Page 20 of Holding Onto You (Burnt Ashes #2)

Mac snorts into her water. “Let me guess… you lost a bet to my brother, too?”

The air shifts like someone pulled the plug on the room’s energy.

Everyone stills.

“You remembered that?” Trey asks softly.

Mac shakes her head. “No. Logan told me.”

Trey, ever the king of terrible timing, adds, “Actually… I was thinking of getting my dick pierced.”

“Jesus Christ,” Sam mutters.

“I don’t think I could go through with it, though,” Trey adds, scratching his neck.

Mac grins. “Maybe you just need to lose a bet to me.”

Every head in the room whips toward her.

“No,” we all say at once. Dead serious. Like she just invoked a dark ritual.

She blinks. “What?”

Trey’s already halfway off the chair, hands raised like we’re pointing weapons at him. “I never told her to say that. I did not tell her to say that.”

I narrow my eyes, my fork raised halfway to my mouth. The room’s frozen like she’s already spoken the ritual and bound us in oaths. She looks confused. Beautiful. Dangerous.

“Baby…” I set the fork down and tug her chair toward me with my foot, my hand sliding up her bare thigh. My voice drops. “We take wagers and challenges very seriously, angel.”

“How so?” she asks. I let out a sigh, and look to Chace, knowing he is carrier of the book of bets. Well, it was a notes app on his phone, but he did say when he had the time and inclination, he was going to have it down in hardback.

“When one of us issues a bet,” Chace says like he’s narrating a horror film, “we take it seriously.” He opens his phone and turns it to Mac.

The notes app is full of entries; each stamped with dates and punishments.

“Now that it’s been brought forward, it is officially raised with the Brotherhood of the Bets. Witnessed?”

“Witnessed,” Sam and I say at the same time, our expressions grave.

Mac blinks. “What the fuck is going on?”

I slide closer to her and press a kiss to the spot just behind her ear.

“We get bored and make each other do dumb shit. Sometimes the stakes are low, sometimes they’re…

body altering. Nipple piercings, regrettable tattoos, questionable garments.

Sam even shaved his head once—jokes on us. He liked it.”

“Tried to call tampering. Call for forfeit,” Trey mutters.

“Denied.” Chace says, completely serious. “Grievance noted, though, Logan please don’t school the challenger.”

“Judge, I was informing the challenger of the motives, as she has not previously been made aware of the Brotherhood of the Bets.”

“It’s fine,” Mac says, “Please, continue. You guys are mega weird,” She laughs. “Aren’t you?” It’s that teasing tone I love, all mischief and fire.

“Challenge made to participant T. Baker,” Chace continues. “Loss results in piercing. Lower region. And to the challenger?”

Her chin lifts. There’s a wicked glint in her eyes that makes my heart trip. “Fine. If I lose, I’ll get a nipple pierced. Easy.”

The room goes still for a second.

I pale.

I know what’s coming.

“Denied,” Chace says. “Like for like.”

“I’ll accept a tramp stamp,” Trey offers. “Or, one of those hip tattoos. Or, y’know, a hood piercing.” Trey reasons.

Chace nods. “Accepted.” “Let’s wrap this up—dinner’s getting cold.”

“Mackayla Smith, do you accept the terms of either a tattoo or a piercing in the same area?”

“She won’t,” Trey taunts. “She didn’t know what she was getting into.”

Mac flashes me a look and presses a quick kiss to my cheek. “I agree to the terms. But I pick the tattoo.”

“Fine.” Trey pouts. “But I pick the bet”

“In the name of expediency,” I say, “I suggest the game of chance. High card.”

“Done,” Chace agrees, tapping notes into his phone. “Honorable Sam, please retrieve the deck.”

Sam whistles low and pushes away from the table.

Mac leans close. “You’ll still like me with a tattoo or a piercing down there, right, Logan?”

“Angel…” I murmur, dragging my fingers down her arm. “There is no version of you I don’t want. She shivers and I feel it everywhere.

The deck of cards snaps crisply as Mac shuffles, the worn edges slipping through her fingers like muscle memory. She takes her time with it, letting the sound fill the kitchen. Familiar. Comforting. Dangerous. Like her.

“You’re awfully confident for someone who’s about to get wrecked,” Trey says, still glaring at me with mock betrayal as he slumps into the chair beside Chace.

Mac smirks, all fire and mischief.

“Shuffle’em” I say low, dragging a chair beside hers so our thighs brush under the table. The contact is deliberate. Distracting. Fucking delicious.

As she deals, I lean in. “I’m cool with the piercing by the way. I hear it…enhances things.”

She doesn’t respond, but her cheeks flush. Chace picks up the rules like he’s done this a hundred times.

“Aces are low. Face cards are eleven, twelve, thirteen. Draw one card. If it’s a tie, redraw. You can choose to keep your card, or swap it with your opponent. Begin.”

Trey draws first. Then Mac.

Trey peeks at his card and groans, “Shit. This is not looking good.”

“Too late to back out,” Chace says, watching Mac like she’s about to breathe fire. “She’s got that look.”

“House rule. Mac, keep or swap?”

She gives Trey the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen. “I’m sticking.”

“Trey?”

He slams his card face up. “Nine of Clubs, baby. Beat that!”

Mac blinks. “Just to be clear…loser gets pierced?”

“No backing out now.” Sam says, hiding his grin.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe I won!” Trey’s already cheering, half standing. “You are gonna look so badass with your—”

“I didn’t realize a nine beats a Queen…” Mac cuts in, placing her card gently on the table.

Trey freezes. “No. No fucking way.”

Queen of Hearts. That perfect smirk staring back at us like she planned it all.

Chace nods solemnly. “So it is recorded.”

“Please kill me.” Trey mutters.

“We booking it for tomorrow?” Chace asks. “I know a place. Clean. Discreet.”

“You have a piercing guy?” Trey snaps.

“Don’t we all?” Sam says, shrugging.

Trey groans again, full-body this time. “I need therapy.”

“You’ll need ice,” Mac offers casually, picking up her fork.

“Could probably use someone who can play the recorder, too.” Chace adds.

Sam blinks. “Why the recorder?”

“So he can learn how to hold his dick properly after it’s done.”

That breaks everyone. Even Trey wheezes out a laugh. We eat until the plates are empty. Mac rises to clear them and I’m right behind her, brushing my hand along the small of her back. The sound of laughter fades into the background.

We move around each other like we’ve done it for years. I dry while she rinses, hands brushing now and then. It’s easy. Intimate.

“That was really well played, angel.” I say quietly, mouth twitching.

She glances at me. “It was weird at first, but I guess kind of cute how official you all take it…does this make me part of the Brotherhood of the Bets?”

“Of course.”

That spark in her eyes softens. “Thought you’d be disappointed I didn’t lose.”

“Oh, I’m not disappointed,” I say, leaning closer. “We have a lifetime of bets to make and to lose.”

She laughs, easy and warm. “Bring it on Mr. Dale.”

“I should have known you’d play. But you never have to change yourself to keep up with us, angel.”

She wipes her hands on a towel, expression sobering. “I’m not trying to keep up. I just… I want to feel alive again.”

“With me?” I ask.

She nods.

“Then come on, angel,” I grin. “Let’s make sure our loser survives the night.”

She laughs, and I swear the sound could bring me back from the dead.

I take her hand, and together we walk back into the chaos.