I can't even hold it together. I start laughing before Emmet's expression fully settles into the kind of slow, deadly glare that would make most people reconsider their life choices.
Ezra, unfortunately, is not like most people.
“You've got to be joking,” Elliot says with a choked laugh. “Emmet doesn't speak to women unless it's Mum, Millie, or Aria. And even then, it's mostly grunts. Maybe a hiss if he's feeling chatty.”
River chokes on his drink.
Ethan pushes his glasses up, nodding thoughtfully. “Statistically accurate.”
“I hate all of you,” Emmet says boredly.
It's true. He doesn't speak much.
I've also never known him to have an actual girlfriend. No dates or anything.
But he's definitely not a virgin.
I know that for a fact because once, I found a pair of very small, very lacy thongs in his bedroom. I made the mistake of holding them up in front of him and asking if they were his.
Which resulted in a black eye.
Touchy subject, so I never asked again.
“Is anyone actually playing this game?” I ask, looking around the table.
Nobody is, because nobody has cards, as they've all been forgotten.
River is building a pyramid out of discarded cards.
The only person playing is Elliot.
I narrow my eyes at him. “You have shit cards, don't you?” I accuse.
No reaction.
Not even a blink.
The man could run a criminal empire with that poker face.
River leans over to peek at his hand. Elliot smoothly lifts the cards out of sight without even glancing at him.
Interesting.
Ezra squints. “Oh, he's plotting. That's his plotting face.”
“He always has that face,” I mutter.
“I have a beautiful face, thank you very much.”
We’re still locked in a staring contest across the table, both of us clutching our cards. Neither of us blinks.
“Can’t we just play Twister instead?” Ezra cuts in.
I don't even look at him, but I do notice Ethan turns his head toward his twin with another glare.
“That is a terrible idea.”
“Not if we had some girls here,” He argues back, grinning. “Hey, Riv, where's Willow?”
