Page 43 of Puck My Life

“New perfume,” I murmur and rush to the kitchen, hoping that I can convince him it’s not what he thinks it is.

Shit, shit, shit.

My heart is pounding, and I’m so distracted I almost bump into Deacon’s back, just managing to avoid it at the last second.

Mal sweeps in, casting me a quick look and goes to the cupboard. “What are we cooking?”

The relief I feel when he doesn’t say or ask any questions is tremendous.

“Ooh, I have a new recipe we can try.” I pull it up and pass my phone to Mal.

He frowns when he reads like all of his attention is diverted to the activity. It takes me a minute before I realise I’m staring and look away quickly.

“It’s an approved pasta dish that your nutritionist suggested.”

Deacon’s fingers ghost up my spine, causing my whole body to break out in goosebumps. I spin warily, watching as he circles the table, leaving me with the memory of his touch.

He’s playing a game that I don’t think I can win.

Raynor wraps his arms around me, his chest to my back, and what yesterday would have been an innocent hug is now charged with a sexual tension that has me clenching my thighs. I’m aware of every part of his body that is in contact with mine. That vanilla scent has my mouth watering as it always does, but why does it seem so strong? Why are the notes so mouthwateringly clear?

“I can teach you this, and if you lose, you each lose a piece of clothing,” I reiterate and hope my voice doesn’t sound as breathless as I think it does.

Mal is only wearing shorts.

“Your heart is racing,” Raynor murmurs.

Damn his observant nature.

“I’m playing a game where I could end up naked, I’m nervous.”

It doesn’t help that I’m wearing a bra and a thong under my jeans and t-shirt. Only four pieces of clothing protect me.

“Right, first we need to get everything out.”

I stand back and wait while Mal reads out the list. Deacon and Raynor get everything out. Mal reads, instructs them while I help. But Raynor’s dirty innuendo has us all in stitches.

It’s the most fun I’ve had with the three of them in ages, and, all too soon, we’re sitting at the table, eating. There’s a candle lighting our plates. Dancing off their faces. Deacon and Mal talk about practice, while Raynor tells me about the gig he had last week.

It’s the kind of night that makes my soul ache. Because this is how it should have stayed.

When I get up to do the dishes, Raynor and Deacon take over, cleaning everything up without me asking. I clench my fist against my stomach, almost wishing they’d stop.

“All right, did we win?” Mal asks.

I nod. “You did.” I don’t know if I’m relieved they don’t have to remove clothes or not.

“Truth or dare, Vae,” Malcolm says in a husky voice.

I can feel all their eyes on me. “Truth.”

“What’s the real reason you’re leaving?”

I clamp my mouth shut and stare at him. “I can’t.”

“Do you forfeit?” Mal asks, shocked.

“I,” I look around the kitchen, but there’s no help coming. “Yes. I forfeit.”