Page 21 of A Little Complicated

The bathroom door closes with a quiet click and mutes the chaos from the main area. After using the restroom, I wash my hands and take a deep breath, the incessant question of why I’m here rolling through my brain like a pinball.

I shouldn’t have come.

Not when Archer isn’t here.

But going home sounds pretty terrible too. Especially since I’ve been dreaming about my life at LAU long before prom. Long before my world was flipped upside down. Long before I had my heart broken by one person, only for their twin to be the one to put the pieces back together again. Or at least…most of them.

A loud bell rings throughout the main floor, and I jerk at the sound. Hands begin pounding on the walls outside the bathroom and down the hallway, followed by whistling and shouting. It shakes the picture frames on the wall and rattles my insides, piquing my curiosity. After drying my hands on the dark blue towel hanging from its hook, I open the bathroom door and freeze. The door on the opposite side of the hall opens at the same time. Maverick stops short when he sees me. His wavy hair is damp from a recent shower and looks like he’s been running his fingers through it.

Surprised I actually came, Maverick?I want to ask.Yeah, me too.

The crooked smirk I’ve grown accustomed to plays at the edge of his lips as he slips his sarcastic mask into place. But it isn’t meant for me. It’s meant for everyone else. Everyone who might see us talking. Who might see us interact. Who might see Maverick chatting with his brother’s girlfriend and playing nice despite our past no one knows about.

It’s strange. The way it draws me to him yet pushes me away. Because I know it’s fake. It’sallfake. But evenIhave to admit he’s convincing. With a look like that, you’d never know I was on his shit list. Too bad for me, my name is written on it in thick, bold Sharpie like the one I used to enter whatever game we’re playing tonight, and there isn’t anything on this planet strong enough to erase it. Then again, it isn’t my problem. He’s the asshole who broke my heart, not the other way around. It seems he’s forgotten that little tidbit.

So what if his brother is the one offering to piece it back together again?

“You ready to play a game, Opie?” Maverick challenges.

I lift my chin and fold my arms. “Only if you stop calling me Opie.”

He grins even bigger, but it doesn’t reach his navy blue eyes as they flick over my body and return to my gaze. He holds my attention for another beat, then he heads down the hall and into the family room. My footsteps are hesitant as I follow behind him. Flurries of unease and curiosity flutter beneath my skin. The place is somehow even more packed than when I’d escaped to the bathroom. Reeves is standing on the coffee table in the family room, making himself an extra eighteen inches taller than everyone else in the space. There’s a thick gold chain around his neck, along with a three-inch gaudy medallion, though I can’t see what it says. When he sees me, Reeves smirks, and I give him a tiny wave as he stands on the small platform. Maverick witnesses the interaction and pushes me behind his back, placing himself between us while also cutting off my line of sight.

“Hey!” I grab his shirt at the base of his spine, attempting to step around him, but he mirrors my movements.

Barely casting me a glance, Maverick says, “Just trying to keep my friend from getting his ass kicked, Opie.”

“By who? Archer isn’t here, remember?” I shift from one foot to the other, attempting to move around him, but he meets my movements with his own.

Turning to face me, Maverick grunts, “Archer’s not the one he’ll have to deal with if Reeves doesn’t get his head out of his ass.” He grabs my shoulders to keep me from squirming. “Now stay.”

“Am I a dog?” I question, but before he has a chance to reply, Reeves’ voice booms off the walls and Maverick lets me go, turning to face his friend on the coffee table again. I peek around him, watching the night unfold.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Reeves announces. He does a slow turn on the table, confirming he has everyone’s attention. “As you know, I was the victor at the last Game Night and won bragging rights, along with this bad boy right here.” He lifts the oversized medallion and kisses it, pulling laughs from everyone around me. “Now, we have a few more people here tonight, so I’m gonna give you a quick run-through of the rules for Game Night. If you came here with a date, give them a kiss and step aside. Jealousy stays at the door. If you don’t have enough faith in your relationship to last an evening at Game Night, you probably shouldn’t be together in the first place. And remember, everything that happens at Game Nightstaysat Game Night. If you walked in here tonight, you agreed to play whatever game is announced, which is what I’ll be doing as soon as every person is paired. Ones, pick a name, any name.” Reeves’ grin widens as the giant glass bowl is passed around the room from one pair of hands to the next. Sure enough, every person with a one scrawled on their skin sticks their hands into the bowl, pulls a piece of paper out, and scans the area for their partner. Once Everett has plucked a piece of paper from the mass, he hands Maverick the bowl. Mav takes a slip of paper and opens it, letting out a low, bitter laugh.

“Is there a problem?” I ask. I rise onto my tiptoes and peek over Maverick’s shoulder to see who he’s paired with, but he crumples the notecard and stuffs it in his back pocket.

The same low laugh greets me as he turns around, his expression unreadable. “Looks like you’re with me, Opie.”

My heels hit the ground, and I pull back. “Should I be worried?”

His mouth lifts, but it’s tainted somehow. Like he’s holding back a sneer. “Probably.”

Great.

6

OPHELIA

“And now, for the game.” Reeves spreads his arms wide as he stands on the coffee table in the center of the room like an announcer for the Hunger Games. “Tonight, we’ll be playing The Floor is Lava!”

Cheering erupts.

Eating up the chaos, Reeves rubs his hands together and does another slow spin, confirming he still has everyone’s attention. “Rules are simple. You touch the ground, your judge—which is me—decides whether your team takes a shot or loses an item of clothing. When I shout earthquake, you must move to a different piece of furniture without touching the ground. When I yell,freeze, you stop moving. If you don’t, your judge again decides if you and your teammate take a shot or lose an item of clothing. You’re out when you’re puking or naked. The last team standing wins bragging rights, the medallion, and game choice at the next Game Night. Any questions?”

A beat of silence passes, and a kid who looks like he can’t be much older than me approaches.

“You guys partners?” he asks, eyeing me and Mav, while he twirls a set of handcuffs around his forefinger.

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