Not My Match (The Game Changers 2)

“She’s meaner than a wet cat in a washing machine with a blowtorch,” Aunt Clara adds. “When she was fifteen, she stole a bottle of my mama’s whiskey, the twenty-three-year Pappy, no less, for a party with some kids and tried to blame me. It’s worth two grand now, but she wasted it with a bunch of teenagers.” She spits. “Blasphemy.”

“Nobody takes Nana’s whiskey but me and Elena! We inherited it!” I exclaim. Champagne has kicked in.

“Shush,” Mama says. “Neither of you should be drinking. Your nana was just a collector.”

We all look at her. Nana loved her whiskey. She nipped on it most evenings on her back porch with me and Elena at her feet while she told stories about the people in Daisy, every skeleton in this town.

I glance at Cami. She’s laughing up at Mike, her eyes lasered in on him. “Someone needs to bring her down a notch.”

“That’s the fighting spirit!” Mama says and drags me the rest of the way to where Mike is, maneuvering her way between him and Cami, muttering “Excuse me, dear,” then nudging Cami’s hand off Mike’s arm and replacing it with hers—like a claw.

A giggle erupts, and I stuff it down as I’m shoved in front of Cami. “Oops, sorry, new shoes,” I say, apologizing for stepping on Cami’s foot with my heel. I really didn’t mean to. Honest.

Cami rears back and gives me the once-over, her eyes low as she rakes hazel eyes over me. I know her snark is coming in . . . three, two, one . . . “Any warts, Giselle?”

“Just the one on your nose,” I say with a sweet smile.

She laughs, light and airy. “That’s all right; do your best, little cousin. I’ve already given him my phone number.” Obviously, she’s aware of Mama’s machinations.

“What cute hair. It looks so much better,” she tells me, a fake smile matching mine on her lips. “You march to your own drummer, don’t you? Nothing wrong with that, of course. I don’t care what anyone says—you’re attractive . . . in your own way.” She waves her hand around at the crowd. “Have to say, your mama knows how to throw a good party. I guess Elena brings in all the football players and hotties. You never could. Wasn’t your ex-fiancé one of her castoffs?”

Her comment has me glancing around. Aiden and Hollis are chatting at a table, heads bent as they devour chicken fingers and shrimp. Aiden looks up and blows me a kiss, and I grin. He points to the other side of the tent and mouths something, but I shrug, not catching on. He uses his fingers to send a message. Holding one index finger up straight, he curls his thumb and a finger from his other hand around it. D? Then he presses one hand together in a quack motion . . . like Pac-Man? Talk? What? I shake my head. He blows out a breath and rolls his eyes.

“Still a bit odd, aren’t you?” Cami says as I turn back to her.

“Yes. I’m awesome.”

“Weird. You’re weird.” Her gaze roams the people around us, snagging on someone behind me, a look of avarice growing on her face. Holy hot guys, I’ll take that one, her eyes say.

“When you get a chance, send me and Elena the money for the Pappy you stole.”

She laughs, the sound tinkling, eyeballs still on her target. “Keep dreaming, little cousin. Right now, there’s a sexy man looking at me.” She flicks a strand of bright-red hair over her shoulder and pushes her breasts out.

A prickling sensation dances over my skin, and only one person makes me feel that way. Stiffening, I gaze over the crowd, searching—

“And she remembers you too,” Mama’s voice comes from next to me, and I stop and look at her. “You wouldn’t believe how smart she is, a doctorate program at Vandy . . .”

“Giselle,” Mama says firmly and manhandles (womanhandles?) me in front of Mike. “Meet Mike. I think it’s been years since you’ve seen him.”

The boyish boy is gone, replaced by a devastatingly handsome man, his face leaner, harder, and chiseled, his hair swept back, deep-brown eyes peering at me over a glass of champagne.

I’m aware of Mama steering an unwilling, muttering Cami to the buffet table, and Mike smiles, a flash of white, perfect teeth. “Giselle, all grown up. The last time I saw you, you had braces, glasses, and hideous bangs.”

“You gave me those bangs after you tricked me and handcuffed me to the tree. Last time I saw you, there was a girl climbing out your bedroom window onto that tree.” I point to the huge elm that sits between his house and Mama’s. “She was pissed and yelling. You followed her out and kissed her, and then she went right back in your room.”