Everyone else at the table freezes, all of us holding our breath, poised for battle. Becca has no idea what she’s started. Ransom looks down at his noodle spattered suit before raising his eyes to Becca. “This means war,” he says coldly, a sinister smile erupting on his face.
From Holly’s other side, Colt screams, “I’ll save you Becca!” before launching a slice of pizza across the table at Ransom, who easily ducks.
Jonas sighs heavily. “Not another one.”
“Another one what?” Holly asks. I realize she’s tense, but the guys are long past caring there’s an audience.
I’m about to explain when Colton yells, “Food Fight!”
The words are like an electric charge, striking everyone at the table. Holly gasps as I dive in front of her, wrapping myself around her as the food starts flying. I hear her suck in a breath. It explodes out when the first slap of curry hits the back of my head and slides down, plopping into her lap. My chuckles turn into full belly laughs as I feel more splatters. The guys are howling with laughter, and I hear Becca cackle, “I’m a ninja, motherfucker. You gotta try harder than that to get me!”
The chaos around me stills as Holly’s small hands rise and grip my sides, slowly sliding them up under my arms. My entire body hardens as I focus in on that small, soft touch. I tilt my head until I can see her eyes. They’re darting side to side, trying to look around me. I don’t want to risk her getting hit accidentally, so I stay wrapped around her.
A pile of noodles rains down on me, some of them hooking over my ears, slapping wetly on my cheek. Holly reaches up and pulls at the noodles, watching as they stretch, then slide off my ear. Then she snorts, giggles, and sinks down in her chair in a puddle of laughter. The sound is free and joyous.
I’ll start a million food fights if it means hearing her laugh like this.
13
HOLLY
When the food finally stops flying, Micah carries me to the island, coming back with a wet cloth. He carefully wipes food droplets off my cheek, my hair, and my shoulder. His touch is featherlight.
I stay still, not wanting his careful care of me to stop, but predictably, my anxiety rises and I pull away. He smiles, carrying me back to the bedroom where Becca helps me change my dirty pyjamas. Once he had me settled on the couch, he moved back to the dining room, helping the others clean up. The guys all know where the cleaning supplies are. They work like a well-oiled machine, gently shooing a snacking Minnie away, making it pretty clear that this is not their first food fight.
I laugh again, thinking about it. I never would have imagined that this group of grown-up men would play like that. The part of me used to living in poverty is dying inside watching them scoop so much food into the garbage can. I could have fed myself for a week on what they’re garbaging.
I’ve eaten worse, and it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve eaten food from the floor. Brent used to dump my dinner plate on the floor after a particularly frustrating day at work. He’d sit at there, boots crossed under the table, eating his meal while forcing me to scoop mine off the floor with my hands. My stomach would be in knots, knowing it’s just a prelude to a beating, but I would force myself to eat slowly and deliberately, hoping that maybe he’d cool off and I could avoid the pain. It never worked, but I lived in hope that it might.
Hope.
That was the only thing keeping me moving most days.
The guys are still laughing as Micah hands out garbage bags. My breath stutters in my chest and I sink down into the couch until I’m peeking over the top. The men are all stripping out of their clothes, shoving them into the garbage bags. Becca strips off her shirt and leggings, leaving her in a tank top and boy shorts, the cut of the material emphasizing her strong body and heavy breasts, then runs towards me, diving over the back of the couch to flop at the other end. She crawls down the couch until she’s snuggled up next to me. A bouquet of Chinese, Thai and pizza wafts towards me.
“Your hair is completely covered,” I say with a laugh.
Her grin is manic. “It was worth it. That was so much fun. Do you…” She drifts off as her gaze snags on the men. Kade’s joined the others, stripping off until the hard planes of his body are revealed.
The look on Becca’s face makes me blush. She’s looking at him like she wants to devour him. I let my eyes trace over him quickly, but don’t linger. It seems wrong to look at my friend’s boyfriend when he’s naked. He’s wearing his boxers, but still. I slide down a little lower, studying the long limbs and powerful muscles of all the guys. I didn’t think men looked like that in real life, not unless they lived in a gym.
While all the men are big, the shortest still over six feet, it’s easy to see the differences. Kade and Colton are clearly the most muscular, both of them looking like they could bench press a train. But Colton’s muscles seem to have muscles. I wonder how he makes it through the door. The other men are slightly leaner, like, bench press a car instead of a train lean, and equally beautiful. My eyes are dancing over the array of tattoos covering their bodies when Micah walks past the others. Busy handing out the garbage bags, he’s still wearing his dirty clothes. The front, where he was pressed up against me, is still mostly clean, but his entire back is covered in stains and food particles. I shift in my seat, remembering the way it felt, having his big, laughing body covering me. The way his body shook with his laughter. How good it felt.
I shift my eyes quickly to Becca, worried she’ll call me out for staring, but she’s completely focused on Kade, mumbling something about ties and climbing, so I go back to gawking. As I turn back, a laughing Micah reaches back and pulls his t-shirt over his head.
I was wrong. Micah’s bigger, more muscular than Kade for sure, but not quite as big as Colton.
He shifts, peering at the seat of his sweats, shaking his head and dropping his pants, stepping out of them, kicking them up in the air and catching them. My greedy eyes sweep over his form, from the dusting of hair on his legs, skipping over what’s hidden by his boxer briefs to the line of dark hair traveling out from his waistband. My fingers twitch, wondering what that hair might feel like under my fingertips, wanting to touch and stroke. I never felt like this with Brent, not even on our wedding night, before everything turned bad. This heat, this fascination, is new.
I thought I was being sneaky, but when I look a little higher, I meet Micah’s laughing eyes. He winks, and with a cough I carefully slide all the way down until I’m lying on the couch. I slap my hands over my blazing cheeks, groaning in embarrassment.
A giggling Becca’s weight drops beside me on the wide couch. I elbow her in the side, glaring at her to shut up, but of course it doesn’t work.
“He caught you looking!” she teases, shoving me back. “Micah and Holly, sitting in a tree, k— oomph.” Her tongue comes out and licks the hand I slapped over her mouth.
“Ew,” I squeal. “You’re disgusting!”
Becca pokes her tongue out, then settles her head next to mine. We’re pressed together tightly in a safe little bubble.
