Page 31 of These Wicked Games (Wicked Sins #1)

“Whoa, easy. Just joking, Oli.” Atlas groans, cradling his head, tiredness etched in his features. “I can’t talk anymore. My brain has a heartbeat. Grey, take over.”

“He’s right. You guys need to put your past behind you. ”

If only he knew how behind us we put it last night. Behind. In front. On Andre’s fucking knees. Shit, I need to think about something else. “You know it’s not that easy.”

“You sure he even did it?” I stop short at Atlas’s question.

“I thought you were supposed to be silent?”

“What!? I’m just saying. He seems like an okay dude.”

Yeah, I’d thought so too at one point. “I know he switched the labels. He took our cups.” The tiny black hearts all over his cup, then with my name on the label.

“I know it was him.” Who else would have done it?

The doctor? That’s stupid, and illegal on so many levels.

What doesn’t make sense is why Andre did it?

I think part of me is starting to doubt, and it just brings more questions. I just want to know what happened that day. None of it makes sense to me.

“Maybe he’s changed. People do shitty things when they’re scared,” Grey tries to reason.

That’s the thing, though. Andre wasn’t scared, he didn’t give a shit.

I’d thought that was weird. Had he always planned to switch our labels?

My mother had called, though, and he couldn’t have known she was going to.

That gave him the opportunity to do it. Maybe he would have just found some other excuse to take my cup.

Now my brain hurts. “I want to stop talking about this.”

We reach the corner store, and the smell of breakfast sandwiches and incense turn my stomach. A short man sits behind the counter, his eyes widening a touch. Seeing three giant strangers has to be intimidating. “Uh, hello, gentlemen.”

“Oh, gentlemen. Fancy.” Atlas practically bounces up to the counter like a puppy. “Please give me the biggest, greasiest bacon, egg, and cheese breakfast sandwich you got. Do not skimp on the cheese. Extra hot sauce.”

The store seems to have a mixture of a lot of different things. Glass bongs sit in a glass case as I pass them. There’s food. I grab a bag of salt and vinegar chips for the car ride to the airport. Turning into an isle, I feel Grey follow behind me. “Nice hickey.”

My neck goes cold. “What?”

“Your neck is littered with hickeys, dude. You didn’t notice?” He smirks.

“Oh.” I rub my neck as if I can feel them. “I hooked up with a chick at The Charm Box.”

“Weird.”

“Why’s that?”

“That was back in New York and they weren’t there yesterday.” I frown. What is he—

“Maybe they just took a bit to show up.”

He smirks, walking past me. Does he . . . No, he can’t know. I need to find a mirror. I have no idea how to use makeup to conceal them. Does it even matter? Everyone will just assume I fucked someone. Not a big deal.

Not like they’d think it was Andre.

This line of thought brings me back to last night. Filling his throat. Choking him with that belt while he sucked me off. The way his hand moved along his gorgeous cock.

Wow. Okay. First time I’ve had that thought.

While the thought is foreign it isn’t untrue.

Aesthetically, he is beautiful to look at.

I didn’t have to be gentle either. Andre didn’t want me to be.

He wanted me to choke him, make him gag, and rough him up as he came all over the floor.

I had the urge to taste it. Instead, I shoved my fingers down his throat while he sucked my release off them.

Okay, I need to shut this shit down. These sweatpants aren’t subtle and the last thing I need is to play boner roulette inside this convenience store. It was good. Blew off some steam. Now it’s done.

Right. It’s done, right? Whatever this is, its done.

Something catches my eye as I pass down another isle.

A row of adult coloring books fill the magazine rack, and next to it are coloring pencils and markers.

I grab the markers then look at the books.

I choose one that has a bunch of big cats in intricate detail and one with swearwords in the middle of patterns and designs.

Andre was coloring last night when I came in.

I was watching him for a minute before I stepped onto the balcony. He looked at peace.

He looked happy.

I flip through the books, eying the pages.

These would take me hours to do. Tucking the book under my arm, I try to find my friends.

I hear moaning and realize Atlas is inhaling his sandwich at a tiny table.

Grey is across from him, but there’s no room for me to sit, so I stand, watching the animal I’ve befriended.

“Be careful, he looks like he’s about to fuck that sandwich,” I say to Grey. “You may be in the splash zone.”

“It’s so good,” Atlas says around a mouthful, actual tears prickling his eyes. Fuck, maybe I need one. I had left early last night despite Grey’s and Atlas’s protests. How much did he drink after I left?

“What do you have?” I look at Grey and realize he means the books.

“Coloring books. ”

“Since when do you color?”

“I love to color.” I glare. He cocks a blond brow at me. “Fuck off. Stop questioning everything I do, then giving me that look.”

“What look?”

“The look of judgment.”

“What look of judgment?”

“You habe a whook,” Atlas says, mouth full.

Grey sits up straighter, his eyes narrowing on me. “I do not have a look.”

“It’s the dad look you get. The incoming speech look.” Atlas finishes up his sandwich then whines, “I may pass out again until it’s time to leave. Why did I drink so much?”

“Come on, I’ll buy you a road sandwich.” They get up and we walk to the counter. I order two sandwiches and pay for the coloring book and markers. I feel eyes on my fucking neck.

