Page 9 of Unwrap Me After Dark
“You proposing a truce, Liam?” Tyler’s voice carries that same edge of amusement that always makes me feel like I’m missing some private joke.
I straighten my spine. “One condition. You stop with the bullying.”
Tyler’s eyebrows shoot up. “Bullying? Is that what you think I’ve been doing?” He leans forward, elbows on his knees.
“Don’t gaslight me. You know what you do.” I hold his gaze, refusing to back down.
“Fine. No more bullying. Scout’s honor.” The smirk playing at the corners of his mouth makes my stomach clench. “What are you suggesting we do, then?”
I drain my glass and stand. “We could play a game or something.” I walk to the shelf with the board games I saw yesterday. “There’s Monopoly.”
Tyler scoffs. “I’m way too drunk for all that strategy and counting.”
“Twister?” I regret the suggestion the instant it leaves my mouth. The image of our bodies tangled together, muscles straining to hold awkward positions, flashes through my mind.
Tyler’s smile shifts into something dangerous. “Now that could be interesting.”
“Forget it,” I mutter, scanning the shelf for safer options. “Chess? Scrabble? Jenga?”
“Jenga,” Tyler decides, dragging himself up from the couch. “Simple enough, even in our current state.”
I set up the wooden tower on the coffee table while Tyler refills our glasses. My fingers are already clumsy from the alcohol, making the tower wobble before I’ve even finished stacking the pieces.
“Steady hands are key,” Tyler murmurs, settling back on the couch. “You go first.”
I stare at the tower, trying to focus through the haze of whiskey. I select a piece near the bottom, working it free. The block slides out clean, and I place it triumphantly on top.
“Not bad,” Tyler admits, studying the structure. He leans in, biceps flexing under his t-shirt as he extracts a middle piecewith casual confidence. His hands are bigger than mine, fingers longer and more dexterous. I catch myself staring and drop my gaze to the tower.
We trade moves in silence for a few rounds, the only sounds the gentle click of wood against wood and the persistent drum of rain. The tower grows unstable, swaying with each breath or movement.
“Your turn,” Tyler says after successfully placing another piece. “Let’s see those steady hands.”
I lean forward, focusing hard on a loose piece near the middle. My fingers brush against it, testing its give.
“You know, I’ve always wondered what you’d be like,” Tyler says suddenly, his voice dropping lower.
My hand freezes. “What I’d be like with what?”
“When you let go.” His eyes lock onto mine. “When you stop fighting it.”
My fingers tremble. “Fighting?”
“Whatever’s got you wound so tight.” Tyler’s gaze travels down to my mouth, then back to my eyes. “I bet you’re something else when you surrender.”
The block shifts under my unsteady fingers, and I pull back before the whole tower collapses. “Stop that. You promised no bullying.”
“This isn’t bullying,” Tyler says, his voice a low rumble. “This is just conversation.”
“It’s distraction,” I accuse.
He shrugs one shoulder. “Maybe I enjoy watching you squirm.”
I steel myself and reach for the block again, determined not to let him throw me off. I manage to extract it without disaster, but when I attempt to place it on top, my hand isn’t as steady. The tower wobbles.
“Easy,” Tyler whispers, leaning in. “Be gentle.”
My throat goes dry. The piece slides into place, but the tower tilts to one side.
