The Dating Games Series Volume One

by T. K. Leigh

  “Okay.” Chloe’s gaze flickers between Asher and me, able to sense he played a role in the incident. “There’s obviously a story here. I need to hear it.”

  “Fine.” I shrug, acting as if the night isn’t permanently etched in my mind…and my heart. I’d never told Chloe the exact details of the night my relationship with Jessie ended. It was just easier to let everyone draw their own conclusions based on the few tidbits I provided, pretending to be too distraught to discuss it at length. By the time the dust settled, our breakup was old news.

  My shoulders squared, I face her, steeling myself to get through this without giving too much away. “It was Christmas break my junior year of college. I was spending it in Connecticut with my family. Jessie was in Massachusetts. I had planned to visit him, but decided to surprise him and go early.”

  “Jessie? Your brother?” Lincoln asks, looking at Asher.

  “Yes. They were, well…” Stammering, he rubs his hands over his shorts. “They were—”

  “Engaged,” I blurt out, not caring if he knows. It was years ago. Jessie doesn’t matter. Or he shouldn’t. But it’s impossible to write him off, especially when my past and present have collided the past twenty-four hours. “Until that night.” I swallow hard before my expression brightens, continuing the story. “Their parents are snowbirds who flee the cold north for the south every winter. The guys usually went down to Florida for Christmas. Well, Jessie was getting back into town that day. Asher was already back, since he was a music teacher and school had resumed. Anyway, I told Asher my plan to surprise Jessie when he got home that day.”

  I steal a glimpse at Asher, who stares at me furtively, brows bunched together. Not wanting to raise anyone’s suspicions, I embellish the story a little.

  “I had this entire scenario in my head. At first, it all did go according to plan. I even made Jessie the lasagna he loved, thinking he’d be hungry after traveling all day. When I heard the car pull into the driveway, I went into the dining room, taking a page from Julia Roberts’ character in Pretty Woman. You know, when she surprised Edward wearing a tie…and that’s it. Sexy, right?” My expression falls. “Until Jessie walked into the house and I could hear moans and giggles.”

  “Oh, Iz,” Chloe exhales.

  “He tried to apologize, promise it was just a one-time thing, but in my heart, I knew that wasn’t the case, that it had probably been going on a lot longer, especially considering she was the one he ran to the second he landed in Boston, not me. So I stormed out of there. After getting dressed, of course. I was a mess and not thinking clearly. I was so convinced he was the perfect man for me,” I lie, not wanting Chloe to poke holes in my story. It’s not a complete fabrication. At one point, I did think he was the perfect man for me. Just not at that time. “As I tried to figure out what to do, I passed a bar.”

  “Which just so happened to be where my band was performing that night,” Asher interjects, flashing me a smile, although it doesn’t reach his eyes. I can feel his unspoken question about why I’m leaving out one rather important detail about our breakup. Maybe it’s easier to put the blame on Jessie than myself. Or maybe I’ve told this version of the story so many times I can’t be sure what the truth is. “Around the time we finished our first set, I looked up to see her sitting at the bar, some punk putting his hands all over her. But she was too drunk to realize what was going on.”

  “Not one of my finer moments.”

  “I knew some kind of shit had to go down for her to be there when she was supposed to be with Jessie. So I hauled her out of there before something untoward happened. Canceled the rest of our gig that night, much to the displeasure of the bar’s owner, and took her to my place to sober up.”

  He swallows hard, and I can tell he’s thinking of what happened next. How he comforted me, told me everything happens for a reason. How I took that advice to heart, thinking maybe there was a reason I’d ended up in that bar. Then how I almost kissed him, but he stopped me, telling me I was drunk and upset, that he refused to take advantage of me.

  “The next morning, as he helped me nurse one of the worst hangovers of all time, I told him what happened,” I explain. “To which he said…” I trail off, blinking as the words come rushing back, words I’d forgotten in the haze of everything.

