Page 63 of Huge Games

"Yes," she whispers. Her nipples tighten, poking the fabric of her sports bra, and she presses her thighs together. I shouldn't work us both up this way, but I can't resist it. She brings out the wickedness in me so perfectly.

Dropping her hands, I adjust my hard-on.

Celine is red-faced and flustered, just the way I like her.

"I have to go," I tell her.

"Can I come with you? I told Gab we can go to the gym together this morning."

That explains the outfit. "Sure."

Mom has a day off. It should feel weird to rock up at home with a girl, but Celine's different. She's already part of the family, in a way.

We make the drive with the windows down. The wind whips at Celine's hair, and she smiles into the breeze like a happy dog leaning its head out of the window. She finds music she likes on my phone, and we blast it, singing loudly and not caring who can hear us when we stop at the lights.

I laugh and feel a wave of happiness surge inside me, unfamiliar and brilliant. Before Germany, this was my constant state of being. I'd hang out with Kain, Blake, and Dalton, and somehow, we'd always be able to find a way to turn even the most boring of situations into something hilarious.

I felt comfortable in my own skin and in my surroundings.

The build-up to going to Germany had been mixed. The job opportunity was too good to turn down, but I was filled with regret at leaving my family and friends behind. I told myself that it wouldn't be for long. Just a year, maybe two. Enough time to get some experience under my belt. Enough time to work out who I am when I'm not surrounded by everything that's familiar.

It had been much shorter than that and returning felt like failure.

I didn't have a chance to settle into my new life or go through any of the self-discovery I had hoped for. I fell into the trap of a new relationship and let all my goals fall by the wayside. And when it all went wrong, I returned with my tail between my legs.

But Celine, Elias, and Dornan have brought some joy back to my life. I feel rooted again, as weird as it sounds. And happy.

We pull up outside my house, and I look at the place that has been my family home since before I can remember. The familiarity of walking up the front path and putting my key in the lock is like a balm. Celine bounds behind me on her bubble trainers. In the hallway, she looks around, her eyes trailing the family pictures with a new interest. "You were such a cute kid." She points at a photo of Gab and me when I was around nine and Gab was around four. With our summer tans and white-blond hair, we look like a pair of cherubs.

"Cute adult, too." I grin and wink, and Celine smiles before her eyes drift to a point over my shoulder, and her face falls a little.

"Travis?"

I turn at my Mom's voice, detecting a strangeness to the way she said my name. "Mom, you know Celine."

"Of course. Gabriella's upstairs." She glances back into the den. "Travis, there is someone here to see you."

If it was someone Mom knew, she wouldn't say it that way. She'd say Blake is here. So it must be someone she doesn't know, and I have no idea who that might be.

Celine's still standing next to me, and it's as if she can sense something's off, too.

"Who, Mom?"

"Lina from Germany?"

She says it like a question, and my heart seems to thud in one big, weird pulse and drop to the floor. All the darkness I felt when I got on the plane from Berlin and managed to push into the recesses of my mind barrels forward.

Celine's hand rests on my arm, and I turn to her like she's my safety in a warzone. "Are you okay?" she asks.

My head moves from side to side of its own volition, and Celine, picking up on my sudden change in mood, still makes no move to climb the stairs. Instead, she lets her fingers slide into mine.

Mom's gaze drops to where we're now joined, and her lips part like she wants to say something, but we're all trapped in a vortex of the silence that swirls around when things remain unsaid.

"I'll make coffee," Mom says eventually. "And I have blueberry muffins. Would you like one, Celine?"

"Sure."

My feet won't propel me forward even though I know I need to follow Mom and face the woman I flew over an ocean to escape.

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