“It’s hard not to be!” Dalton laughs and pulls on my ear with his teeth. It’s both embarrassing and makes me feel like a teenager again so I don’t stop him.
Damen backs away to a spot marked on the floor and takes his sweet time aiming, but still ends up with a dart on a white. I guess darts isn’t the same as throwing knives.
Killian and Aspen bang on the table, and Dalton joins in. Is it childish? Yes, but then again… I’m just happy to see him excited. He doesn’t have any family left and told me that the guys he’s slept with don’t usually want to stay friends if there’s nobenefits. He’s such a social guy that he misses a sense of connection. If it takes my family to give him that, then so be it.
“Oh! I know!” Killian grins and takes a swig of beer. “Have you ever had a crush on a cousin?”
“What kind of question is that?” I ask, finishing my whisky in record time. Remo is there to fill my glass, and he clinks his own against it.
“I say Killian must know something we don’t.”
Killian shrugs. “Okay, you’re right. I framed the question incorrectly. Thanks for that. So,whichcousin did you have a crush on?”
Aspen lets out a delighted shriek, then pulls his feet up to the seat and covers his mouth with both hands, as if he needs to physically stop himself from saying something extremely inappropriate.
Which this question already was. Damen is likely boiling on the inside.
He gives himself time to recover by taking a shot, then spins to face us like the hero of a romance novel about to deliver a heartfelt dialogue. “I shall start by saying it was very long ago, and nothing happened.”
Okay? So, who was it?
Damen refills his glass and comes closer, poking his drink against mine with a wide smile. “Almost kissed you on the carousel one Christmas.”
The cool glass almost slides through my fingers. “What…what?”
“No waaay,” Aspen speaks, rocking back and forth on the sofa like a ball of glee. “Sooo… did your type change so much over the years?” he asks, gesturing between Killian and myself, as ifthatwas the weirdest thing about what I’ve just heard.
Damen shakes his head. “There was a time when Corvus was very much into having fun, and making people ogle him. He even had a mohawk.”
Dalton’s eyes look like they’re about to fall out of his sockets. “No way! I need to knoweverything.”
No, he definitely doesn’t need to know everything about a past that almost led to my death, but what Damen said is real, nevertheless.
Damen chuckles. “I was going to save this reveal for another game, later on, but I even have a picture.”
Dalton shoots to his feet, laughing. “Show me, show me!”
To my terror, Damen goes over to a box under the wall of posters and pulls out a photo. I don’t try to stop him, because the wheels are in motion and the outcome is inevitable. I’d only seem ridiculous if I fight it at this point.
I get a glimpse from my seat, but I know exactly what photo Dalton’s looking at. Aspen’s climbing over Killian for a better look.
We were all teens under Remo’s supervision, even thoughhe’dbarely turned eighteen back then. The photo was taken before a Corpselock concert, and half the people in it didn’t even care for the music. I’ve got a black mohawk that flops to the side, because I didn’t use enough hair spray, and a full face of corpse paint. One of my eyes is smudged because I rubbed it, forgetting I was wearing makeup.
“This one’s you? Really?” Dalton asks, amazed, and I’m fighting the heat rushing to my face by imagining fresh corpses. Such an embarrassment, and worst of all—it was the last outing before wheels of fate went into motion, and I lost the ground under my feet.
“He has the same nose, so I suppose so,” I tell Dalton.
“Wow. Didn’t know I had such a rebel on my hands.”
Dalton’s urged to go next, and when he hits next to the bullseye, he does a little victory lap around the bar, grabbing a drink on the way.His happiness is infectious, and I shouldn’t care, but it makes me so proud that the guys seem to like him.
When Remo throws a dart, it ends up in white, and Damen sits back with a smirk, the first one to ask.
“So now that we know you’re gay, what’s your deal, Remo? What’s your type? Do you have someone in another city or something?”
“Only one question!” Aspen pipes up like he’s law-abiding all of a sudden.
“Okay, okay. What’s your type?”
