Page 53 of Wanna Play A Game?

“Whoa,” Miles chuckles, steadying me. He pulls me between his spread legs and leans me against his warm chest. He grabsthe comb from the bedside table and grabs a section of hair. He’s gentle and soothing despite all the tangles. It makes tingles roll over me.

I swallow. “You’re good at that.”

He hums, “I used to do it a lot.”

A sharp pang of…something cuts through me. Of course, he’s had a girlfriend. Do any of these men have girlfriends?

Miles must sense me stiffening, and he chuckles. “For my mom. Are you jealous, shadow?”

Oh, shit. Heat flushes along my cheeks. “No. And that’s weird. Isn't your mom supposed to brushyourhair?”

Miles grabs another chunk of hair, causing another delicious tingle to run across my scalp. My body feels slightly fuzzy. Despite that, his touch causes shivers to roll down my back.

“Well…yeah.” Silence sits between us. He continues combing.

I don’t know why, and maybe it’s the drugs, but I feel…nostalgic. I haven’t had anyone play with my hair in…well, forever.

I whisper, “I always wanted to practice hair. But I didn’t have a sister to practice on. Or a mom.”

Miles’ fingers tickle the very back of my neck before getting another clump.

Delicious comfort and fatigue fill me. I blink slowly.

“My mom,” Miles clears his throat before adding, “would come home from her shift late at night and always pass out on the couch. Her hair was always a mess.” He drops some stickers into a pile he’s created beside me. “Sometimes, I’d crawl up with her and comb her hair. That was the only time I got with her. After my dad left, she was always working.”

I look at my hands. Miles continues to work. I want to ask what happened to his dad.

“So,” Miles says. “Sawyer hasn’t told me anything about you.”

“Besides the fact he hates me?” I huff.

“Listen,” Miles chuckles and digs his finger into my side. I struggle weakly to get away.

“You’re not doing a very good job of charming your captor into letting you go.”

He says it like a joke, but the air goes still, and my stomach sinks. Because that’s exactly what’s going on.

I clear my throat. “Yeah, can’t fail at that. You might kill me.”

Miles’ voice lowers, “I won’t kill you, Cali.”

“Sure.” I close my eyes again. “I didn’t call in Ryder or whatever you guys think.”

He traces his finger along my forehead. “Okay.”

We’re quiet for a bit. Then he says, “Tell me about yourself.”

I frown. “I don’t know what there is to say. I work as a hairstylist. I rent. I have a sassy cat who is fat and way too spoiled.” A lump forms in the back of my throat. But no. I refuse to cry. I’ll see him again. I’ll earn enough points to get back.

Miles hums, “Boyfriend?”

I scoff. “No.”

It might be just me, but it feels like he relaxes a bit.

I ask, “What about you?”

“Yeah, I have two,” he chuckles.