I keep my own eyes forward. “Knock it off.” The attendant startles as I hand him my credit card. “Him, behind me. Not you. Sorry.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Grey says.

“I can feel the look.” The attendant looks up behind me. “He’s giving me a look, right?”

The attendant smirks a little then nods, handing me my card back.

When we’ve waited another ten minutes for Atlas’s second sandwich and my first, we walk back in silence.

Atlas thanks me, taking his sandwich and giving me a hug.

Oh yeah, someone is sick. I walk toward my hall, freezing as fingers lace around my arm. “What?”

Grey’s quiet for a moment, and I don’t like the searching in his eyes. It’s like he’s peeling back layers of my brain, searching for all my secrets. Either that or I’m just paranoid. I keep nothing from Grey, but I can’t tell him this. “What’s going on with you?”

“What?” I pull my arm out of his grip. “Nothing. Just tired. Why?”

“I know this shit with Andre is unfair. I can’t imagine how this all feels.

If you want to talk to someone, talk to me.

You know I have your back. Always. About anything.

” I know this, but still this is . . . this is different.

How would I even begin to explain this when I don’t even know myself what’s happening.

The anger is still there. It’s there, and it’s as painful as ever. Now it hurts for different reasons. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.” And that’s the truth, as vague as it is. I don’t know what’s going on. “I don’t know. When I do, you’ll be the first person to know.”

While I tried to delay going back, now I just want to escape my friend’s eyes.

“Okay.” He surprises me, pulling me in for a hug.

“I mean it, Oli. Anything. I’m here. You can tell me anything.

” I open my mouth to speak, but he turns, leaving me there stunned.

Does he know? Suspect? How would he even get there?

With Grey’s words in my mind I make my way back down to my room. I open the door slowly, expecting Andre to still be passed out. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed as I walk in, still in his briefs. My brain is clearly broken. My eyes go to the imprint behind the fabric.

Dammit.

There’s this awkward charge that flows between us and I don’t know what to do.

Fighting with him is easy, fucking him was easy.

I don’t know how to do this, whatever the fuck this part is.

Maybe if he would just apologize, I could learn to forgive him, but not once has he ever. He’s always just denied it was him.

Maybe . . . it wasn’t.

Yep. Broken brain.

Whatever, I push that thought aside. I can’t deal with it right now. “Where did you go?” He looks at the bag I have. “Thought you freaked out again.”

“I got tired of you mouth breathing against my nipple so I went for a run.” Also, why were you even in my bed , I don’t ask. I realize I don’t even care. I should be way more bothered than I am. I don’t know how to feel. I just feel . . . I just feel . . .

Sad. Fuck, I hate this. I have no idea how to untangle the threads of our history. There’s a part of me that misses the people we were on the Titans. Then there’s the other part that reminds me it was all bullshit and he betrayed me.

What if he didn’t?

“Fuck off, I did not.” He did, but I don’t tell him that or about the slow caress of pleasure against my skin each time his warm breath blew across my chest. I don’t tell him how I wanted to pull him into me and drown in the warm spicy scent of him.

Instead I reach into the bag, holding out the books to him.

He takes them, his brows scrunching with adorable curiosity. “What’s this?”

“The secret Coke recipe.” He rolls his eyes, flipping through one book. “Thought you liked coloring?”

“You bought me this? Aw, Oli.”

“Don’t.”

He sobers, looking at the book, and a slow smile spreads on his face. “Thank you. I mean it. This is nice. I was thinking of buying more soon.” He flips through the curse word one, smiling wider. “Going to color in this one first.”

“Are you done with your other one?”

“No. Before I escaped my—” He looks up at me, snapping his mouth shut. “I mean when I moved, I left all my books at my house. I usually work in multiple at a time. Thank you.”

That’s not what he was going to say. Escaped? What is he talking about? “Sorry if you don’t like it.”

“No, this is perfect. I love animals.”

I peel off my hoodie, needing a shower. I watch the way his eyes drift over me, then I turn. “I do too.” I show him the tiger tattoo.

“Oh, believe me, I saw it.” He smirks. Something in the air becomes heavy, and his eyes drift down. I’ve always thought he had the prettiest eyes. In the privacy of my mind I’m not afraid to admit it. “Can we talk about—”

“No.” I can’t. Not yet. I still hate him.

Or at least, I hate how much I’m starting to lose that fire.

He betrayed me once and I can’t let him use me like that again.

I’m scared. More than that, I can’t go through the pain of it again.

We fucked around. Whatever this is between us is purely physical. “I can’t.”

“Fine.” He grabs the plastic bag. “Markers?”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted them too.”

“I use pencils in the books. The markers bleed sometimes. I like to shade too with the pencils, make different colors.” I grab the box, throwing them towards my suitcase. Maybe I’ll use them. Maybe I’ll give them to Grey’s niece. “Thank you, though. That was really . . . sweet.”

“I choked you with a belt. A peace offering.”

“I’m alright. I can talk just fine. ”

“Damn.” I shake my head, fighting the smile that wants to slip onto my face.

I can’t look at him, and I war with the idea of him joining me.

I could do it, and I’m almost certain he’d say yes.

I want to strip him down, push him under the hot spray, and kiss and lick every single freckle on his skin.

The thought goes up in smoke. Maybe next time.