Page 91 of These Wicked Games
“Fresh start, okay?” Andre smiles.
“Fresh start.” I kiss him, aware of the people around us. I don’t care, but as soon as we walk into the bar it’s like everything stops. There are a lot of eyes on us, but when I see Vanessa waving at us from the bar my anxiety dissipates. Her hair spills down her back in big curls. She’s beaming, and I’m already bracing myself when we walk up to the bar and she looks at me. “Save it,” I huff, sitting at the bar.
Her sparkling eyes land on Andre. “I called this. I almost wish I’d put money on it.”
“Enough, Vee,” Andre chuckles beside me, and my fingers itch to reach for him as he sits. We still haven’t made an official statement, and as far as I’m concerned we don’t have to. We wiped the fucking floor with the opposition at our last game. It was awesome, and I’m so fucking proud of the man beside me. Having that much pressure on him must have been intense, but he got us a win.
Tomorrow, if we win, Atlas and Grey insist on us resuming our tradition, only this time Andre will now be invited. It feels good that they’re accepting him. Atlas is still pissed at me a little, but he’s coming around now. “Do you have any bartenders who aren’t nosy?” I lookaround her, searching.
She throws her towel onto the bar. “Sorry, fresh out, Kuli.” Placing her elbows on the bar, she looks at us both. “So, how’s the sweet life, fellas? Picking out his and his towels yet? You better invite me to the wedding. I love a good party.”
“Shut up. You know you’ll be my best woman.” Andre leans over the bar. “Now, if you’re done gloating, give me a drink.”
She smacks him with the towel, and he laughs, sitting back down. She pours him a glass of amber liquor. He sips it slowly, and I can’t help watching the way his throat works. Just imagining my fingers around it while I fuck him has me going down a dangerous path. “Down, boy,” Vanessa says, pouring me a drink. She pours another for herself, then holds her glass up. “To being right and clockin’ both of your shit.” I laugh, clinking our glasses. Andre clinks his empty one.
“I refuse to admit you wereclockin’ our shit.”
“Please, I could see the sexual tension through the screens. I have a gift.” Ignoring her, I look around the bar.
“Looks like we didn’t do too much damage.”
“What’s a few broken glasses in the name of love,” she teases, pouring herself and Andre another drink. “So, how’s everything been since you left?” she asks him. “Any unwelcome visits?”
“He knows, Vee,” he says softly. “And yeah, but it doesn’t matter.” He gives her a sad smile. I think about the night he ran to me. Ran to me because I’m a safe place for him. It hits me now, I don’t know why. Despite our history, the things we’ve done and said, Andre trusts me.
My fingers itch and I give in to the pull to touch him. My hand lands on his knee, squeezing. I don’t have the power to change the things that have been done, but I have the power to be his place torest and not have to worry about what will happen when he comes home at the end of the day.
We’re going to fight, we’re going to piss each other off, but at the end of the day, I am the place he comes to rest. The place he can relax and be taken care of.
I’m in love with him. I’m sure of it. “What do you say, Oli?” I’d zoned out, not hearing him. Andre gets up, going to the jukebox.
“What are you doing?” Ignoring me, he looks through the music box, picking a song. Some old country song winds through the room. There are quite a few people in here, but no one is paying us too much attention.
“Go ahead, Oli.” Vanessa smiles.
I stand, walking towards him. I don’t think I’ve ever danced with anyone, but I let him pull me into his arms. We’re not really dancing, he’s just holding me tight and moving with the rhythm of the song. The music sounds good, and the way he looks at me feels even better. I don’t know what’s ahead for us, but I know no matter what, Andre will be by my side.
He’s my future.
“Mmm, Oli.” Andre kisses my neck, resting his head on my shoulder. “You’re a shit dancer.”
I snap back with a glare. “Fuck you.”
“Maybe later.” He chuckles, his warm breath hitting my neck. “Your hands on my waist feel good.”
A lot has happened, and I wonder how he feels about us not making a statement. “Are you mad I haven’t said anything about us publicly?” It’s not that I don’t want to; I just don’t think it’s necessary. After the first week the news of our “scandal” fizzled out.Rome from the Vipers got arrested in a bar fight in Montreal and it took the heat off us a bit.
He lifts his head from my shoulder. “Are you asking if I’m angry you haven’t ripped your shirt off and claimed me in front of the whole world?”
“When you put it that way—”
“Oli,” he sighs. “I don’t give a shit what you do publicly. You have nothing to prove to me. It is what it is, and at the end of the day, it’s only our business.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him how much he means to me, but I can’t. I don’t know why or what’s holding me back. “You still piss me off,” is what I do say.
Andre laughs sharply, leaning in to kiss me. I let him, soaking in the feel of him. “Oli, be prepared for me to piss you off every day of your life.”
twenty-seven
