Page 8 of Pretty Little Game

Cassio snorts lightly. “I wish. I already checked. They don’t have it.”

“Darn.” I give an aw-shucks snap of the finger.

He scrolls a bit longer before offering up the remote. I throw onMoulin Rouge!–a favorite of mine and one I know Ellie has memorized word for word. She’ll either appreciate watching it again or appreciate that she’s already seen it and doesn’t have to pay attention.

“I figure if we can’t have the aliens, then we can at least have a title with an exclamation point, right?” I joke, setting down the remote as the opening credits start to roll.

“Definitely,” Cassio agrees.

Taking my glass of wine, I curl up on the couch, tucking my feet beneath me as I try to focus on the screen and not the boy sitting next to me.

His own glass of wine rests casually in one hand, his other lying across the back of the couch and extending toward me–almost inviting me to slide closer. But I don’t trust that it’s his actual intent. He was sitting like this before I arrived. The only difference being the remote held the place where his wine now sits.

Lucca’s and Ellie’s voices drop closer to a murmur as the movie starts, but they barely seem to notice otherwise, and they scoot nearer so as not to disturb us with their conversation. His hand rests casually on her leg, implying comfort and intimacy.

I take a large gulp of my wine and train my eyes on the movie, trying to give them some privacy, though they don’t seem to even recall that Cassio and I are in the room with them.

As if hearing his name in my mind, Cassio leans closer to me, and the seductive scent of bergamot, vetiver, and spice fills my nose. My pulse quickens as my eyes instinctually shift to meet his.

“Ten bucks says Lucca makes a move before Ewan McGregor,” he whispers conspiratorially.

I snort and hide my smile as I glance toward the couple, slowly leaning closer to each other on the couch. “Have you seenMoulin Rouge!before?” I ask. “Because it hardly seems fair to be betting like that if you have.”

Cassio shrugs. “Alright. Then what should we bet on?”

“Whether they take a break long enough to actually drink their glasses of wine?”

He snickers. “Done. Which side are you taking?”

“I’ll let you pick since I posed the bet.”

“Knowing Lucca, he’ll manage to finish his. Are we counting if one finishes, or both?”

“Both.”

“Hmm.” Cassio studies them for a moment, his eyes lingering on Ellie as she fiddles with the rim of her wine glass. “Yeah, I’ll take that they can both finish.”

We shake hands and break into silent mirth before turning our attention to our own wine. And as we turn our attention back to the screen, I’m intensely aware that Cassio didn’t replace the original distance between us. While he did lean back into the couch, he’s a good foot closer to me than before.

I take a deep breath and try to steady my heart, as I watch Nicole Kidman arrive in her bedazzling display of diamonds to sing her opening number. From the corner of my eye, I catch Ellie setting down her glass of wine, and then Lucca leans in to capture her lips.

My stomach does a little flip as I’m given the visual of what it would be like to watch Cassio kiss someone else, and I swallow hard. It’s almost painful to watch my friend make out with my crush’s twin brother–even though Cassio and I aren’t together, and it’s not even him kissing Ellie.

But damn, as they draw closer, losing themselves in a prolonged lip lock, I almost feel nauseous with jealousy that it’s not Cassio and me.

Cassio shifts beside me, and he leans closer again. “Alright, you were right. That bet would have been too easy.”

A giggle bubbles up inside me even as my knot of emotional turmoil tightens in my stomach. I work to keep my eyes on the screen so I won’t reveal any of it to the wonderfully cologned man sitting beside me.

“Bianka, can I ask you something?” he murmurs a moment later, and again, the sound of my name coming from his lips does things to my body that it should not.

“Of course,” I say, turning to meet his eyes.

“I don’t want to pry or anything, but are things really fine with your brother? You can tell me if you don’t want to talk about it. I just want to make sure you’re okay….” The concern in his eyes brings butterflies to life in my stomach, and I find it hard to breathe. “He wouldn’t… hurt you or anything, would he?”

“No!” I whisper adamantly before reining in my shock. “No, no, of course not. My brother has a temper, sure. But he’s never laid a hand on me–nor would he ever. It’s just… he worries a lot. What with him beingpakhanfor the Shulaya and how our father died….”

I shake my head, my eyes dropping to the couch. “He doesn’t trust other families,” I say delicately, then release a sigh, letting my head fall back onto the back cushion of the couch, coming dangerously close to touching Cassio’s hand.

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