Page 122 of All This Time

Dilynne walks into the storage closet, retrieving the cutouts, handing two of them to Laney. “Come on, Laney. Let’s get this game set up so I can see everyone’s reactions.”

Dilynne heads back toward the party, but as Laney moves to follow her, I reach out and grab her hand, pulling her back to my chest.

“Fletcher…”

“You look so fucking sexy, Laney.” I drag my nose up the side of her neck, pausing to nibble her earlobe. “Fuck, I want to find out what’s underneath this dress.”

She turns her head to meet my eyes, a mischievous grin on her lips. “Nothing.”

“What?”

“I don’t have anything on underneath this dress, Fletcher,” she says, making me grow even harder than I already was. “That’s what you wanted from me, wasn’t it? No underwear for easier access next time we saw each other?” She rubs her nose against mine.

“Fuck, angel,” I growl out, kissing her neck. “Meet me in this closet in fifteen minutes.”

Her mischievous smile disappears. “But Fletcher… We can’t.” Her eyes bounce around the hallway. “We shouldn’t…”

“I honestly don’t give a fuck right now. I need to taste you, feel you,” I say, desperation lacing my words. “I need to know that this is real.”

She closes her eyes and sighs as my lips move down to her collarbone. “Itisreal.”

Popping my head up, our eyes meet again. “Then prove it. Meet me here in fifteen minutes.”

“Fine,” she says before I release her hand and she walks away from me, glancing over her shoulder before returning to the party.

And as I reach down to adjust my cock that might just be permanently hard at this point, I accept that I’ll probably burn in hell forwanting my best friend’s little sister. But at this point, I don’t even fucking care.

***

“Oh. My. God,” Laney says as Dilynne stands proudly in front of the cardboard cutouts of me and my three best friends.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

Laney shakes her head back and forth slowly. “I’m… I’m literally speechless. You’ve finally done something that I have no words for.”

Chuckling to myself, I cross my arms over my chest and admire Dilynne’s creativity, but only because the picture she chose for my cutout is one of my favorites. It’s from the Carolina Thunder calendar that Glenn had me sign last week, and I was Mr. April.

I wonder if Laney knows why I chose that month.

All the guests have gathered around the left side of the room where Dilynne has set up her game.

“Now, I’m sure most of you have played the classic game of Pin the Tail on the Donkey,” she starts. “Well, may I present to you, pin the object on the men of the Blackjack Brotherhood.”

Rhonan turns to me. “Who the fuck calls us that?”

Elliot wraps his arm around both of our shoulders, wedging himself between us. “I don’t know, but I fucking like it. It has pizzaz. Sounds badass, but also smart. Like we could kill you with our bare hands or know the odds of winning a hand in a card game so we don’t have to get our hands dirty at all.”

Henley rolls his eyes. “I’m so glad that y’all find this amusing.”

Elliot laughs. “The alcohol is helping.”

“Now, for the objects,” Dilynne continues, Vanna White style. “For Fletcher, you’ll be pinning the football on his junk.”

My smile falls. “What the…”

“For Rhonan, a pair of handcuffs,” she says cheekily, holding up the laminated pieces she made for each of our cutouts. “For Elliot, a gavel.” Elliot beams with pride next to me. “And for my brother, a snowboard.”

“Fuck, she nailed each one of us on the head,” Rhonan mutters beside me.