Page 32 of Hard Count
Frankie jumps up and down and wraps her arms around me. “Make it hurt.”
I know I should ask something more scandalous but I’m coming up blank. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Lame,” Frankie says, with a fake cough.
He empties the content of the cup onto the ground and my heart does a backflip. That move was for me in solidarity. “Orange,” Nash answers. Then hurls a ball into the air nailing the back center cup.
Frankie snatches the cup before I can grab it to dump it out. “If I’m going to have to answer all of his questions, I need this more than then the grass needs to be watered.”
Laughing, I focus back on Nash and wait for his question. “What kind of music do you like listening to?” he asks.
Frankie throws her hands up in the air in disbelief, then grumbles, “This isn’t fair.”
“I guess it depends on my mood but I like a little of everything from R&B to country music. My favorite is probably more acoustic singer/songwriter stuff. I’m even becoming a fan of Broadway.” I hip check Frankie.
Nash nods with a smile. Frankie takes her turn missing the cup by a mile. “Next time,” I murmur and pat her on the back.
Eli steps up and nails the ball into another cup making Frankie huff in irritation. “Oh goodie, another question. Can I just take my shirt off instead?” she asks. The crowd of guys watching us play clap and encourage the idea.
Leaning on the table, Eli says, “Do it and I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here. Don’t test me, Frankie.” She whimpers beside me. I’m sure her brain—and other body parts—are being tempted with a good time right now.
Eli stares down Frankie, waiting to see what she’s going to do. “Do you need help with a question?” Asher asks. Nash and I both have to hold back our laughter.
“I’m good. Why did you stay with him so long?” he asks, not taking his eyes off her.
Frankie looks around the crowd. “I’m not answering that in front of all these people.”
“It’s not a complicated question,” he counters.
“Because I did,” she sneers. “Your turn, Drew.” She crosses her arms over her chest. Eli frowns but doesn’t press her further.
I take my shot and land it in the back corner. What do I want to know about Nash that I don’t already? “Um…what’s your guilty pleasure?” I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.
“Good one,” Frankie says.
Nash tilts his head as he leans on the table, staring at me with hooded eyes. I swallow hard and inhale a deep breath through my nose.
“Manga,” he answers.
“Are we going to call him out for lying because it’s pretty obvious thinking about ripping your clothes off on a regular basis is the truth,” Frankie says low enough only I can hear.
“I don’t even know whatmangais,” I say ignoring her.
“It’s comics or something,” Frankie answers.
Nash gasps in offense. “They aren't comics. I’ll show you my collection,” he says to me. Eli sputters a laugh. Nash’s cheeks blush and I bite my lip to keep from smiling.
“I would love to see your…collection.” I emphasize the last word and I swear he blushes more. It feels pretty good to have him weak over me for a change. He’s usually the one making me feel flush.
We go a few more rounds with all of us missing and making a few shots. We’re down to only one cup and the guys have two left on their side of the table. Frankie lines up and sinks it in. “Oh my god! I did it!” she screams, and high fives everyone within reach. You would think she figured out how to end world hunger with her over the top celebration.
She settles back into her spot beside me and narrows her eyes at Eli. “Why were you so mean to me when we first met? It’s always bothered me and now you have to tell me,” she says smugly.
“Because I was,” he replies with a smirk.
“That’s cheating!”
“That’s almost the same answer you gave him earlier,” I mumble and elbow her side. “Nash, it’s your turn for the win.”
