Page 77 of Winning the Nightcap

But then I take a step back and turn to face Bec and her family. Ready to hear their guesses.

Except the room is silent.

This house hasn’t been silent since I stepped inside hours ago. Not a moment of quiet in introductions, through dinner, or during this game. Bec’s family maintains a consistent rumble of side conversations at all times. Enough so that I find myself jumping from conversation to conversation as everyone pulls my attention in a new direction. I don’t know if I’ve finished a full thought tonight or if I just jumped from topic to topic, joining and rejoining different discussions, moving fluidly throughout their group. It’s just their natural state of being it seems.

But not now…now, they’re all sitting quietly. Staring at me.

Bec’s face is pale and her eyes are huge. Her head slowly shakes back and forth.What…what the fuck does that mean?

I turn back to my drawing to make sure it looks strictly vegetarian and not…carnivorous. And…okay, maybe it’s not as good as I originally thought. Okay, maybe it’s terrible.

I steal another glance at the Millers. Bec looks the same as before,her head still shaking in disbelief, her eyes never leaving my drawing. Danny is trying to hide her shit-eating grin behind her hand. Denise’s mouth is hanging open. Ash is nodding his head, his lips pursed, one arm crossed against his stomach while his other hand is rubbing his jaw. Toby has his lips pressed together with his teeth, his head tilted and his eyes squinting as if he’s trying to convince himself he’s not seeing what he’s seeing. And Thomas…I can’t even look at Bec’s father, so I’m just going to pretend he’s not here.

Yeah, it’s pretty phallic, I guess.

Shit, the stem and leaves definitely look like pubes.

God fucking dammit.

Finally, someone breaks the silence, but it doesn’t bring any relief to my heart that is threatening to pound out of my chest. I’m really sweating now. My palms are slick as they hang at my sides in defeat.

“That’s a penis,” Bec’s dad says. “You wanna tell me why you drew a penis on the family Pictionary board, Aiden?”

I look back at the board, then at him, still trying to find the right words to say next when Ash chimes in. “Yeah, don’t you play ball or something? You could have at least added those too?”

“Ashton!” Denise reprimands.

“What? If you’re gonna draw a dick at family game night, might as well throw in some balls too,” he argues, like this is a completely reasonable assessment of the situation.

“It’s an eggplant,” I yell way louder than necessary. “I swear it’s an eggplant. I can’t draw for shit. I’m sorry. Here.” I rip the card out of my pocket and desperately hold it out in front of me.

Just when I think it’s time to bolt out of the room, through the front door, and into my car to make a quick getaway, Thomas shocks the fuck outta me. The man lets out a cackle so loud, so unhinged, it seems unbelievably out of character for the reserved man I’ve been getting to know all evening. Everyone joins Bec’s dad, laughing at what I knowwill become a memory I’ll never live down.

“Bec, if you keep Aiden around to play Pictionary again, then I demand to be on the other team from here on out. Stick to your day job, Price,” Thomas says, standing and clapping me on the back.

“Yes, sir. I think I’ll be doing just that.”

Chapter Forty-Six

Aiden

“You need to promise right now. Do it,” Bec pleads, her voice maniacal.

“Okay, I promise I won’t laugh,” I huff. “Can I take the blindfold off now?”

“Not yet, keep them closed while we walk inside.” She tugs on my arm, pulling me into her apartment. I feel Hopper rush past me, and I drop his leash as he presumably makes himself at home on Bec’s couch.

“I know what this is. Is this the VIP room treatment? Am I about to get a special birthday dance, Bec?

“You wish, perv.”

“You bet your perfect ass I do.” I reach my arms in front of me, blindly grabbing for Bec, coming up empty until I feel her shoulder brush against me. I find her arm and pull her against my front clumsily, my arm wrapping tightly around her waist.

“You couldn’t handle a dance from me, old man.”

“Ah right, of course. I’m twenty-eight going on ninety.”

“They say you’re only as old as you feel.”

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