Page 34 of Reckless Hearts

Saskia raises her eyebrows at me after Louis leaves. “It’s not like you to have a repeat.”

Fuck. Those words feel exposing, especially with Seb listening in.

“What can I say? I was in the mood for something exotic tonight.”

She just raises her eyebrows. “I think I’m in the same mood.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep. I’m pretty sure there’s a ski instructor around here dying for an authentic Kiwi experience.” She tosses her blond hair, then throws me a grin. “Right, tell me what nationality I’m hunting?”

“Austrian,” I reply.

Neets is shaking her head. “You two.”

She glances over at Seb, who’s watching the whole exchange with a furrowed brow.

“It’s the game these two play sometimes. They set each other challenges for the guys they can pull. It isn’t just nationalities. Sometimes they go for quirky character traits,” Neets explains.

“I’ll never forgive Marcus for the time he made me find a guy with a unibrow,” Saskia says.

“It’s much harder for me than for Saskia because there are fewer gay and bisexual guys than straight guys,” I say.

Saskia snorts. “Yeah, whatever. I remember that night in Wanaka when I set you the challenge of South America. You did the rounds of the pubs and could only find that one guy from Brazil, remember? I’m pretty sure that guy was at least a negative two on the Kinsey scale, but you still convinced him to mess around with you.”

“It must be so hard being so irresistible,” Neets says.

I shrug nonchalantly. “It’s a cross I have to bear.”

“Do the guys know they’re part of a game?” Seb asks. His voice is so low it just penetrates the noise of the crowded pub.

I snap my head up to look at him. He’s staring back at me.

“Shit, Seb, you sound like Aunt Mildred,” Saskia says. “Marcus and I never hook up with someone without their full consent. Stop being so judgmental.”

Seb flushes. Even in the dim light, I can see the blush climbing into his cheeks.

Luckily Louis returns with a round of the bar’s infamous Ski Slope Slammers, neon-blue concoctions that are more alcohol than mixer. His eyes gleam with mischief as he hands them around.

Then he settles into the booth next to me.

“You look like you need some loosening up,” he whispers into my ear, his hand lingering on my thigh.

“Are you telling secrets over there?” Saskia asks.

“Perhaps,” Louis says with a tilt to his lips. “I was just telling Marcus about my newest tattoo.”

“Where is it?”

Louis gives a wink. “Part of the fun for Marcus is to find out.”

“I’ve been thinking of getting a tattoo,” Saskia says. “Something classy though, maybe my zodiac constellation in tiny stars across my shoulder blade.”

“Mum and Dad will freak out if you get a tattoo,” Seb says.

Saskia gives him a withering look. “It’s not their decision.” She turns to me. “What about you, Marcus? We could get one together in the States over the summer.”

The idea of permanently putting something on my skin freaks me out. Whatever you choose to put on your skin gives people a hint at what’s most important to you, and that feels too…exposing.