  “You deserve to be with someone who looks at you every day as if they won the lottery.” His eyes lock with mine, a dozen emotions swirling in his mahogany depths. Sympathy. Admiration. Devotion. All things I shouldn’t see from him. But I do. They were there when he uttered those words to me the first time, too, but I’d refused to acknowledge them, his rejection from the previous night still stinging. Or maybe I wasn’t supposed to see them yet. Maybe it wasn’t our time yet.

  Is it our time now?

  I quickly look away, snapping out of whatever trance Asher’s mere presence places over me. “So that’s how I was carried out of a bar. Who’s next? It’s your turn, isn’t it, Chloe?”

  She doesn’t say anything at first, simply gapes at me. I can see the questions in her stare. I narrow my eyes, an unspoken warning not to press the topic.

  “Okay then.” She straightens as Lincoln sets the timer. “Never have I ever given or received a lap dance.”

  “Try again,” I taunt, thankful for the distraction. “Already asked.”

  “Crap. That’s right.” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, staring into the distance as she searches the recesses of her mind for something that hasn’t been said and at least one person has done. I’m glad she’s in the proverbial hot seat, because my mind’s coming up blank, too. All the beers I’ve consumed tonight certainly haven’t helped.

  “Ten seconds, Chloe,” Lincoln warns, waving his phone in front of her.

  “Okay, okay.” She passes him a wry smile, the wheels spinning in her head. “Never have I ever gotten freaky in an elevator.” She brings her beer to her mouth, taking a small sip, although I doubt she’s actually drinking. She refuses to admit it, but Chloe’s biggest fear is turning into her alcoholic mother.

  I lean back into the couch, not drinking. Either does Asher. I take solace in this, the jealous monster who’s flashed her teeth a few times during the game remaining in check. For now.

  “Remember, we’re in a bubble. Circle of trust. Blackout Club and all that. It’s okay if you have.”

  I glance around the circle, everyone shaking their heads. “Looks like you earned a penalty round.”

  Chloe reaches for the dice, acting as if it’s no big deal. She tosses them onto the coffee table. When they land on SUCK and TONGUE, Asher and Lincoln whistle, their devious grins floating between Chloe and me, as I suspected they would. They’ve been itching for us to make out all night.

  Men.

  “Looks like things are about to get very interesting.” I waggle my brows.

  “I suppose they are.” She takes the bottle and spins it. Her sly glances at Lincoln every few seconds don’t escape my notice.

  As the bottle slows on Asher, I tense, the mere idea of Chloe kissing him making my stomach churn, even though there’s no doubt in my mind she’d use her pass, regardless of the fact that Asher and I aren’t a couple. There’s still an interest there. A spark. Plus, it’s girl code. Never mess around with the object of your friend’s affection.

  Can’t the same be said for Asher, though? But in his case, it’s even worse. I was once his brother’s fiancée. If we were to kiss, we’d break the bro code in every way possible.

  Then again, I’m pretty sure we’ve already broken it.

  I exhale a breath when the bottle continues past him, landing on Lincoln. I whistle, passing her a playful smirk, as he casually leans back into the couch, his dark, devilish eyes trained on Chloe.

  “You can use your pass if you want.” His deep voice has a teasing quality to it. “I’ll understand.”

  “Rules are rules. Plus, I’d rather save my pass for when I have to suck on Izzy’s chest.”

  “Please d
on’t,” Asher begs, groaning. “Use your pass if you have to touch her ear, but not that. Anything but that.” With a wink, he flashes me a boyish grin, his playfulness endearing another piece of my heart to him.

  I love how one minute, he can be so sensual, so erotic, whispering how pleasurable biting my ear is. The next, he’s the same Asher, whose full-bellied laughter surrounded me with comfort when I flipped over the boat we were trying to paddle in the lake. I thought he’d be pissed he got wet, but it didn’t seem to bother him. Nothing ever did.

  “We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it,” Chloe says, crawling toward Lincoln, straddling him, bringing her lips toward his. Apparently, this isn’t going to be just a chaste kiss. “I believe the dice have spoken.”

