Page 47

Crew

I was deep in a heist mission on Grand Theft Auto, racing through Vice City to steal a million dollars from some bank on the other side of the city.

I didn’t play Xbox by myself often. I used to play a lot with the guys when we still lived in the house, but I’d only played a handful of times since we moved into our apartment.

However , it was currently one of the only distractions I had.

Sitting in the common areas, all four of us, was extremely painful. It felt like I couldn’t act normal with Kota. We were stuck with acting like we still hated each other— if acting was what we were doing.

But I was finding it hard to remind myself to keep my hands off her, and every time I looked at her for too long, I was afraid Lane and Bridget would notice.

“B,” Kota spoke, “we should get some wine tonight.”

My jaw tightened, her voice immediately pulling me away from the “distraction” I’d been feeding myself. With my head forward, I kept quiet, unable to see Bridget’s reaction.

“It’s already eight, and I still need to clean my room and shower.”

A sigh rang loudly throughout the room, and I knew without looking that it came from Kota, seated on the far side of the couch.

“Wine sucks anyway,” I blurted out.

“ You suck,” she said, harsh glare burning a hole in the side of my head.

Amusement slashed across my face, my mind immediately grabbing memories of her mouth on my dick. You wanna talk about who sucks? I wanted to say but held it back.

Choking through laughter, I smirked at the TV.

Whether she was blatantly trying to ignore me or simply brush over the encounter so that we didn’t look suspicious, she turned to Lane in the kitchen. “Do you guys have practice in the morning?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“We can have a wine night tomorrow?” Bridget suggested.

Fingers pressing the buttons on the console harder than intended, I butted in, “I just said I hated wine.”

Out of my peripherals, I could see Kota swing around faster than light traveled. “No one invited you.”

“Wow.”

“I’ll have a wine night,” Lane spoke.

“Cool!” Kota shrieked.

I knew we weren’t disclosing our current arrangement with Lane and Bridget, but goddamn . If every minute we’d spent together over the last few weeks wasn’t practically branded permanently in my brain, I would’ve thought it had all been some crazy, steamy dream.

She was being brutal, the same brutal that she was when we met.

“Oh,” I complained towards the TV, “so Lane is invited and not me?”

“Exactly.”

Bridget sighed, probably rolling her eyes. “Would it kill you two to be nice to each other for five seconds?”

“Yes,” Kota said. “Yes, it would, actually.”

“I can be nice. It’s her,” I said, gesturing to Kota with my head.

I could’ve sworn I heard a small growl from beside me, a stark difference to the blushing girl standing naked in my bedroom just a few days ago.

“Don’t even,” Kota snapped.

“Mom,” I called out, “she’s being mean again!”

“Ew!” Bridget immediately let out, lightly shivering when I glanced over. “Don’t call me that.” My laughter mixed with Lane’s. “On second thought, I will down some wine right now. You all drove me to it.”

“Yes!” Kota shot up, running over to the door to grab her purse and jacket. “Let’s go grab some!”

As if second nature, I paused my game and stood to follow her. “I’ll go,” I said as nonchalantly as I could manage. “I’m getting myself beer.”

Kota and I avoided looking at each other, just glanced at our roommates carefully to see if they were going to follow.

Bridget bobbed up and down on her toes. “I, uh, I’m gonna hop in the shower actually while you guys are gone. Get that done so that I can drink, you know?”

We gave her half a nod, and the lack of disgust from Kota as we rushed out side by side was leading me to believe that maybe she didn’t mind being stuck in a car with me for ten minutes.

Maybe she wanted to be stuck near me, the same way I’d been wishing we were the only two in the room earlier.

“Do you think we were convincing enough?” I asked, slicing away the silence as I pulled out of our parking lot and headed off towards the liquor store.

Walls back up around her heart, Kota scoffed. “Did you think I was putting on a show back there?”

I can’t fucking tell, I thought.

I wanted to say yes, but the lines were blurring so much, practically interlaced like one huge knot that was impossible to undo.

Going with my gut instinct, I called her bluff. Keeping one hand on the wheel, my other shot down to her crotch, rubbing tenderly. She let out a breathy note, chest hitching.

“That’s what I thought,” I declared, pulling away, causing her to give the lightest whimper.

Whether she still hated me or not, she wanted me, so at least I had that.

I didn’t know what else to say though.

We both fell quiet, and the car was overtaken by some song on the radio.

Halfway through the song, Kota muttered, “Go to Target instead.”

“Why?”

“Bridget needs tampons.”

“Ew,” I blurted.

“Oh sorry,” she groaned through an eye roll, “I forgot about your phobia. ”

“I do not have a phobia. ”

My comment led to Kota forcing me to carry the tampon box throughout the store.

We headed to the liquor section, and I stood there for ten minutes, holding tampons and annoyed, teeth grinding as I watched Kota pace up and down the aisle as she tapped her chin, unsure of which wine to get because “they all looked so good.”

Finally, she grabbed two bottles of Moscato. Gross.

I twisted towards the beer aisle, but Kota caught my arm. “You’re trying wine.”

“I don’t like wine.”

“Too bad,” she insisted, scurrying off, leaving me with no choice but to follow her because no way in hell was I going to lose her in the store.

I groaned all the way to self-checkout, still groaning by the time we got into the car. When I parked, I gave one final groan.

“Oh, stop whining,” Kota said. “You’re gonna love it.” She reached for the handle, and instinctively, my hand shot out, stopping her. As she turned around, I met her lips, content when she melted against me.

I’d been waiting for this all fucking night. It felt like a relief to just have her close, to not have to tiptoe around our roommates. “Do we have to go inside?” I whispered against her mouth.

She sighed. “Yes.”

Truthfully, I wanted to stay in the car and mess around. Cloaked with disappointment, I followed her upstairs, and the second we both crossed the threshold into the apartment, our masks were on. Back to being enemies.

The girls brought out board game after board game, and it was taking everything in me not to glance at Kota every other minute. She changed when we got back, and her tiny frame was now swallowed up in an oversized, gray sweatshirt from high school, matched with black, sparkly pajama pants. Her hair was in pigtail braids, and she looked like the cutest, most innocent thing.

I wanted to grab her, squeeze her, pull her close and kiss the hell out of her.

But instead, I was pretending like I hated her.

It wasn’t too hard though when arguing came so naturally to us. It seemed like she found something about me to complain about during every game we played.

I’d gotten accused of cheating. Accused of not knowing the proper rules. Accused of lying about hating the wine we were drinking. Although, I’d admit, the wine was kind of good. I refused to say it aloud though and give the girls that satisfaction that they were so desperately looking for. Instead, I’d rather be accused of lying.

Kota kept scowling in my direction, scoffing each time I spoke. She could play this game all night long, but the second I had her alone later, she’d be begging me to put my hands on her.

And that was fine with me.