Page 3 of The Games We Play
I was never shy when it came to self-expression. Whether through fashion, words, or the way I carried myself, I owned every piece of who I was.
Tonight was no different.
The tight spandex bodysuit hugged my curves like a second skin, sleek and unforgiving. Peeling this thing off later would definitely require assistance, preferably from one person in particular.
I ran my hands down my body, the smooth fabric between my fingertips. Hair swept into a high ponytail, cat ears perched perfectly, eyeliner sharp enough to cut. The finishing touch? A spritz of my signature perfume and a pair of knee-high black heeled boots that added the right amount of edge.
With the music still humming in my veins, I turned off the speaker, flicked off the bathroom light, and stepped into my living room—a space as bold and vibrant as I was. Bright colors and playful patterns filled every corner, each piece a reflection of me. My passion for color—for chaos—was woven into everything I touched.
Flopping onto the couch, I reached for my first boot, slipping it on with ease before zipping up the next. My main goal tonight? Finally breaking this tension-filled energy that had been simmering between me and Mac Ridley, the infuriatingly good-looking bartender living in my head rent-free.
I’d spent my time finding ways to tease him, to pull him in, but nothing ever stuck. Mac had this effortless charm, a mix of brazen and rebellious, that made my insides twist in ways I was willing to admit to anyone who listened.
Mac thrived on being playful, untamed, the kind of man who could turn any moment into an adventure. The two of ustogether? The chaos we’d cause, the energy we’d ignite, was undeniable.
And I wanted all of that.
I wasn’t too proud to beg. Hell, I’d drop to my damn hands and knees and crawl to that man if it meant getting what I wanted—though, that wasn’t something I did often.
Tonight, I wasn’t leaving without a taste of cigarettes and beer straight from Mac’s lips.
Tossing my purse over my shoulder, I headed for my car. She wasn’t anything fancy, but she was mine, and that’s what mattered. Rideshares didn’t exist in Faircloud—too small, too quiet—so I already knew I’d be crashing at Aspen’s.
Aspen had been my best friend since grade school. We grew up in Faircloud, a town so small you could probably fit the entire population on the main lawn of the Community Park. One stoplight. Everybody knew everybody. If you sneezed in the morning, by noon, Mrs. Winchester from the diner was offering you a home remedy.
Aspen and I had always been inseparable, bonded by our love of books and an almost identical taste in fashion. Lately, though, things had changed. She’d fallen hard for Boone Cassidy, the former chaos creator, now reformed gentleman. That meant I hadn’t just gained a future brother-in-law, but a whole new circle of friends.
What started as three friends —Aspen, Theo, and me—expanded to seven. Funny enough, we’d all grown up together, but our worlds had never fully meshed. Not until now, when circumstances changed.
I was eager to see them all. However, one person in particular was on my radar.
Mac wanted me just as badly as I wanted him, and tonight, I planned to finally do something about it.
“A little to the left!”Aspen called out, her voice carrying through the barn as I balanced precariously on Boone’s broad shoulders. My arms burned from holding up yet another fake bat, the last in a long line of decorations I’d been wrestling with since I arrived.
Why was I the one up here instead of Aspen? She was terrified of heights, and no one had bothered to grab a ladder. So here I was, clinging to Boone for dear life, trying to hook this damn bat into place.
I exhaled, patience thinning. “My left or your left?”
“Mine!” she yelled back.
Boone shifted obligingly, his steady hands keeping me balanced, and I stretched one last time, finally managing to loop the fishing line over the hook on the barn beam. By some miracle, I got it on the first try.
With a deep grunt, Boone bent slightly, giving me the cue to jump down. I slid off his shoulders, landing lightly on my feet. He straightened, adjusting the ridiculous sheep ears on his head with a lazy grin.
Aspen, in her pink puffy dress, looked like she’d stepped right out of a storybook—the perfect Bo Peep. Boone, ever the devoted sheep, played along with his usual easygoing charm.
He lifted a hand for a high-five. “Great work up there,” he teased.
I smirked, slapping my hand against his. “I need a freaking drink after that.”
Aspen looped an arm around Boone’s waist as she joined us. “The drink table’s set up over there. We have punch and other things. Go grab one before the party starts.”
Boone pressed a kiss to the top of Aspen’s head, his affection so obvious it made my heart squeeze. She glowed, her happiness radiating from the inside out. Seeing her this way made me realize just how much things had changed—how much we’d all grown.
“Alcohol is my preference,” I declared, placing my hands on my hips.
Aspen grinned. “There’s plenty to choose from. I may have gone a little overboard, so now I’m just hoping enough people actually show up to drink it all.”
