What was surprising was that Nero didn’t have to carry me through the game, because I actually scored about a third of our points. Plus, I assisted Nero with his spikes.
I cheered, my palms splashing water at Nero as I chanted, “We won” over and over.
Nero just stood there, a wide smile on his face, and he met my palm when I threw my hand in the air for a high five.
“Congratulations.” I heard Dex say from behind me as he and Siege seemed to have crossed to our side of the net, both of them with their hands on their waists.
“Thank you,” I said, stopping to boast since Dex seemed to have accepted their defeat well.
Ah, men without fragile egos.
It’s sad that I found it hot because how rare must this trait be that the bare minimum ends up looking sexy?
“You did so great, too,” I said, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek, not wanting to tease my guys any further than necessary.
“So, what do you want as your prize?” Siege asked, pulling me closer by my wrist, and throwing my arm over his shoulders. My legs moved of their own accord, jumping to wrap them around his waist.
I looked at Nero, shrugging. “Do you have anything already in mind?”
“Not yet, nope.”
I nodded. “We’ll just keep them in our pockets, then. We’ll use it once we think of something.”
Who knew both our reserve wishes would be used that very same night?
12
COSETTE
Every time we would gather around the dining table, I couldn’t stop thinking about what we had done on it the night before. In the heat of the moment, it felt hot and sexy to do those things, but now, I couldn’t help but feel like we had desecrated the dining table or something.
It was only natural that I would immediately look inward and consider the reasons behind the way I was feeling. Considering my upbringing, it seems to originate from my father’s Catholic faith, and in our household, the place where you eat is sacred.
My dad is actually very lenient with me when it comes to these beliefs these days. He accepted the fact that there was a point in my life that I didn’t want to attend mass with him anymore, when we used to do it every Sunday. It’s not that I stopped believing, no. I was just getting irked about a certain priest at our church mixing his personal beliefs with what was supposed to be divine teaching.
Regardless of that, my father would still have brought me up in a manner that was deeply rooted in Catholicism. Therefore, the dining table is the only place we eat together, without exception. I’m also not supposed to text or watch anything—unlike this generation of iPad kids—on the table while eating because a meal with family is sacred.
I know I’ve been breaking a lot of the rules I grew up with, though, because he’s been absent for a while now. But last night? It was on a whole other level.
God, I’m sorry for doing sexual acts on a dining table.
And I’m sorry that I’m now kicking my boyfriend under the table because he keeps on giving me dirty glances to say he’s been thinking about what we did last night, too.
I looked towards Siege, wondering why he’s not helping his best friend at teasing me, and I saw him with his phone in hand, texting.
Maybe we didn’t have the same set of dinner table rules growing up.
“Everything okay?” I asked Siege as I popped a piece of the roast chicken that was our dinner for tonight by the amazing Clint.
“Yeah. Dex and I need to head out after dinner, is all,” he said, giving me a tight grin as he set his phone face down on the table. He then grabbed his utensils again, continuing his meal.
I was beginning to grow concerned about Siege whenever he would be quiet these days, wondering if it’s just the pressure from Exodus, or if my closeness with Dex—sometimes, Nero—is really bothering him more than I know.
“Can I ask where you’re going?” I hated that my voice was so soft, sounding so cautious. And Siege picked up on it, shaking his head.
“Of course, little vixen. You should know by now you can ask me anything.”
I suppose I was just making a mountain out of a molehill.
