Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Oh! I know!” Killian grins and takes a swig of beer. “Have you ever had a crush on a cousin?”
“What kind of question is that?” I ask, finishing my whisky in record time. Remo is there to fill my glass, and he clinks his own against it.
“I say Killian must know something we don’t.”
Killian shrugs. “Okay, you’re right. I framed the question incorrectly. Thanks for that. So, which cousin did you have a crush on?”
Aspen lets out a delighted shriek, then pulls his feet up to the seat and covers his mouth with both hands, as if he needs to physically stop himself from saying something extremely inappropriate.
Which this question already was. Damen is likely boiling on the inside.
He gives himself time to recover by taking a shot, then spins to face us like the hero of a romance novel about to deliver a heartfelt dialogue. “I shall start by saying it was very long ago, and nothing happened.”
Okay? So, who was it?
Damen refills his glass and comes closer, poking his drink against mine with a wide smile. “Almost kissed you on the carousel one Christmas.”
The cool glass almost slides through my fingers. “What… what?”
“No waaay,” Aspen speaks, rocking back and forth on the sofa like a ball of glee. “Sooo… did your type change so much over the years?” he asks, gesturing between Killian and myself, as if that was the weirdest thing about what I’ve just heard.
Damen shakes his head. “There was a time when Corvus was very much into having fun, and making people ogle him. He even had a mohawk.”
Dalton’s eyes look like they’re about to fall out of his sockets. “No way! I need to know everything.”
No, he definitely doesn’t need to know everything about a past that almost led to my death, but what Damen said is real, nevertheless.
Damen chuckles. “I was going to save this reveal for another game, later on, but I even have a picture.”
Dalton shoots to his feet, laughing. “Show me, show me!”
To my terror, Damen goes over to a box under the wall of posters and pulls out a photo. I don’t try to stop him, because the wheels are in motion and the outcome is inevitable. I’d only seem ridiculous if I fight it at this point.
I get a glimpse from my seat, but I know exactly what photo Dalton’s looking at. Aspen’s climbing over Killian for a better look.
We were all teens under Remo’s supervision, even though he’d barely turned eighteen back then. The photo was taken before a Corpselock concert, and half the people in it didn’t even care for the music. I’ve got a black mohawk that flops to the side, because I didn’t use enough hair spray, and a full face of corpse paint. One of my eyes is smudged because I rubbed it, forgetting I was wearing makeup.
“This one’s you? Really?” Dalton asks, amazed, and I’m fighting the heat rushing to my face by imagining fresh corpses. Such an embarrassment, and worst of all—it was the last outing before wheels of fate went into motion, and I lost the ground under my feet.
“He has the same nose, so I suppose so,” I tell Dalton.
“Wow. Didn’t know I had such a rebel on my hands.”
Dalton’s urged to go next, and when he hits next to the bullseye, he does a little victory lap around the bar, grabbing a drink on the way. His happiness is infectious, and I shouldn’t care, but it makes me so proud that the guys seem to like him.
When Remo throws a dart, it ends up in white, and Damen sits back with a smirk, the first one to ask.
“So now that we know you’re gay, what’s your deal, Remo? What’s your type? Do you have someone in another city or something?”
“Only one question!” Aspen pipes up like he’s law-abiding all of a sudden.
“Okay, okay. What’s your type?”
I can’t help myself and lean my head on my victor’s shoulder as I eye my newly outed cousin stand there with a fading black eye, and both hands on his hips. I don’t know what to expect. He’s never introduced me to anyone, regardless of gender, and I’m not stupid enough to believe any stereotypes would apply to a guy like him.
I’m almost disappointed when instead of answering a question he takes a long drink and eyes Dalton. “So, what’s the dare?”
Aspen whistles, all red-faced. “Oh, fuck! That freaky?”
Okay, he’s a little idiot, but I’ve drunk enough tonight to laugh.
Dalton opens his mouth but Killian is the first to speak. “Strip and dance for us!”
This time even Aspen makes a face. “He’s my cousin, man!”
Killian shrugs. “Well, he’s not mine.”
Dalton snorts. “Sorry, boss, I wanna see that.”
Strangely, I’m not even jealous. It just seems like a way to poke fun at Remo, who might be regretting his choices. Still, once a more sensuous ballad comes on, he gives up on trying to wait it out and stirs his hips.