Elizabeth Finn: Unforgiven

Bailey aimed, she held her quarter between the pad of her thumb and her middle finger, and just as she dropped her hand to bounce the quarter toward the shot glass, she caught Darren winking at her. The quarter was sent bouncing from the island over to the kitchen counter and into the sink. Shit. That wasn’t going to win her any medals.

“Asshole,” she muttered to Darren as he started chuckling.

“Drink.” He was pinning her to her place, waiting with that taunting look in his eyes that he was just far too good at giving her. She poured a small shot, likely only a third of a shot, of whiskey. She threw it back with a grimace. Her shots were getting smaller and smaller with every loss.

“Who’s up next?” Jess slurred the question. She was fading fast, and she was starting to sway in her chair on the side of the island.

“My turn, sis.” Darren stood and rounded to the end of the island where Bailey still stood. His hand found her lower back, waiting for her to step back over to the side by Jess, and Bailey nudged him with an elbow in his gut. He laughed as she stumbled her way to the sink to collect her quarter.

“Does anyone think we should kick that room of party crashers out before they tear this place apart?” Darren spoke as he started lining himself up with the shot glass.

Bailey turned toward him as she fished her quarter from the garbage disposal. “Yes. I don’t really wanna pay extra just to have this place cleaned.” Jess was too busy staring into her shot glass, and Trinity was too busy checking her makeup in a compact to care about what they were talking about.

She watched as Darren set his quarter down on the countertop and walked to the doorway that separated them from the living room, which they’d kept closed to shut out the commotion and the loud sound from the stereo. He opened the door and stepped through.

“Get out! Everyone out! Cops are at the front door!” he hollered to the room, and as his complete lie sank in, the group of party crashers could be heard hustling, panicking, and running out the sliding door to the large deck that spanned the beach side of the house. They scurried down the steps as Bailey laughed, and when Darren finally walked back in, he was chuckling. He took a quick bow as Bailey applauded. Jess pulled her head up from her somewhat drunken stupor and mumbled something incoherent. She was almost down for the count. “I think it’s time for you to hit the sack, little sis.” Darren walked to Jess, helped her up, and supported her weight as he led her upstairs, tossing over his shoulder. “I’ll be back to kick your ass in a minute.”

Trinity wasted no time abandoning Bailey and the disastrously messy kitchen, and Bailey started collecting shot glasses and bottles of liquor. When Darren walked in on her as she was standing at the sink rinsing glasses, he walked up behind her, snatched three shot glasses from the counter that she’d just rinsed, and grabbed her hand, pulling her back to the island. “We’re not done.” She smiled. She couldn’t help it. He might not be her boyfriend, but he was damn good at making her wish he was.

He was wearing his worn and faded University of Arkansas T-shirt, and she trilled with warmth as he filled their glasses, placed the empty one between them, and took the abandoned quarter from the island countertop. He was across from her with the corner of his lips pulled up seductively. “What do you think of Trinity?” He watched her carefully.

“You can’t really want me to answer that.”

“Sure I can.”

“How long have you been dating?” She wasn’t ready to give him an answer.

He smiled. “Nice avoidance. Month and a half maybe. Now answer my question.”

“Fine. Vapid. Beautiful. Very beautiful . . . Vain.”

“Fun-with-words. I like this game. So what words would you ascribe to me?”

“I don’t like this game.”

“Really, Ms. English major? I know you do.” He was taunting again. “I make this one, you play the game.” He held his quarter up again, but he refused to look away from her.

He’d been kicking her ass all night. Did she really want to do this? Hell no. Was she going to? Of course. “Fine.”

Ping.

She knew that was going to happen. “So?”

“Umm . . . nice?” He smirked. She was holding out, and he knew it.

“Come on. You can do better than that.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine . . . Moral, decent, honest, kind, caring, toying, playful, laid back, smart.” Brilliant was likely closer to the truth. “Handsome.” Stunningly handsome in fact, but there was no way she was going to admit that. “Very handsome.” It came out whisper quiet. He watched her impassively, but the deep and steady rise and fall of his chest said something else. She wasn’t sure what, but there was more to his calm reaction than he was showing her. “Your turn.” She still couldn’t seem to get her voice to rise higher than a whisper.

He finally broke his expressionless stare and smiled gently at her. “Perhaps another night. I might get myself in trouble tonight with this game.” He winked as he snatched the quarter from the glass between them. “Drink.” Now he was whispering.

She wasn’t sure what to make of his words. Was he afraid he’d hurt her feelings by describing her? Or was it something else entirely? She wanted to think it was something else entirely, and there were times . . .

As she took the quarter from his outstretched hand, she tried to let go of her curiosity. If she pushed it, he wouldn’t give in. She knew him well enough after years of being his sister’s friend to know that much.

“How’s your junior year been?”

She looked up from her aim to see him studying her.

“Boring, pointless, easy . . . penniless?” She rolled her eyes with that one. It was a bit of a stretch, and he started chuckling. She obviously wasn’t done with the game. “And you? Second year of medical school?”

“Hmm . . . Hard, busy, interesting, long, exhausting . . . terrifying.” His gaze dropped from hers momentarily with his last word, but when he looked back up to her, he was smiling again.

“When do you start killing people?” She gave her best smirk, and he laughed.

“Next year. I’ll spend my last two years in the hospital for the most part and then a few years of residency after that. Hopefully not killing people, but we’ll see.”

She took her aim again, bounced, overshot the shot glass, and his hand snatched the quarter midair. “Drink . . . twice.”

“Twice?” Her voice was incredulous.

“Uh . . . yeah. One for missing and one for my catch.”

Bailey downed her shot glass and then shook her head. “I have to go to bed. Too much for me.”

“Chicken.”

“Yep.”

They stood at the same time, abandoning the last three glasses between them. They were both swaying slightly as they walked upstairs together.

“Good night.” His voice was quiet as he stopped at her bedroom door with her.

“Good night.” She slipped through the door, sighing as it closed behind her. He always left her body flushed and shivering in his wake, and warmth was pulsing through her groin—also very normal around him.

Bailey pulled the large slider open that led to the second-floor balcony that ran along the beach side of the house just as the first-floor balcony did. It allowed a person to walk between the three beach-facing bedrooms on the floor. She might be drunk, but she wasn’t ready to sleep, and as she walked out onto the deck, she stared out to the bright moon over the ocean. It was beautiful here. She could live in such a place. Maybe someday. She was only a junior after all, just as Jess was at the University of Arkansas. Darren was enrolled there as well, but he was far beyond them—medical school after all.