Page 46 of The Game
He shakes his head, swinging the door to his room open. “Please, don’t do anything that’ll get you in trouble, Cecelia, and no hockey players.”
“Whatever you say, bro. Don’t worry about me.”
She tugs on my arm, skipping down the stairs and taking me with her in the wake of her personality. Not what I was expecting.
“You’d think I was wearing nothing but lingerie by the way my brother is going on. This is a perfectly legitimate costume. Not even a hint of skin. Not that it’s any of his concern.” She waves her arms up and down the white and black suit that looks like it could be painted on.
In general, I’m not about shaming women for wearing anything they choose, but thinking of either of my sisters wearing that does make me a little uncomfortable.
I scrunch up my face. “I have sisters, so I get where your brother is coming from.”
She scoffs at me. “Of course. You guys have all got to stick together. So, where’s this girlfriend of yours?” The heat and noise intensify as soon as we hit the first floor.
“I told her I’d grab her a drink, so I’m going to hit the kitchen first.”
She trails behind me as I head for the big blue cooler where Dev stashed the non-alcoholic stuff, and rifle through it until I find a Coke. “Want one?” Soothing cool water drips off the can as I shake it at Cecelia.
She snorts. “No thanks. This is a party, after all, right?”
I wince as she heads for one of the blue coolers that has all the booze, but since I was planning on grabbing myself a beer, I guess I can’t be judgy.
She pulls out a White Claw, and it lets out a slow hiss as she snaps it open. “No laws.”
“If your brother asks me, I’m claiming ignorance of where you got that.”
“I’m a grown ass twenty-one year old woman. I can make my own decisions. Thank you very much. Thinks he can control me, since he’s two minutes older.”
“That’s all well and good, but he’s my captain, and I can’t afford to inspire his wrath, so I’m pleading the fifth.” Especially since I’ve been riding this careful line between really going allin with the team and remaining on the outside. But the more time I’ve been spending with the time, the more I realize how lonely I’ve been. It’s a good feeling even though letting them in scares the shit out of me.
It’s hard to identify anyone amid all the writhing bodies, but Jazz’s bright white costume stands out in the crowd. She’s on the dance floor and at first all I see are those full hips swaying to the pounding beat. When it registers that there is a pair of large hands resting on the bare skin at her midriff, a burning knot settles in my gut. I can feel the anger swelling up that I try my best to keep on lock down.
I drag in a shaky breath, counting down from five to one in my head. The anger is still simmering when I get to one and open my eyes. I shove through the crowded bodies stuffed into our tv room until I get to Jazz. Her back twitches under the hand I place on it, and she tilts her head back, smiling and pulling out of Rob’s grip when she sees me.
“C’mon, Jazz. You promised me a dance. Aren’t you going to at least finish the song?”
I see red when he grabs her hip again and my hand is trembling with the urge to karate chop his hand.
“Hands off my girlfriend, man. I’ve got someone who wants to meet her.”
He mutters something under his breath but releases his hold on her. I grab her hand because it helps ease the shaking, pulling her back through the crowd to find Cecelia.
It’s not hard. Didn’t take her long to find someone to piss her brother off with, which seems to be her goal in life. She’s gother arms twined around the neck of some guy as she slithers around in that slinky suit. If Beau saw her now, he’d probably drag her off the dance floor and lock her up, but she’s not my sister. I tap her on the shoulder, and she immediately releases the disappointed looking guy, spinning around and clapping her hands together.
“Is this Jazz?”
Jazz quirks her brow up with a curious assessment.
“Yup, wanna hit the kitchen. Or maybe the porch?”
“Porch would be amazing. I’m sweltering.” Jazz says fanning her face that’s gone pink with the heat and exertion.
A blast of cool air hits us as we step outside. I’m surprised there’s no one else out here, but the large deck in the back has more furniture, so maybe that’s where the other partygoers who need to cool down have congregated.
Jazz makes a beeline for the big wooden porch swing, giggling as it slips out from under her when she tries to sit down. I throw my arms out to catch her before she hits the ground, my hands catching on her top causing it to ride up her torso. A tantalizing amount of bare skin and a hint of pink lace have me staring for too long. Fuck.
She glances down, mouth popping open, so I grip the slippery fabric and yank it back down to cover her. I lift her up to settle her on the seat, sitting down next to her as far away as I can get.
She sprawls out, dropping her arms behind the seatback and tilting her head back to reveal the long, lean line of her neck. My eyes lock on that exposed skin and my tongue darts out tolick my lips. All I can think about is how she’d taste under my tongue, my lips. Whether she’d like some soft nibbles under her jawline.