Page 2 of Dice & Dekes

Back in high school, I let Knova down in a way she never forgave—and maybe I never deserved to be.

I cut him off by downing my shot and then pointing to the others. “That’s a shit prompt, Knight. Now you all have to take shots, too.”

Knight frowns into his empty glass. “Damn.”

“Not me. I’ve never been.” Sofia folds her hands primly on the table. She’s only had to take a couple of shots so far. Hell, she might even be sober enough to drive—not that she everwould, because she’s a goody-goody who plays it safe, hence the lack of blackmail material.

Knova refills her shot from the bottle she swiped from the bar, then gestures the bottle at her brother. He sets the shot glass on the table, and she refills his, too. They clink rims and toss both drinks back.

“Your turn,” Knova slurs. She leans toward me, her teeth bared in a wolf-like smile. She does this thing where she looks like a feral cat on the prowl—fuckingpredatory,and I love it. I wouldn’t mind being hunted by her. I imagine running through the woods with Knova on my heels, chasing her, being chased by her, what we’d do when we finally caught each other.

I’d devour her.

I’d let her devour me.

Okay, it’s official: I’m too drunk to be trusted to use my words around her. I have a bad feeling that I’m too far gone already.

I lick my lips. My eyes stray to Knova’s cleavage. She’s not wearing a bra underneath that dress, and I’m pretty sure I can see the faint outline of one nipple peeking about the edge of the fabric. I want to lick it. Bite it. Sink my teeth into her.

I can’t tell her that. Can I?

Knova snaps her fingers and gestures to her face. “Eyes up here, pervert.”

“Uh. Right.” I cover my mouth with my fist. “Take a drink if you’ve ever… if you’ve ever…”

“Shit, Viktor.” Knight cackles. “How drunkareyou?”

“How drunk areyou?” I shoot back. Not my best retort, but I’m pretty sure that my friends are just as drunk as I am. Well, except Sofia. But she’s nice, so she won’t call me out on it.

Why did I pick on someone as nice as she is?

I can’t think about that now, not when Knova’s staring into my eyes, her mouth twisted in a wicked grin.

“Take a shot if you’ve ever been too chickenshit to tell someone you loved them,” I blurt.

Knight groans. He and Sofia exchange a glance, and they both reach for their glasses. I’m only sort of paying attention to them. Instead, I’m looking at Knova, whose face falls. She reaches up for the silver chain that dips between her breasts. It’s not a fancy chain, either—it’s the pebbled kind you see on keychains. Her fingers brush the metal pendant tucked into the front of her dress. It’s a pair of dog tags, but they aren’t hers. I know, because she wears them all the time.

I wonder about them all the time too.

I want to ask her. I want to demand it. But I know if I did, she’d vanish behind that wall again, and I’m not ready to lose her. Not tonight.

This isn’t just drunk talk. This is the closest I’ve ever come to telling her the truth.

After a quiet moment, Knova’s eyes meet mine. She knocks back the shot.

“That’s another shitty prompt,” she says.

Sofia’s already refilling my glass from the communal bottle of whiskey. Dammit. I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to mix liquors, but Knova’s right. I need to take a shot, too.

The whiskey burns on the way down, and—

* * *

“—going to take Knight home,” Sofia says a couple hours later.

“Aw, c’mon.” Knova pouts. She shakes the bottle of whiskey in the air between us. “There’s still whiskey left!”

“I think he’s had enough.” Sofia gestures to Knight, who’s lying with his head in his arms, draped across the table. He’s already snoring. “I’m not carrying him back to the condo on my back.”

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