Page 16 of Little Paper Games
“Thanks.” I found candles quickly, having put them in my emergency kit.
“You have an emergency kit?” Kenna chortled.
“Hey, don’t tease. It’s helping us. Maybe it’ll remind you to be prepared too,” I tossed back with a smirk she probably couldn’t see.
“You got me there, boy scout!” she cackled sarcastically.
“Shut up,” I tossed back, but my tone had lost its malice.
“So, what do we do now?” she asked. It was a good question.
“Well, we can’t seem to be around each other without fighting,” I offered.
“And it’s not safe for me to go back to my place without the power,” she added.
“So, I guess we make the most of this time and pray that the power comes back on quickly?” I suggested, my mouth skewed into a half grin, half grimace.
“Or…” she trailed off, her finger tapping against her chin thoughtfully.
“I’m all ears, Red.”
“Or we drink.”
Now,thatwas a lovely idea indeed.
Chapter 8
KENNA
Idid my best to not focus on the fact that I was sitting here, on Jude-fucking-Lincoln’s sofa, with only a sheer scrap of fabric and a fuzzy blanket covering me. It was mortifying. Why hadn’t I gotten dressed? I didn’t even think about it!
Probably because I didn’t dress like this. This was not my normal. Janie. Blame fucking Janie. That sounded like a much better plan. Regardless, here I sat, scantily dressed with an assortment of booze and cocktail fixings, littering Jude’s coffee table as he poured by candlelight.
If this were any other situation with any other two people, it would have been considered a smidge romantic. Yet, it was not other people. It was me and Jude. Oil and water. Polar opposites. Oh well, at least he seemed to have good taste in booze.
And decor. I really couldn’t get over just how good this place looked. I only say that because I helped clean it out after the last tenants were kicked out. The place had been in near shambles and covered in filth. It had taken me, my parents, and the Lincoln’s days to get it all clean and sanitized again. I shivered with the strong memory of just what all they had pulled up with that carpet cleaner. One room was all it had taken for the Lincoln’s to decide to call a professional to install new carpet. It was much better now.
“What’s your poison?” he asked with a smirk. I really hated when he smirked at me. That know-it-all grin that made me just want to—No, we were actively trying tonotkill each other.
“Old fashioned, if you can muster it,” I responded with my own grin. The way his mouth hung open in shock and awe was worth every bit of that moment.
“Not bad, Red, not bad at all! It’s my favorite drink as well, so I’d like to say I’ve perfected it,” he smugly responded. Of course, he’d think that. He probably watered his drinks down with ice cubes and such.
Much to my surprise, he moved into the kitchen to a small dorm sized freezer and pulled out a set of beautiful whiskey stones.
“They won’t last us long, but a good old-fashioned will at least start the night off right, don’t you think.” Jude whipped the drinks together perfectly. If I were being honest, I may have been critiquing him pretty hard.
“What should we toast to?” I asked, shaking off the awkwardness of the moment. It was what it was.
“To not killing each other,” Jude said with a laugh, lifting his glass in the air, the whiskey stones clinking prettily.
“To pausing our animosity, at least for now,” I agreed with a giggle. This was officially the weirdest night of my life.
“Cheers,” we both stated at the same time, clinking our glasses, and sipping the sweet, smoky flavor. I took a moment, savoring its richness with my eyes closed.
“Not bad, huh?” he urged. I did my best to resist the urge to roll my eyes at him.
“It’s fair. Passable at least,” I feigned disinterest. To be honest, it was a gorgeous old fashioned. Perfectly balanced.
