Page 142 of A Little Complicated

“No, she isn’t,” Reeves jokes. “And now that you mention it, I guess I meant both of them. Wanna tell me what it’s all about, Ophelia?”

I clear my throat and take another sip of my drink. “No comment.”

His eyes shine with amusement as he watches me. “Of course not.” When he realizes I’m not willing to spill the beans anytime soon, he scratches the scruff of his jaw and turns to my friends. “So, are you guys ready for your first Game Night?”

“Probably not,” Dylan mutters into her cup.

Finley elbows her in the ribs, adding, “She’s lying. We’re definitely ready. Bring it on.”

“You don’t like games, Dylan?” he asks.

She chokes on her drink, and Finley slaps her back as she coughs violently.

Surprised by her response, Reeves steps forward to help her. “You okay?”

“She’s fine,” Finley answers. “She isn’t used to guys talking to her.”

“Finley!” Dylan snaps.

“What? It’s true!”

“So help me, Finley, I will hide a frog in your bed if you keep talking,” Dylan threatens under her breath.

With a gasp, Finley clutches at her chest. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Dylan pastes a fake smile on and directs it to an eavesdropping Reeves while reaching for the back of Finley’s elbow and pinching. “Make ittwofrogs.”

Eyes wide, Finley gasps. “So help me——”

“You know I would,” Dylan seethes.

“Okay, okay.” Finley turns to Reeves and smiles. “I was lying. Dylan is totally used to talking to guys and isn’t acting weird right now. At. All.”

His mouth lifts with amusement as Reeves leans closer to the chaos, holding Dylan’s attention hostage. “Don’t worry, Dylan. I like making my girls squirm.”

She gulps but doesn’t comment.

With another deep chuckle, he adds, “Yeah, you’re gonna be fun. I can tell.” He steps back, giving her room to breathe, and rubs his hands together, tacking on one more devilish smirk for good measure.

Cupping his hands around his mouth, he yells, “Game Night is about to start! If you’re interested in playing, join us out back with a full cup of your favorite beverage of choice.” He heads toward the exit, and a crowd follows him.

“Dude,” Finley gushes. She fans herself with her hand while balancing her drink with her opposite one. “Am I the only one hot and bothered from that interaction or what?”

“Yeah, it was alotof fun,” Dylan mutters.

“Aw, come on. I think he likes you,” Finley argues.

Dylan scoffs. “AndIthink he has player written all over him.”

“There’s nothing wrong with hanging out with a player.” Finley nudges Dylan with her shoulder. “As long as you keep your heart in check—”

“No offense, Fin, but I’m not you,” Dylan interrupts. “I can hardly talk to normal guys. You really think I want to attempt to keep up with someone likehim?” She snorts. “I might be naive, but I’m not delusional.” Throwing the rest of her drink back, Dylan adds another heavy splash of rum into her cup, grumbling, “Come on. Let’s get this party over with.”

“That’s the spirit,” Finley says dryly when Everett approaches us with a sour look.

“What are you doin’ here, Fin?” he demands.

“Uh, hi, big brother.” She grins and gives him a quick squeeze. “I was—”

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