Page 68 of Hang the Moon
“Normally Brendon and I partner up,” Margot explained. “It’s not safe to put those two”—she nodded at Darcy and Brendon—“on a team together. They’re ruthless.”
“I replaced your coffee table, didn’t I?” Darcy arched a brow. “No harm, no foul.”
“Brendon fellthroughthe coffee table. It was scarring.” Margot shivered. “I thought we were going to have to drive him to the emergency room.”
Brendon turned to Annie and smiled. “Be my partner?”
“As long as I don’t fall through a coffee table,” she joked.
“Don’t worry.” He tried and failed to wink, an adorable quirk of his. Less adorable and far more arousing, his thumb rubbed a maddeningly little circle on the skin of her knee. “I’d catch you.”
Logic told her it was time to move his hand away. That the longer she left it there without saying something, the more obvious it was she liked it when he touched her. That it would be harder to deny herself these little touches that didn’tfeellike nothing. Each brush of his skin against hers made her want another, made her want more. It was becoming harder and harder—nearly impossible—to remember why she wasn’t supposed to be letting this happen.
She set her glass on the table and, in the process, shifted slightly forward, dislodging Brendon’s hand from her knee.
Margot stood and stretched, her back popping. “I’ll be with Elle and Darcy. Let me run and grab some paper.”
She returned in a flash. In one hand she had a handful of scrap paper and in the other two plastic cups. “The rules are simple. Charades, at least according to our house rules, involves each player writing a ten-word-or-less phrase, song title, movie, or other pop culture reference on a slip of paper. You then fold your suggestion in half and slip it inside your designated cup. One player draws from the opposite team’s cup, then has one minute to act out whatever is on the slip of paper. Sound good?”
Annie nodded. The next five minutes were spent in near silence, save for the occasional muffled whisper and snicker as they each individually filled out their slips.
Elle drew first, her smile immediate. “Okay. Everyone ready?”
Margot and Darcy nodded, both sitting up straighter. Brendon’s thumb hovered over the timer on his phone.
“And... go!” he said, starting the clock.
Immediately, Elle pointed upward.
“Ceiling!”
“Roof!”
“Sky?” Margot guessed.
Elle bounced on her toes, grinning, gesturing for them to keep going.
“Sky... sky... stars?” Margot said.
Elle clapped her hands and nodded. She made a fist and punched at the air.
“Fight?”
She frowned and bobbed her head from side to side. With her thumb and forefinger, she made a gun, shooting at some invisible enemy.
“Shoot? Fire?” Darcy guessed.
As if holding a baseball bat, Elle swung, then stepped back, nearly tripping over the rug as she parried an imaginary blow.
“Battle! War!Star Wars!” Darcy screamed.
Elle shrieked and threw herself at Darcy. One point to the opposing team. Brendon stared at Annie with wide, serious eyes. “You want to act first or guess?”
She wiped her hands on her legs and stood, reaching inside the cup for a slip of paper. “You guess.”
Her eyes skimmed the writing on the slip; she recognized Darcy’s perfect, looping handwriting. Heat crept up Annie’s jaw.
“Ready?” Darcy smiled.
