Corinne’s shufflingMonopoly money like a loan shark, board laid open, tokens clattering across the table. Arrow stretches out, rolling his shoulders, smirking like he’s already accepted defeat.
April sits next to me, hip pressed firm against mine. Every time she leans forward to roll the dice, her hair brushes my jaw. I can’t even think straight.
Corinne fans out her bills. “Listen up, dirtbags. The winner gets leftovers. Loser does the dishes.”
Arrow groans, “I don’t even wanna play anymore.”
Corinne grins, all teeth. “You want to pussy out, or just admit defeat now?”
April’s eyes go wide, but there’s something wicked in her smile. “Oh, I’m in. Hope you’re both ready to cry.”
She wastes no time, buying Baltic and Mediterranean right off the bat. I try to stay focused, but every time her hand touches mine—passing money…game pieces—I lose track of what’s happening.
Arrow keeps landing on my shitty properties. “Ben! Are you fucking with the dice, some voodoo shit?”
Corinne slaps the table. “Babe, he couldn’t fix a sandwich, much less a game. He’s too busy trying to flirt with April.”
Arrow makes a wounded noise, like I shot his dog. “She’s cleaning us out, man. I’m hemorrhaging cash over here.”
April counts out bills, feigning innocence. “I’m just playing the long game.”
Corinne laughs. “Don’t let the sweet voice fool you. She’s a killer.”
It spirals from there…deals made and broken, alliances crumbling, my nephew passed out in the bouncer, one arm thrown over his head like a tiny gangsta flipping us off. Every time April leans in to whisper strategy, her lips graze my ear.
Fuck, I’m not going to survive this night.
Corinne’s ruthless, but April keeps up. She buys Park Place, then Boardwalk, then builds hotels so fast it turns my stomach.
I groan when I land on her spot. “Come on, April. Mercy rule?”
She smirks. “Should have thought about that before you underestimated me.”
I shove some bills her way, pretending it hurts, but honestly? I just want to see the pride lighting up her face. She’s never looked this socially alive.
Arrow’s down to his last dollar, finally folding, flinging his cards in the air. “I give up. I’m going to start a commune in the mountains. No more capitalism. No more board games.”
Corinne cackles, shuffles the bank toward her lap. “That’s loser talk.”
April and I are neck and neck now, but she slaughters me in the end. Renting hotels, buying me out, draining my stack. Every time I hand her money, she flashes that smile, eyes bright and wicked.
Finally, Corinne throws up her hands. “All right, I concede. April, you’re officially inducted into the winner’s circle. Arrow, you’re on dish duty. You too, Ben.”
Arrow mutters all the way to the kitchen, but he’s smiling. Even Corinne looks relaxed, the tension gone from her jaw. The whole house is humming with that post-game night glow, everyone a little drunk on good food and camaraderie.
April helps me scrape plates, hands brushing as we stack them by the sink. I want to corner her right here, pin her against the fridge and kiss her until she’s breathless, but Arrow’s next to us, going on about property taxes.
April leans in. “Are you sure you’re not mad I beat you in Monopoly?”
I can’t help it, I slide a hand around her waist, pull her close. “Hell no, I’m not mad. I was impressed. A little aroused.”
She makes a face, half-mortified, half-thrilled, then almost drops a fork in the trash. “You’re ridiculous.”
I dip my head to make sure she doesn’t miss what I’m about to say. “You love it.”
Corinne clears her throat from the doorway. “Okay, lovebirds, I hate to be a party pooper, but this mama is exhausted. April, it was nice meeting you.”
Arrow’s perched on the couch, baby tucked in the crook of his arm, snoring softly. Corinne’s already halfway down the hall. “Don’t keep her out too late, Ben.”
