Page 3 of That Last Secret
“You can’t beat mine, Princess.” Marc chuckles from his seat.
I want to smack him in the back of the head at how he calls herPrincess. It’s fucking weird.
“I’m blowing all you bitches away.” Gigi laughs.
My eyes dart to where she sits along with everyone else sitting around the table. For an older woman, Gigi’s got a mouth on her. My favorite type of person.
“What?” Gigi chuckles. “I’m a pro at this game. You’re all going down.”
With that, we all break out into a fit of laughter.
This is my first time meeting her, but I love her already.
“Well, Gigi,” I say, but quickly stop myself, narrowing my eyes as I point in her direction. “I can call you that, right?”
“Of course, sweetheart.” She winks at me. “A fine young man like yourself can call me whatever you want. Just don’t call me late for dinner.”
“Well, well.” I sit up straighter in my seat with a smirk plastered on my face. “I’ll have you know that my card will be a favorite of yours.”
“I bet it will,Logy,” Gigi mocks the way Emiline said my name just moments ago.
Peyton clears her throat, directing the attention back to the game. “I’ll read the first card and then the answers. ‘A successful job interview begins with a firm handshake and ends with’”—she picks up the first card—“a plunger to the face.”
We all laugh, and Emiline almost spits out her drink next to me. “That was even funnier when you read it all together.” Emiline chokes, grabbing a napkin to wipe her mouth. “I gave myself away, but that one is mine. It’s what I would like to do to Logan.”
“First of all,” I say with a pointer finger in the air. “You’re not supposed to tell her it’s your card. Second of all”—I lift a second finger—“you fucking love me.”
“Never in this lifetime, Logan,” Emiline scoffs.
“Shush, you two,” Peyton says, grabbing the next card. “A successful job interview begins with a firm handshake and ends withFuck Mountain,” she says. “That’s a good one, guys.” Peyton puts the card down and pulls up the next one. She rereads the leading prompt before finishing the sentence with the card she’s holding. “Blowing some dudes in an alley.”
“Oh, fuck yeah!” I clap my hands together. “But that wasn’t mine. It was a good one, though.” I turn to see Gigi with her hand over her mouth, laughing in her seat. It was definitely hers.
Peyton rereads the prompt, and I take another sip of my whiskey, and she reveals the following answer. “Just the tip.”
“That’s all you need.” I laugh out loud, nearly choking on my drink.
“I beg to differ,” Avery adds in a serious tone. “Just the tip is a tease. You want to get a girl off, give her all the meat, Logy.”
Out of all of Peyton’s friends, Avery is most definitely the wildest of them. She has no filter and always says whatever is on her mind.
I scowl at her because this new nickname is annoying as hell.
“I second that,” Peyton’s other friend, Kali, chimes in.
“I know how to get a girl off,” I defend myself, placing a hand over my chest, even though I know I don’t need to. “And multiple times. Thank you very much.”
Marc says something, but all I hear is Emiline’s following words.
“I have to agree with them,” she says. “Just the tip does nothing.”
“My ears are bleeding, Em,” Thomas adds. “Please don’t talk about your sex life, I’m begging you.”
“She doesn’t have a sex life,” I scoff. “She’s just a baby.”
“I’m fucking twenty-one, you Lincoln Log,” Emiline says defensively.
My eyes widen. “Since when?” I groan, rubbing a hand down my face. “Good gracious. How have you two not tied her up and locked her in the basement to protect her?” I gesture to Thomas and Marc.