I prayed as I slipped out the bed, hoping to God that I had just imagined the sound. I was looking around my room for a heavy object when I heard a drunk, gravelly voice.

“Fuck, that’s gonna hurt tomorrow.”

My jaw clenched.

Jackson. My fingers balled into fists at my sides as I abandoned my search for a weapon and stormed downstairs, ready to snap at him for scaring the shit out of me. Our home had been broken into just eight weeks ago. My heart still wasn’t ready for other bumps in the night. My pulse racing, I rushed into the kitchen.

“Jackson. What the hell just hap – ”

I stopped midsentence when instead of Jackson, I saw Jake standing there, leaning casually against the counter. He wore the same white shirt as before but now it was half unbuttoned, a hard line of muscle peeking out. I froze, unblinking as I watched his glassy eyes slide down from my face to my body. Only then did I realize I was wearing my sheer nightgown – a flimsy, black thing that ended just below my crotch. Clearly drunk, Jake let himself stare at me for several silent seconds. “God fucking help me,” he finally muttered, laughing bitterly to himself.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and keeping my distance. He laughed but before he could say a word, Jackson stumbled out of the bathroom.

“Babe! You’re up!” he cheered jovially. I realized then that he was somewhere between hammered and blackout drunk because under normal circumstances, he’d put on a face a shame and show some kind of respect for my wrath. Instead, he held out his arms for me to walk into, completely oblivious to my mood. “Get the fuck over here, sexy. Whoa, hey, wait. Jake’s here,” he said as if that weren’t totally obvious. “You can’t walk around like that.”

I stared, in disbelief of the situation. “Or I’ll just go back to bed. Just make sure you don’t break any more glasses.”

“No, come here and have a nightcap with us, babe.”

“I don’t think you need a nightcap, Jackson,” I said. As he bent over to pick up a shard of glass from the floor, I let my eyes snap back at Jake. He seemed to detect it because his gaze returned leisurely from my body to my face. I knew I was visibly fuming and it only got worse when he dared to crack a dirty little smile. What the fuck.

“I’m going upstairs, Jackson.”

“Babe, wait.”

I turned back around as Jackson wobbled on his feet.

“Jake needs something to sleep in, can you get him one of my T-shirts?”

I stared at Jackson for a hard second before turning back around. “Fine.”

I was barely up the stairs when I heard Jackson plod over to the sitting room, throw his body onto the couch and pass out. Within seconds, he was snoring the way he only did when completely obliterated. I paused in the hall, listening for Jake. My stomach twisted ten seconds later when I heard his footsteps coming up the stairs.

Hastily, I made my way down the hall. But I heard Jake’s voice before I made it to the bedroom.

“Lara.”

I turned rigidly, trying not to visibly tremble as I watched him come toward me, his stride steady, strong despite his drunkenness. My eyes fluttered to disguise the fact that they’d traveled briefly down to the front of his shirt, its cotton straining to fit across his muscled chest.

“I’m going to get you some clothes,” I murmured when he reached me, nervous and unsure of what to say. His gaze floated down to my hair, which I’d fanned over my breasts. “Don’t,” I murmured warningly.

He brought his reluctant eyes back to me, running a heavy hand over his jaw. “Trust me. I don’t want to find you this fucking irresistible.”