Playing the Game

23. I Wish We Were Kissing Again

"Didn't think you'd actually show," I tell her as I sidle up beside her and take a swig from my bottle.

"Why not? It's a party," she says, smile as bright as ever. A boatload of dramatic enthusiasm enters her voice as she adds, "I love parties."

"You hate parties."

"I don't hate parties," she scoffs, her hand sailing through the air to brush off the accusation.

I can't help laughing at that. "Yes, you do. I seem to remember you telling me, rather recently, that it's not your scene."

She opens her mouth like she wants to say something but nothing comes out. Instead, she looks around the house, at the festive shenanigans that are well underway, remaining quiet as she takes it all in. Apart from the spooky shit, it's not entirely different from the party we attended a couple weeks ago, a scene I never imagined Mia coming back to so soon.

And even though I definitely hoped she would be here, I still can't help being surprised she actually showed. But what's even more surprising is her reaction to what's going on around us.

As far as the eye can see, college kids in a wild variety of stupid costumes are acting exactly how you would expect at a Halloween frat party. Drinks in hand, laughing and screaming like idiots, dancing or gyrating to the point where some of them look like they're fucking. Someone dressed as a zombie is doing a keg stand in the kitchen.

In other words, my point is being made clear. This is not Mia's scene.

However, instead of grimacing in disgust or peering around with caution, she starts giggling. Pair that with the glossy look in her eyes and the blush of heat painted across her cheekbones and nose and I officially know exactly what's going on here.

"Have you been drinking?" I ask, my words coming out dressed in shock.

"Drinking?" She throws a hand to her chest, her mouth dropping open as she attempts to appear offended at my question. "No," she adds quickly and then starts laughing again. "Maybe..."

"Uh huh."

She holds three fingers up, "I took two shots in a cheerleader's dorm. Relax, buddy."

Alrighty then. This night just took an unexpected turn.

"Wow," I blow out a breath of air, trying to digest the shock of it all. "Partying and drinking. This is a side of you I've never seen before, Tink..." In more ways than one, I think to myself as I take a close up look at how she fills out Emily's uniform, which is a touch too small for her in the best way possible. "Are you aware that you seem to have taken more than just shots from the cheerleader's dorm and you're now dressed as one of them?"

Mia groans, reality seeming to hit her for a moment as her giggles die down. "Painfully aware," she says to me. "I got roped into a uniform swap."

"I figured as much," I mutter, allowing my eyes another quick roll over her perky ensemble. The way her tits want to spill out the top, and how the sleeveless cut shows off the glimmer of muscle definition in her arms.

The sight is making me weak and I can only hope my brain is committing as much of this to memory as possible since I know I'll never see her dressed like this again. Makes me wanna ditch the beer in my hand and not drink another drop for the rest of the night to make sure I remember the way she looks right now.

"I gotta be honest," I smirk in her direction. "I think this is exactly what you need."

Her eyebrows dip together. "What do you mean?"

"You know, letting loose," I tell her. "Having some fun for once."

My words simmer in the air between us, heavy with regret when I see the face she makes at me.