  I avert my eyes, feeling like I’m snooping in on a private moment between them. If what Chloe told me earlier is true, they haven’t kissed. They almost did, but then the lights snapped off, ruining their chance. Witnessing their first kiss feels invasive. And makes me a little jealous, wishing I were experiencing that same spark, same electricity, same excitement with Asher. There’s nothing like a first kiss. The buildup. The angst. The hunger for more.

  A finger brushes against my nape. I tilt my head to Asher as he rests his arm along the back of the couch, wrapping a tendril of my dark hair around a finger.

  “So, when are you going to roll those dice and have the bottle land on me?” he whispers in a gruff voice. The hairs on my nape stand on end, every synapse in my body firing.

  “There’s no guarantee the bottle will land on you,” I respond in a breathy voice. “And wouldn’t it be a shame if I rolled those dice for them to land on KISS and LIPS only to spin and have to do that to Lincoln?”

  “It certainly would.” He licks his lips, inching closer to me, but I angle away, staying slightly out of reach, taunting and teasing him. “Then perhaps I’ll just have to sabotage the bottle somehow. Use magnets so there’s no way it won’t land on me.”

  I give him a playful look of disapproval. “But that would be breaking the rules.”

  He continues to close the distance until I have nowhere to escape. “I’ve already broken the rules where you’re concerned.”

  “How so?” I know the answer. I just need to hear him say it.

  “I shouldn’t be thinking about you this way.” He traces a finger along the curve of my face, swiping my bottom lip.

  “What way?”

  “Like I’ve been starved for months, years, and have finally found a source of sustenance.” He nuzzles into the crook of my neck, inhaling. “Like I’ve been wandering the desert, and you’re the mirage promising to quench this unyielding thirst.”

  He takes my earlobe between his teeth, nibbling. This time, the sensation is much more charged, much more electric, the idea that he’s doing this because he wants to, not because the game requires him to, flaming the embers burning within.

  He locks his gaze with mine. “Like I’ve been searching my entire life for something when it’s been right in front of me all along.”

  A slight rustling cuts through the still night air, and he floats his attention across the coffee table. I follow his line of sight as Chloe breaks apart from Lincoln. I’d almost forgotten about them, too consumed by the spell Asher cast over me.

  He pulls away, helping me back to a sitting position. Just as Chloe crawls off Lincoln’s lap, Asher curves into me once more. “Regardless of whether that bottle eventually lands on me, I will be kissing you tonight, Isabella. That’s a promise. Just like I should have let you kiss me all those years ago.”

  Gasping, I shoot my wide eyes to his, feigning confusion. “I don’t know wha—”

  “Yes, you do. And I’ll be damned if I make that same mistake again.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “This game is rigged,” Lincoln states over Chloe’s feigned moans of ecstasy, her chest heaving dramatically as I blow a light stream of air onto her finger.

  “We’ve been waiting for one of you to spin the other all night,” Asher adds.

  I stand and scoot around the coffee table, smirking as I return to my position next to him on the couch.

  “When you finally do, all you have to do is blow on her finger? I feel short-changed.” He casually drapes his arm along my shoulders. This feels right, like no time at all has passed since this was a natural occurrence for us.

  “Rules are rules,” I sing, giving him a knowing look. “We can’t just make out because you want us to, hornball.” I jab him in the stomach. “If you want to see girls make out, go watch a porno.”

  His eyes darken as they rake over me, narrowing in on my chest. “Want to join me?”

  “Maybe later.” I lean closer, my lips skimming against his. He sucks in a breath, his muscles tightening. “Too bad there’s no power.” I abruptly pull back, pretending to be unaffected when, deep down, I don’t know how much longer I can last without tossing out the rules and kissing him like I want to. “It’s your turn.” I hit the START button on the timer app on Lincoln’s phone. “Go.”

  Asher’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down in a hard swallow as he scrubs a hand over his face, attempting to compose himself. Expelling a long breath, he tilts his head from side to side, putting his game face on.

  “Never have I ever taken a sexy selfie.”

  “Nope!” I imitate a buzzer. “Already asked. Try again.”

