Page 60 of Vicious Games

“Oh, no,” she sighs. “What did Lucky do?”

He kissed me.

And made me feel…things.

“Nothing,” I mutter. “He didn’t do anything. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”

Before she has a chance to ask me anything else, I rush past her, run up the stairs into my room, and shut the door behind me with more force than necessary.

The air inside feels heavier somehow. Like the room knows something’s different about me.

I don’t bother turning on the lights. I just collapse onto my bed, letting the silence wrap around me. Outside, the sun sinks below the horizon, casting golden streaks across the floor. Then everything fades into dark blue, then black.

I don’t move. I don’t eat. I just sit there, knees drawn up to my chest, staring at nothing.

At some point, my fingers find my lips as if still trying to make sense of what happened.

I can still feel him.

The heat. The pressure.

The way the world fell away for a second and it was justhim and me and now.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand, its glow slicing through the dark. I already know who it is since only one person has my number—the same asshole who gave it to me in the first place.

I groan, dragging myself over and grabbing the phone anyway.

Lucky:You’re still thinking about that kiss, aren’t you?

Me:Leave me alone.

Lucky:Not until you admit it.

Me:Don’t hold your breath.

Me:On second thought… hold it.

Lucky:Admit it, Frankie. You liked it.

I glare at the phone, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Good thing he’s not here.

Because I don’t trust myself not to kiss him again… or murder him on the spot.

Me:Oh, I’m Frankie now. Not Frances.

Lucky:I’ll call you whatever you want me to call you. Just admit it. You’re thinking about that kiss.

Me:Sounds like you are more than I am.

Lucky:I’m thinking about a lot of things right now.

I swallow hard, his words planting forbidden images in my mind.

I bite my lower lip but don’t dare reply.

This vicious game of his feels like a trap. And I refuse to be toyed with.

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