Becoming Us Again by C. M. Stunich

Author:C. M. Stunich [Stunich, C. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sarian Royal
Published: 2019-05-19T04:00:00+00:00

“So tell me when you got the fox?” I ask, tossing over my kings and wrinkling up my nose as I count Gill's cards. That asshole is too good at reading people—he's got five sets of cards lying in groups of four on the nightstand between us. Me, I've got two. Gilleon is absolutely winning this game of Go Fish.

“Do you have any eights?” he asks me, and I shake my head, listening to the soft murmur of the rom-com we've got playing in the background. Probably not the best choice of movie, but it was that, a raunchy comedy with the word sex in the title, or porn. So … pretty much stuck between a rock and a hard place. I hate that that phrase makes me think of Gill, of being trapped between his rock solid body and the hard mattress beneath me.

“Go fish,” I tell him and watch as he draws a glossy card and adds it to his hand.

“I got this,” he says, pointing at his left arm with his handful of cards and smiling, “about two years after I left. Getting ink was one of the few things that made me feel alive again. I liked the pain, the whole artistic process of it.” I study the wicked fox tattoo with its double tails and the dark gray shadows that make up its eyes. The piece is big, wrapping around the raven and the skull that decorate Gilleon's bicep. The more I look at his sleeve, the more I like it.

“Got any fives?” I ask and he grunts, passing over a single card. I grin and slap the four of them down on the table. “Any queens?”

“Just one,” he whispers and goose bumps break out across my arms. I take the damn card without meeting his eyes and add it to my hand, ignoring the innuendo in his words. “Tell me about Mathis,” Gill asks randomly, continuing our trend of quid pro quo. I feel like Clarice Starling in The Silence of the Lambs, only worse because Gill's ten times scarier to me than Hannibal Lecter. Gill has love in his eyes and that's the most dangerous thing there is.

“He was nice, cute, available.” I study my cards and let my eyes drift over to Gilleon. He's watching me, of course, studying my face for clues. “You're sure he's alright?” I ask, feeling guilty again for what happened. Gill's no lightweight; that punch he threw must've hurt.

“He's fine. You can even call him if you want. Like I said, we don't have to worry about the authorities, and Karl already knows you're with me.” Gill grumbles this last bit and then grits his teeth. I'm not sure if the expression's for Karl or for Mathis.

“Sevens?” I ask and Gill shakes his head.

“Go fish.”

I draw a card and get what I'm asking for, flashing it to him with a smile.

“Tell me why Karl Rousseau hasn't flipped his lid over a hundred million in diamonds,” I say, praying that Gilleon will finally give in and forget about being so close-lipped.

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