Page 23 of Midnights
Kane’s tone is final, and the way he’s looking at me makes it crystal clear that he fully expects to win.
The guys exchange a quick glance before turning back to us. Their friends are already settling in like they’re about to watch the best entertainment of the night.
This should be a quick game.
The good news is I’m last to go. Which means I have time to mentally prepare…or more time to panic.
Cam steps up first. He throws with an effortless flick of his wrist and the dart is on the board, inner ring.
Ten points for Gryffindor… or however the hell this game works.
Rachel’s next. She barely makes it, but it sticks. I have no idea how many points that gives us, but it’s something.
Then it's Kane’s turn.
I already know how this is going to go.
And sure enough. Bullseye.
“Wow,” I deadpan. “I never saw that coming.”
Kane shoots me a look. “Careful, your jealousy is showing.”
I snort. “Jealous? Of what? Your… dart-throwing skills?” I gesture dramatically at the board. “Yeah, you’re so impressive. What a talent. Truly inspiring.”
Rachel nearly chokes on her drink, covering her mouth to keep from spitting it out.
Kane just shakes his head, exhaling through his nose like I’m some kind of impossible child. “Are you going to talk or throw?”
“Oh, I can do both,” I say sweetly, taking my place at the line. “It’s called multitasking. You should try it sometime.”
“Impressive,” he muses. “Is that what they’re teaching these days?”
I flash him a smug smile. “Yep. Right after we master sarcasm and humbling cocky men.”
That gets me a laugh from the group. Kane just stands there, unshaken, like he enjoys the challenge.
I grit my teeth, feeling the competitive fire flare back to life. I can’t tell if it's the drink or just me, but I'm instantly annoyed at how good he is. Annoyed, impressed, and okay, slightly turned on.
Of course they’re not going to just win, they’re going to mop the floor with us. But losing isn’t the problem. It’s losing to him that’s the real issue.
Now, the moment of truth. My turn.
Whichever way you want to look at it, I know I’m about to make a fool of myself. But weirdly enough? I don’t think I care. My only goal is to get the dartsomewhereon the board.Anywhere.
I grab my drink and down the rest, hoping it’ll either sharpen my focus or at least soften the blow of embarrassment.
It's just the dart and me.We are ONE.
I take a breath, trying to tune out the music, the chatter, and the low rumble of laughter. I roll my shoulders back, mimicking what the others did, even though I know I’m working with pure delusion at this point.
Kane shifts slightly in my peripheral, watching, waiting. I refuse to let him be the reason I mess this up.
Ignoring him, I grip the dart, lifting my arm and pulling it back. Right before I let it fly, I say a silent prayer to the Dart Gods.
Please, just let me hit the board.That’s all I ask.
Thedart leaves my fingers in what feels like a decent throw. For half a second, I hold my breath. The little traitor flies straight, hitting the board dead center. Bullseye.
