Page 52 of Huge Games

I show them one of my high school pictures, and they laugh their heads off at my crazy, frizzy orange halo hair and weird heart-embroidered jeans.

Elias laughs and jokes, but it's not until I'm home and in bed that I realize he never told us a thing about himself.

17

ELIAS

It's seven pm, and I'm stretched out on my bed in my boxers, catching up with game highlights when my phone rings. Celine's name flashes on my screen.

"Whatup?"

She snorts. "Is that your way of saying hello?"

"Are you calling to bust my balls, or do you want something?"

"Nice." The accompanying huffing sound makes me smile. "I need your help."

"This is becoming a habit, Celine. Have you forgotten I'm not your boyfriend?"

"Ugh. Elias. Seriously. You are not boyfriend material. But you are my fuck buddy, and as far as I can tell, you enjoy our little games, so maybe you should listen instead of being snarky."

"Fuck buddy?"

"Friend with benefits? Booty call? What would you call it?"

"Pussy," I say, knowing it's going to piss her off. I likeCeline when she's riled up. Plus, her snideness about my boyfriend abilities pisses me off.

"Fuck you."

"I'm nearly naked, Celine. If that's what you want, you know where I am."

Her frustrated growl amuses me so much I bring my fist to my mouth and bite down. After a few seconds of pause and a few audible deep breaths, she changes tack.

"Please, Elias, can you help me with my class? My test is tomorrow."

"Come over, but I'm warning you now. I'm not putting on any clothes." I cup my dick which has stirred and stiffened at the words pussy and naked. It’s so easily aroused.

"I can't. I'm at my sister's babysitting again. Aiden's mom is in the hospital, so they've both visited."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I say, frowning. "But are you seriously calling to ask me to drive over and help you?"

"I'm seriously asking that. Forget asking, I'm begging. I don't know what the hell I'm doing. They're going to kick me out, and then I won't be around for any more booty calls."

The desperation in her voice is real, and although I like to pretend to be an asshole, when a friend is in need, I can never say no.

Groaning, I slide my legs off the edge of the bed and reach for my discarded sweatpants. "Message me the address."

"You're an angel," she squeals. "Did anyone ever tell you that?"

"No."

I hang up, trying to find a clean shirt. I really need to do some laundry. Maybe I could do some at Celine's sister's house? Kill two birds with one stone. I reply to hermessage, asking if using the washer and dryer would be out of the question. She replies,Bring your stinky clothes, and I'll do your laundry as payback. I counter-reply withPussy is payback. Laundry I can manage on my own.

Pulling all my dark clothes out of the hamper, I stuff them into my gym bag and lumber to my car. The air is cool, which wakes me up from my evening drowsiness. I toss the bag into my trunk and climb into my car, tapping the address into Google Maps.

Celine's sister's house is fifteen minutes away in a nice neighborhood of small family homes. Celine's car is in the driveway, but I pull up on the road outside. A wide porch area flanks the front door, with a few nice pots of flowers and shrubbery. Her niece, Lonie, has a plastic playhouse and a trike in the corner.

When I make it off the sidewalk with my bag held high on my shoulder, Celine's standing in the open doorway. She has her hair drawn into a high ponytail with wispy bits framing her face. There's a pen stuck in it and a deep v grooved between her brows. I wait for her to thank me for making the trip, but she doesn't. Instead, as I get close, she presses a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth and puts out her hands for the bag.

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