Page 44 of Reap the Night
“Well, okay,” Brown Eyes says. “Roarke wonders if you want to play with us.”
Can’t Roarke ask me himself? Can he not speak? I don’t want to be rude and ask.
Roarke holds my gaze, waiting, and my cheeks heat.
“What are you playing?”
“It’s called Cast and Find,” Crush says. “We can teach you.”
He is still holding my hand. Maybe I should claim it back. Maybe, but I don’t. “I’d like that.” I smile up at him, and he smiles back, and my nerves melt. I offer the males at the table that same smile because I want them to like me. I want to make friends with Crush’s friends.
“My name’s Merry.”
“We know,” Topaz says, his lips flirting with a smile. “I’m Kalveen, this is Breyburn, and you’ve already been introduced to Roarke.” He pushes out a chair for me. “You can sit next to me. I smell the nicest.”
“Like hell you do,” Kalveen says.
“I like the way Crush smells.”
Crush tenses, and his grip on my hand freezes. I’ve said something bad. I shouldn’t have spoken.
“I’m sorry, I…” Panic tightens my throat.
“And what do I smell like?” Crush asks, his tone low and hushed.
I swallow past the knot of panic. “Wildberries and sunshine.”
Silence reigns for several beats until Kalveen breaks it. “Do you like honey milk?”
I exhale, relieved at the change in topic. “I love it!”
Breyburn holds up a jug. “Then you shall have some.”
Crush leads me to the table, and I climb up onto the chair. My feet don’t touch the floor, and I think I’ll need a cushion to be able to get my elbows resting on the table, but I make do.
“Okay, so how do we play this game?”
“I win!”I hop up and down in my seat. “That’s three in a row.”
Kalveen side-eyes me. “You’re sure you haven’t played before?”
“Positive!”
Breyburn chuckles, the low gruff tone music to my ears. “She’s a natural.”
Roarke gathers the cards into a deck then raps it on the table to get our attention before jerking his head toward the exit.
Crush sighs and pushes back his seat. “The dance is about to start.”
“Oh.” Disappointment flares in my chest, and I quickly squash it. I stayed for the dance, after all; this game and these males are simply a bonus.
“We can play another time,” Breyburn says from across the table. “You should come again next weekend.”
I look to Crush. “You have permanent VIP status here now,” he says. “And a free pass to visit Brimswood whenever you like.”
There’s something in his gaze I need to decipher, but the others are all vacating their seats, and it’s time to head back to the field.
We step through the arch into moonlight and melancholy music saturated with longing and dappled with notes that I’ve never heard.
