Warmth rises in my cheeks as I meet Harlow’s stare. Memories of her touch on my skin, the way she lit a fire inside me, and how achingly horny I’ve been since our last encounter. One I intend to get a little revenge for now that I have the chance.
“Her mom’s been helping me at the shop,” Harlow explains. “And I spent Christmas with them.”
“Mrs. Lewis?” Em’s face lights up. “Oh, you’re in amazing hands. She’s brilliant.”
“She is,” Harlow and I say in unison.
Harlow blushes, but I only smile proudly. My mom’s a badass, and I love when her intelligence and expertise get recognized.
“Em, is that you?” A voice calls from inside the house.
Em lights up at the sound. Harlow steps back, and Em rushes inside to greet the woman she’s crushing on with an affectionate kiss.
“You look cute,” I whisper to Harlow because she really does. She’s wearing a soft gray sweater, black jeans, and fuzzy green socks with little elves on them. They’re so unexpected for her super serious personality. I can’t help but smile at how adorable she is … even if I’m still pissed at her.
“Thank you.” She quickly checks me out, her gaze catching on my chest. I didn’t know she’d be here, but my oversized tan sweater with a deep V-cut is the perfect cozy but sensual look. The tips of Harlow’s ears turn crimson, and I promise not every outfit I own shows off my tits, but they are one of my best features, so don’t mind me flaunting them.
“You look …”
“I know.” I skip past her but still catch the heated smirk she gives me. I’d bet anything that Harlow loves when I’m cocky, because it makes it all the more rewarding when she humbles me.
Not thatshewill do the humbling tonight.
I add a little sway to my hips as I walk further into the living room. The space is small but cozy with mismatched furniture and a coffee table overflowing with board games. There’s a nice smelling white cocoa candle burning. A short Christmas tree is in the corner. Colorful-blinking lightswrapped around a bookshelf against the back wall with a couple old DVDs on the top shelf. My gaze snags on10 Things I Hate About You, and my breath catches in my throat.
I blink, and I can see us curled up under my hot pink chunky knit blanket. We watched that movie at least fifty times—much to Landon’s exasperation since we hogged the living room TV. My heart aches at the memory, but I’m pulled from my thoughts when a small white cat with black spots scampers out from behind the love seat and darts through a cracked door into a dark bedroom.
“That was Willow, ignore her,” a short Black woman with bright brown eyes and a cute, teasing smile says as she finally resurfaces from Em’s mouth. “Lord knows she’s going to ignore us.”
“Naomi, this is Lily,” Em introduces, arm still wrapped around Naomi’s waist. “Lily, Naomi.”
“Lily!” Naomi pulls out of Em’s embrace and throws her arms open wide. “I amsoglad I get to finally meet you! Emily talks about you all the time.”
I hug her back, my mind finally regaining its composure, and laugh. “Don’t believe a thing she’s said about me.”
Naomi chuckles. “But it’s only been good things.”
I give her a questioning look, and she cracks, a loud knowing laugh escaping her. I smile. “That’s what I thought.”
“We brought cookies!” Em holds up the plate Mom made for us. “Lily’s family bakes like five hundred cookies every Christmas Eve, and I stuff my face with the leftovers for days.”
Harlow and I share a look. She took home a gallon-sized Tupperware of cookies herself. I wonder if she thinks aboutme every time she eats one. Then I wonder why I care if she does.
“You definitely didn’t need to bring anything, but I won’t turn these down.” Naomi chuckles. She takes the plate to her kitchen and returns with a charcuterie board for us to snack on. Pizza will be ready in twenty minutes, and, gah, do I not miss living in a town where delivery isn’t a readily available option.
Naomi suggests we play something called Night Werewolf—I think she said?—because it’s fast.
“It’s easy,” Em says. “We can teach you how to play in like thirty seconds.”
She wasn’t kidding that the basic game play of One Night Ultimate Werewolf isn’t complicated, but it takes longer than thirty seconds. Mostly because I have a lot of questions as I think through my strategy.
Basically, there’s two teams: The two werewolves make up a team, and everyone else is a villager. Everyone gets a character card that they keep secret, and there are three extra cards that sit in the middle of the table. At the start, everyone closes their eyes, and that’s when things get interesting. The two werewolves “wake up” and get to see who the other is. Then there’s three roles that get to do cool shit. The Seer can look at one person’s card or two of the middle cards. The Robber steals the identity of someone else and gets to take a peek at the new card they robbed. Then the Troublemaker switches two people’s cards without looking at them—so messy.
After the “night” is over and we all “wake up,” there are five minutes where the villagers attempt to identify the werewolves. The werewolves try to fly under the radar and survive. At the end of the five minutes, everyone votes on a person to kill, majority rules, and the dead personflips their card. If it’s a werewolf, villagers win; a villager, werewolves win.
I am so ready to tear shit up.
The cards are dealt, and I sneak a look at mine: Werewolf. I purposely don’t react while glancing around the coffee table that Naomi cleared for us to play on. Em, on my left, takes a sip from her White Claw. Harlow’s on my right, spreading some goat cheese on a cracker before tossing it in her mouth. Naomi is across from me and catches me studying everyone. She wiggles her eyebrows conspiratorially, and I chuckle.
