Page 14 of By His Play

Her face is now clear of makeup and her eyes red and puffy from crying. It makes my chest ache. I wish I could do something to fix it. Her hair is piled on top of her head, ready for sleep, and she’s abandoned the contacts she wore tonight in favor of her trusty thick-rimmed glasses. She looks cute as hell.

She watches me sip my drink for a moment before her eyes move to mine.

The cream and marshmallows are melting; it looks nowhere near as good as it did when I brought it in, but that doesn’t matter to her. She’s always been able to see what’s beneath the surface. It’s just one of the many things I love about her.

“Thank you,” she breathes before pulling her covers back, propping her pillows against the headboard, and climbing in.

No sooner she’s settled, than she reaches for her mug. She wraps her tiny hands around it and lifts it to her nose, inhaling a deep breath.

“So good,” she muses before taking her first sip.

Her eyes close as she savors the sweetness, and I’m hit with a strong jolt of nostalgia.

There were many times that I’d sneak into her room after practice, and we’d sit on her bed laughing our asses off about something that happened that day at school while I warmed up with one of her hot chocolates.

I always liked school, but everything about it got better once we became friends. For the first time in my life—and other than my family—I knew that someone loved me for me. It meant everything after already suffering through the discovery that kids I’d previously called friends were only using me. That was a bitter pill to swallow, but only a few weeks into our friendship I just knew that Effie was genuine.

“What are you doing?” she asks when she lowers her mug and opens her eyes.

“Uh…”

“You’re too far away,” she says, throwing the covers back for me to join her.

I glance down at myself, and then at the empty side of the bed.

I’m still dressed in jeans and a shirt from dinner.

“Wait,” I say after abandoning my mug and stalking across the room.

I pull my t-shirt off as soon as I step into the hallway, and I’m down to my boxers as I walk into the guest room.

Sorry, Grams. I chuckle to myself as I try to imagine what her reaction to me walking around in my underwear would be.

I pull a t-shirt and pair of sweats from my duffle bag and quickly return to Effie.

She’s sitting exactly where I left her, and she watches me closely as I round her bed and climb in.

“I hate being here alone. Feels so much better with company,” Effie confesses as she sinks lower, snuggling into her pillow.

“Is that in the house generally, or your bed?” I tease, knowing full well which one she means.

“No man has ever slept in this bed with me.”

“I’m more than happy to be your first,” I quip as I mimic her position and lie so that we’re face to face.

Her eyes bounce between mine before she begins to study my face.

“Penny for your thoughts,” I whisper.

“I bet women would pay thousands to be me right now.”

“Thousands? No, no chance.” Her lips part to argue, but I quickly follow it up with, “I’m worth way more than that. It’s gotta be at least a million or I’m not interested.”

She laughs, but it’s not as real or as deep as I’d like.

“You’re something else, Kieran Callahan.”

“Maybe so, but you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

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