Page 63 of Intense
“So you can blackmail me?”
I blush. He thinks so highly of me.
“Yes.”
He shrugs. Wrapping a strong arm around my shoulders, dragging me next to him, I bring up my camera and take a selfie.
“Wow. We look so drunk,” I giggle.
He chuckles beside me, his arm still heavy on my shoulders.
His finger brushes over me in the picture.
“You look cute when you’re drunk, Stephanie.”
“So do you. Aw. Look at us being all sweet.”
I’m not sure how I feel about it. But I have to keep my victory in mind.
“Next place?” I ask him, sliding my phone back in my purse.
“Yep. You gotta lose soon.”
He helps me out of the booth, and I smile.
An actual real smile at Dr. Quinn.
Chapter 23
FINN
Song- Marry you, Bruno Mars.
She’s losing.
But she’s too stubborn to say it.
Round seven hit her hard. I saw it. The tremble in her hand. The unfocused blink. Her spine’s still straight, but her soul’s sliding sideways.
I’m not much better. I’ll admit that.
But I’ve danced with worse poisons than tequila.
She finishes her drink and slams the shot glass down like it offended her mother.
Although, I shouldn’t bring up her parents. I know they’re in jail for a homicide. Probably an awkward conversation topic. And I don’t know how I’d deal with a crying Stephanie.
“I hate losing,” she mutters, voice rasped.
“Good thing you’re used to it,” I reply, lips curling into a grin.
She glares at me like she’s about to lunge across the table. “You are such a smug, self-absorbed, egotistical?—"
“Careful,” I cut in, lifting my glass. “You’re starting to sound like my therapist.”
She laughs. A real one this time. Unfiltered. Unpolished. Like she forgot how to be angry for half a second.
It’s the best sound I’ve heard in months.