  His head falls on the back of the couch, looking to the sky. This is my first trip to Vegas, but in the short time I’ve been here, I’ve never seen the evening sky so clear, even last night. Now that there’s no other light to fight with the stars, I can appreciate their brilliance.

  “Never have I ever slept with someone whose name I couldn’t remember the next morning.”

  “Try again.”

  “Shit.”

  He squeezes his eyes shut, and I can’t help but admire the concentration. It’s identical to how he looks when he’s in the middle of writing a song. The focus. The intensity. The passion. I can only imagine his expression when doing other…things that require concentration.

  “Tick-tock,” I tease.

  “Never have I ever…”

  “Five seconds,” Lincoln taunts.

  “Never have I ever…” He brings his eyes to mine, his lips parting as he struggles to come up with something. As his gaze leisurely travels down my face, his mouth curves into a sly smile.

  “Four… Three…” Lincoln continues his countdown as Asher’s smirk grows, his eyes lighting up with promise.

  One look, and I know he has no intention of saying anything that would keep him safe from rolling those dice, regardless of the risk of the bottle landing on someone else. It’s a risk he’s willing to take just to have the chance to kiss me.

  But I’d let him kiss me even if it’s not part of our game.

  “Never have I ever…,” he repeats once more, his stare never leaving mine.

  Chloe joins in with Lincoln’s countdown, their shouts reminding me I’m not alone. I force my gaze from his, counting along with them. “Two… One…”

  Swiping up the bottle, I shove it into Asher’s willing hands. “Spin it, baby.”

  He flashes me a devious smile as he returns the bottle to the table. Remembering the order we’ve been doing things all evening, he retrieves the dice and rolls. When they land on KISS and LIPS, I whistle, trying to mask the butterflies flapping in my stomach.

  “I’m so looking forward to watching you two make out.” Chloe jabs Lincoln in the side. He wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and whispering something into her ear. Judging by the blush building on her cheeks, I doubt it was something as mundane as the weather forecast for the week.

  “Time to spin, Asher,” I instruct, hoping my voice drowns out the thunderous pounding of my heart.

  “With pleasure.” Grabbing the bottle, he places it on its side and spins.

  I scoot to the edge of my seat, watching as it goes around. And around. And arou
nd. Over. And over. And over. No other spin felt like it took this long, like it’s on a perpetual roulette wheel. Now I know what gamblers go through as they watch that tiny ball travel in an excruciatingly slow circle, bouncing from number to number. It could mean the difference between going home with everything they’ve dreamed of or walking away empty-handed.

  The bottle begins to slow and my body tenses, teeth tugging at my bottom lip. My breathing increasing, the seconds stretch until it finally comes to a stop. Right in front of me. I expel my nervous energy with a laugh.

  “Well then…” Asher leans toward me, scanning me up and down. “I suppose it’s time we finally kiss.” Indecision flashes across his expression, the see-saw of his emotions returning now that we’re about to cross the proverbial point of no return. “Unless…”

  Not wanting him to retreat when we’ve finally made it here, I clutch his cheeks, forcing him to only see me. Nothing else. “I suppose it is.”

  I lower myself onto my back, bringing him on top of me. The instant his body presses to mine, all the reasons we shouldn’t be playing this dangerous game disappear, only raw need and desire consuming his entire being.

  “I suppose it is,” he repeats in a seductive tone. His lips scrape against mine, sending a delicious tremble through me. Then he nibbles on the bottom one, the unexpected jolt of pain serving to intensify the ache in my core.

  “The dice say kiss my lips, not bite them.”

  “I know.” He pulls back, his gaze locking with mine so I can see the truth in his words. “But I’ve imagined this for years now. I need to take advantage of it while I can, while we’re still in the bubble.”

  I inhale a sharp breath. “Years?” That’s all I hear, not his insinuation that once the blackout bubble vanishes, so will whatever this is. That doesn’t matter right now. All that does is this moment that’s been almost a decade in the making.

  “Yes, Iz.” He nuzzles his nose against mine, the simple gesture making my heart expand so much it’s ready to combust. “Years.”

  “What are you waiting for?”