Page 82 of Deadly Secrets

“Do you know how many times they mention his name? No. We can’t choose Kevin, or we’ll end up in the ER department with alcohol poisoning,” Ander exclaimed.

He was right. We’d watched Home Alone 2 over a hundred times as kids, and there was no way we would listen to Maggie’s suggestions.

“I have an idea,” I interrupted. “I suggest we take a shot every time someone says New York. It’s fitting, don’t you think?”

We were camped in Zayn’s room. Maggie sat on a gray bean bag while the guys lounged on the bed, surrounded by countless pillows and popcorn bags nestled between their legs. I laid on the bed on my side, supporting my head with my hand and keeping a dark gray throw blanket covering my legs. Zayn’s room was slightly smaller than Ander’s, but the decor was entirely different. Ander’s aesthetic was preppier, with blues and grays dominating the color scheme, whereas Zayn’s room exuded a dark, enigmatic, and sexier vibe. The walls were covered with posters featuring some of his favorite groups, such as Thirty Seconds to Mars, My Chemical Romance, Korn, Fall Out Boy, and Good Charlotte. A king-size bed with an iron frame and white bed sheets sat in the middle of the room. Books and vinyl records were scattered across the floor, and another black bean bag occupied a corner. On the opposite side of the room were shelves loaded with trophies, presumably earned during his time competing in jujitsu. Next to Maggie, who had declared herself the referee, was a tray with tequila, lemon, and salt.

Four hours and two movies later, we were officially drunk.

Maggie had fallen asleep on the floor braced to a fluffy pillow, and judging by Ander’s deep breathing in my lap, he was out cold, too. He had this peaceful expression on his face, and I couldn’t help but feel the temptation to trace the lines of his nose, jaw, and lips with my fingers. However, I refrained from doing so just in case Noah and Zayn read too much into the situation.

“Do you think we should wake him up?” I asked the boys. I didn’t want to disrupt his sleep, but it was already three o’clock in the morning, and I knew he had planned to wake up early the following day.

“We should also wake Maggie up.” Zayn stood and knelt before her. “She’s going to complain about her back tomorrow if we let her sleep on the floor. I mean, the rug is comfortable, but not that much.” He nudged her. “Wake up and go to bed, blondie.”

Suddenly, Maggie jumped from the floor and knocked Zayn down, causing Ander to jolt up from my lap at the sound of Zayn’s yelp.

“Don’t touch me!” Maggie screamed.

“Jesus…Maggie, it’s alright. It’s me, Zayn.” Zayn spoke gently to reassure her.

Maggie glanced around, and a faint blush tinted her cheeks. Her sudden reaction embarrassed her, but I knew why she had reacted that way. Zayn didn’t.

“Sorry, Zayn. I was having a nightmare,” Maggie apologized.

Zayn nervously rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, avoiding Maggie’s gaze as he looked at the wall.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry if I scared you,” he apologized.

Ander broke the awkwardness and yawned.

“I think I’m going to bed,” he announced. He stretched his arms, turned to Zayn, and asked, “Court, nine o’clock?” Zayn nodded. “Are you going to bed, Sienna?”

“I think I’m going to stay and finish watching Last Christmas with the guys,” I responded. I’ve been a fan of Emilia Clarke since the premiere of Game of Thrones, so as soon as the movie was released, it immediately found its place on the Christmathon list.

“I’m going to bed too. Good night, guys,” Maggie said as she approached the door.

Once Maggie and Ander retreated to their rooms, Zayn, Noah, and I returned to the bed and pulled the comforter over ourselves. I was sandwiched between them, with Zayn’s leg touching mine beneath the sheets and Noah’s fingers tracing circles on my right arm. My breathing picked up, but I blamed it on the alcohol.

“Do you think I’m more attractive than Henry Golding? He’s technically half Malaysian, not Japanese, but I’m curious where I stand on your beauty scale.”

I burst into laughter. That was one of the things I truly liked about Noah. His sense of humor and his knack for making random comments at the most unexpected moments were among my favorite things.

I shifted to look at him, and my gaze fell to his lips. He was undeniably handsome. Telling him he was better looking than Henry would only feed his already inflated ego. But I did it anyway.

“He has nothing on you. You’re one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen, Noah, and you have a killer body.”

Noah smiled, and my heart melted.

“One of them?” he retorted. “Who are the other ones?”

“Am I one of them?” Zayn asked.

“I’m not sure. Do you think you’ve earned that spot?” I joked.

Zayn swiftly turned toward me and began tickling my sides.

“Nooo, noooo, please, stop,” I pleaded, attempting to stifle my laughter as best as I could, not wanting to wake up the whole household. However, it became pretty challenging when Noah decided to join in, grabbing my wrists and aiding his friend in the playful torment. With all the tickling and fighting, Zayn ended up between my legs with both hands on each side of my head. I could feel my heart beating with such intensity that I thought it would come out of my chest.

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