When we spawned, I took off toward my favorite spot to camp and quickly switched guns to my close-range shotgun. The sight on the screen didn’t trigger me in any way, and it was so nice to feel like my old self that I almost missed Brodie sneaking up behind me.
The bastard had a knife, like he thought me such a noob that I wouldn’t be able to stop him from stabbing me in the side. Swinging around the corner, I shot him point-blank in the chest, and he suffered enough damage that he was dead with one shot.
“Fuck,” he exclaimed. “Baby, you didn’t tell me you’d played before.”
“You didn’t ask,” I replied with a laugh as I took off into the map, ready to kill everyone else.
The guys watched, wide-eyed, as I took down half the field,before a sniper got in a well-placed headshot and ended my run.
Still, not bad for a first go on rusty skills. “My turn next!” Haze rumbled, holding out his hand. “I want to go against Evie.”
Oh, yeah, this was going to be fun.
33
EVELYN
After hours of gaming, I went to bed utterly exhausted. Then woke up barely ninety minutes later and lay there wide-awake and staring at the ceiling for God only knew how long. When my mind started whirling into conspiracy theories about the Sullivan family, and the Crusades seeking revenge for the dead man in the woods, I decided to get up.
The house was silent and the creak of my footsteps felt painfully loud as I made my way down the hall past Brodie’s and Haze’s rooms.
I descended the stairs carefully, avoiding the steps that I knew had the worst squeaky patches, and the faint sounds of the TV trickled through from the living room as I drew closer.
Instinct told me it was likely Haze, watching more true crime shows, maybeUnsolved Mysteries, and I smiled with happy anticipation. It had been nice watching with him last time, but things were different now. We were closer, right? He touched me, without freaking out. That had to count for something. Maybe in the dark of the night we could talk about it?
I bypassed the living room and went to the kitchen to makemyself a chamomile tea, attempting to calm my busy mind, then wandered back through to join him on the sofa.
Except…it wasn’t Haze watching TV with the volume so low it was almost muted.
“Oh. I thought you were…” I stood there, awkwardly staring with confusion. “Never mind. Sorry. I’ll just?—”
“Sit down, brat,” Connor growled, moving the cushion from the seat beside him in clear invitation.
Unable to make my brain do the braining thing, I just did as I was told and sat my ass down on the sofa beside Connor. I shifted around a little to get comfy, then took a sip of my tea while trying to work out what he was watching.
“Is this?—”
“Yes,” he snapped, cutting me off with a sharp side-scowl.
I quirked a brow, tilting my head to the side as I watched the old-school slasher flick playing on the huge TV with subtitles running. “Okay, no judgments here. This is a classic.”
He cast another sideways look my way, then sighed. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“What gave it away, Sherlock?” The snark slipped out without thought, and I pursed my lips after the fact. “Sorry. I’m getting somewhat irritated about the sleep situation. I might call my therapist tomorrow and get a new prescription for Trazadone.”
Connor just grunted, like he didn’t think it was a great idea but also didn’t want to argue about it. Instead, he turned the TV volume up a couple of clicks and we both returned our attention to the movie.
I’d be the first to admit, I fell foreverydamn jump scare ineveryscary movie and found it hard to keep my sarcastic comments to myself when the characters did particularly stupid things. Connor didn’t seem too bothered by my commentary, but I kept it mumbled, nonetheless.
When the Ghost Face killer appeared out of nowhere—forprobably the fiftieth time—I flinched and gave a little squeal, nearly spilling the last of my tea all over Connor.
“I thought you said you’d seen this,” he remarked, taking the mug from my hand and setting it aside before I could make more mess. Our fingers brushed with the motion, and I tried really hard not to read too much into it. He’d saved my life, and I was inappropriately hero worshiping. Connor didnotreciprocate that feeling and I needed to remember it.
I cleared my throat. “I have. Lots of times. It’s still scary, though. That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?”
His answer was just a firm roll of his eyes, like I was being stupid. He didn’t change the movie, though, nor did he ask me to fuck off. So that was something.
I yawned heavily some minutes later, settling down deeper into the sofa as I mumbled another sarcastic comment about the female main character runningupstairs to escape a killer. Connor snorted some sort of laugh at that, then tugged a blanket from the back of the sofa to drape over me.
