Page 24 of In For a Penny
“Me too! It’s definitely a Marquez family tradition,” I smile excitedly. “I remember one time my brothers got into such a big argument over a European takeover that they didn’t speak for days,” I say with a pang of homesickness. My dad banned us from playing it formonths.
“Can I tell you something without you making fun of me?” he asks.
“I make no promises,” I say, taking a swig of my beer.
He rolls his eyes at me. “And here I thought we were having a moment.” He moves as if to get up from the couch, but I grab him by the arm with my free hand, laughing.
“Come on, I’m sorry. What were you gonna tell me?”
He looks over at the table to make sure they’re not paying attention, and then his gaze lands back on my face. “Nah, never mind,” he says with a mysterious smile. “I think you’re gonna have to earn that piece of info.”
I snort, trying to look like I don’t care. “Okay,” I say, but we’re interrupted by a very loud groan.
“We had a fuckingalliance, Jane. An alliance! HAVE YOU NO RESPECT FOR DIPLOMATIC AGREEMENTS?!” Oliver yells frantically. He’s struggling to hold Asia and looks like he’s about ready to lose his mind.
“Agreements are made to be broken, Oliver,” Jane says, shaking the die in her hands. “Pick up your die; let’s keep going,” her eyes like daggers.
Savage.
I’m so proud of her.
“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. If you stop attacking me for two rounds, I promise not to hit on you for a week.”
Jane considers this. “Not good enough,” she responds and goes back to shaking the die in her hands, preparing to roll.
“Okay! Okay! One month! I’ll leave you alone for one whole month.” He’s a desperate man. “No sexual innuendos, no jokes, nothing.”
Josh and I laugh and turn back to each other. “And to think they thought this was a child’s game.”
“If I promise not to attack you from now on, will you leave me alone forever?” Eloise asks.
I roll my eyes at her, but luckily, no one sees.
Absolutely no sense of humor.
It’s two am, and Janeand Oliver are still at it. Eloise “had to leave” and hour ago, thank God. She looked more than relieved when she was killed off by Jane, as if she couldn’t stand being here a second longer.
Ugh.
Josh walked her downstairs all the way to her Uber. I casually peeked through the windows to check whether he kissed her goodnight, whether he was lying about it not being a date. I didn’t see anything happen from where I stood, but that didn’t mean anything. They could have kissed in the elevator.
Who cares, though. I don’t.
Once he makes it back, we hang out quietly on the couch until Jane wipes the floor with Oliver and wins the game. I’m so happy I could cry. I just want to go to sleep at this point, and the night has been a roller coaster of emotions with this damn game. A triumphant Jane and a sulking Oliver share an Uber ride home, both extremely drunk, while Josh stays behind to help pick up.
“You really don’t have to,” I say as I grab a trash bag from under the sink.
He smiles an exhausted smile and starts picking up beer bottles. “It’s definitely not my favorite thing, but I’m not going to let you clean this up all by yourself.”
“Thanks for the honesty,” I chuckle. “I really appreciate the help, though. My roommate is kind of…intense about order and cleanliness.”
“Uh, yeah.” He laughs. “I was looking for a bar of soap under your sink to wash my hands and saw her Monica-level organizational skills. I’ve never seen so many different labeled and color-coded boxes in such a small space. And that inventory list taped to the inside of the door! Genius.” I laugh at poor Allie. She can’t help it. “I didn’t realize there were so many different ways of codifying soap.” I’m all about control, but, funnily enough, I’m not an organized person.
“Yeah, she cleans when she’s stressed.”
“What doyoudo when you’re stressed?” he asks. He doesn’t mean it in a suggestive way, but the hour and the exhaustion add an extra heaviness and load to his words, twisting their meaning and adding an innuendo in my head.
My mind takes a turn down a weird path, and my stomach does a weird flip-punch thing, and I lose focus. “Uh…what?” I ask, trying to recover.
