“Anything but zombies,” Max said.
“I think that’s doable.” He motioned to the large cabinet that Lukas opened next to the TV, grinning when Max looked over and froze. Inside was almost every console ever made, and all the games Quinn could get his hands on. There was even an ancient Atari that once belonged to his older brother.
“Holy shit,” Max breathed, stopping a few inches away as if scared to touch anything. That only lasted a moment before he grabbed the newestMario Kartand spun with a grin. “This?”
Quinn’s attention snagged on Lukas where he’d gone still again, his fingers lingering on the knob of the cabinet. “Oh, right. So, usually we make a bet,” he said, winking at Max’s suspicious look. “Since Lukas called for game night, he gets to set the terms.”
Lukas finally glanced at him, albeit briefly, before staring through the rows of games. “Loser blows the winners.”
Max fumbled the game as he whipped around to stare at Lukas, his eyes wide and a flush creeping up his neck.
Quinn couldn’t blame him; he was even more surprised. Usually their bets were making the loser eat some weird-ass food or doing the winner’s laundry for a week. Not once had they ever traded sexual favors, and he didn’t need to be a genius to realize the only difference this time was Max.
He ignored the sting of jealousy and grabbed the remote. “Fine with me. Max?”
Max made a high-pitched wheezing sound before coughing. “Sure?”
Quinn raised an eyebrow and motioned Max over, taking the game from him before grasping his chin. “You sure?” he asked. “You’re good regardless of who wins or loses?”
His face burned redder, but he met Quinn’s eyes. “Yeah. Sounds good.”
Quinn forced a grin and turned on the TV. “You good with the game?” he asked, glancing at Lukas, who hated racing games. Lukas, surprisingly, preferred co-op games, though Quinn supposed when you could shoot a target from two miles out in real life, shooter games lost their appeal. He preferred the zombie games himself. Eight years in the Marines with some asshole teams made the jump scares seem like child’s play.
“Yeah,” Lukas said, grabbing the controllers to pass to Max before hooking up the console.
Once they were set up, Quinn eyed Lukas again, tucked into the other end of the couch with Max between them. He still refused to look at either of them, but that was fine.
They took one practice round to let Max get familiar with the controls, but it was obvious from the start that he’d played before.
By the second round, Quinn realized Lukas was intentionally losing. Not that he really stood a chance with Max playing dirty despiteclaiming innocence, but Quinn knew Lukas’ play style. He would never hold on to a blue shell if he was actually serious about the game. He’d never metanyonewho could resist using the blue shell, even if they blew themselves up with it.
That was all the proof he needed. He might not have much of a chance of beating the cheating demon himself, but if Lukas wanted to lose to Max that badly, Quinn could at least ensure it happened without too much of a fight.
Max won three rounds before side-eyeing Quinn. “Are you letting me win?”
“No, you’re cheating.” He grunted as Max’s elbow jabbed his rib. Just for that, he won the next round by flopping onto Max halfway through the track and squishing him into the sofa.
Max lost his controller, trying in vain to push Quinn off. “Lukas!” he called, laughing as Quinn wiggled and shoved a pillow over his face. “Help!”
Lukas reached over and shoved a hand in Quinn’s face to push him off, his scent spiking sharply with annoyance as he glared at the screen. “We gonna play or what?”
Quinn winced and sat back, clearing his throat as he started up the next race. “Yup, sure. Final race. Winner takes all,” he said, ignoring Max and the confused look he shot at both of them. He’d figure it out himself shortly how territorial Lukas could apparently be.
They were all deathly silent for the final race. Quinn even managed to snag one of the shortcuts Max had been using the entire time, taking first for a few moments before a blue shell knocked him out. He thought it was Lukas’ for a moment, but then Max sped by him, cackling like a madman and crossing the finish line a few seconds later.
“Little cheat. How’d you get that?”
Max stuck his tongue out in answer, and Quinn nearly retaliated by biting it, but he didn’t want to risk losing his head.
“Enjoy your blowjob. I need some ice cream,” he said, setting his controller on the table as he got up.
Max squawked and grabbed his hand. “You’re not leaving,” he said, his voice a couple octaves higher.
Quinn risked a glance at Lukas, whose knuckles had gone white on his own controller. “You’re the winner.”
“I saidwinners,” Lukas snapped, his amber eyes flashing with his wolf as he finally looked at Quinn. “If you weren’t okay with the bet, you should have said so.”
“I am fine with it, but you two should enjoy yourselves.” Why were they both making such a big deal about this when he was trying to give Lukas what he wanted?
