Down to Ash (#Dirtysexygeeks Book 2) (11 page)

Her stomach did a little flip. Jesus. She was stupid. Ash should have just gone home, but it was too late to back out.

*****

The usual suspects had all descended on Grady's, except for Oliver. He was on a deadline to turn in new material for his graphic novel. Victor settled deeper in the couch as he kicked Wade's ass in
Modern Warfare 3: Ghost.
Porter and Grady watched. Kind of.

Victor cut his gaze from the TV for a moment when Grady damn near broke his neck to look outside to his patio where Ash and Eva had disappeared with big-ass wine glasses.

Because Victor couldn't help it, he said to his friend, “You know that spells trouble for you.”

“What?” Grady asked absently, finally bringing his attention back inside.

“Pretty soon, more of her friends are going to come over. You'll find Kotex in your cabinet one day. Then your shoe rack will be hers.”

The other man snorted. “The Kotex has already made its invasion.” He didn't sound disgruntled about it, but if any of them were going to settle down and get married, the most likely candidate would be Grady.

Wade shifted next to him on the couch, sighing. “It's the end of an era. I would be sad, but I've been on the Internet. I've saved every pussy-whipped joke I've found for ammunition. I'm just waiting for the right openings. It's become my life's purpose.”

Grady pushed his glasses up with his middle finger. “When was the last time you even went out on a date?”

“Times like this, I wish we weren't related because I could say shit like 'Last night…with your mom.'”

His brother shuddered. “Don't worry, I'll get you something for your carpal tunnel.” He made a jacking off gesture and his smile widened. “It's because I care.”

“Boys, boys,” Porter said, coming out of the kitchen carrying a plate piled high with food. “Settle your arguments like men and kill each other in the game.”

Vic's amusement at the conversation waned as his shoulder muscles tried to climb up to his neck. The shit show had begun the moment he'd walked into Grady's. He sat on the couch as though nothing had changed—like he still belonged. To make it worse, he could tell Porter was worried that he was suffering from another episode.

Victor's instinct was to confess. To take the beating he deserved and hope like hell his friends still wanted to be friends. If he did, he could lose his family-by-choice.
So relax, dumb ass. Don't think about the fact you fucked his sister.

Rather than confess, Victor asked, “Did you leave any food?”

“Crumbs.” Porter bit into a chili dog as he made his way back to his chair. “The girls ate and I figured the rest of you should know better by now.”

Victor could feel Wade's gaze pinned on him.

“You seem on edge,” Wade said.

Victor glared back. “Not sleeping well.”

His friend gave him a knowing smirk. “Dreams keeping you up at night?”

Victor intensified his glare and hoped it said
Fuck off and die
. “No more than yours.”

That shut up Wade up, but his friend tossed his controller to Grady who caught it with ease. “Kill him in my place,” he said to his brother. “I'm going to scrounge up what's left of the food.”

After Wade disappeared into the kitchen, Porter snorted. “In about five seconds he's going to be pissed.”

It took three seconds. “Fucking Porter!”

They all laughed, and finally, Victor could relax. He wasn't going to let himself lose his circle. He couldn't. They kept him sane.

The patio door slid open, and the room seemed to fill with the scent of peaches. Memories, lust, need—all of it wrapped a hand around his stomach and squeezed. Victor didn't have to look to know the scent was from Ash.

She passed behind him without a word and went to Porter's chair. She stole a Buffalo wing before settling on the chair's arm.

“Done bonding?” Porter asked her.

“Her sister called.” She winced. “From the sounds of it, I thought she could use some privacy. And I just want to say, thank you for only being a little unreasonable.”

Her gaze slid to Victor. He forced himself to look away first and not get sucked in. Grady groaned and rose from his seat. He'd often played mediator between Eva and her sister Lauren. Victor didn't know why. Lauren wasn't worth the trouble. But Eva found mending the relationship important and that meant so did Grady.

“And they've gotten better,” Grady said. “Still...Someone else take over?”

Victor caught movement in the corner of his eye. Ash had put out her hand. Surprise flickered over Grady's face. Ash never played with them. Finally he shrugged and he tossed the controller to her.

Victor paused the game, his brows rising. “I thought you didn't play crap like
Warfare
or
Saint's Row
.”

She shook her side bangs back from her face. “Doesn't mean I don't know how to play it and I'm pretty sure I can beat you.”

Victor scoffed at the shit-talk. Porter put his plate down, looking between the two of them with a frown furrowing his brows. “When did you guys talk about games?”

“Work today,” Ash rushed to answer. “He disapproved of the WoW on my work computer.”

“Huh,” was all Porter said before he went back to eating.

Victor tensed again, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Ash didn't even blink.

He could make a big deal of the situation or beat her. “All right. It's your funeral, princess.”

Ash tutted at the subtle insult. “Now, Porter, watch and learn.”

Within five minutes, Victor knew he was in trouble. She'd killed half his team all while stealing food off her brother's plate. Soon, Victor was perched, tense, at the edge of the couch, because she'd found him.

Even Porter had stopped eating. Wade had come out the kitchen to watch.

Another five minutes and the game was over. Ash had beaten the shit out of him while paying only half attention to the game. No one in the house had ever beaten him.
No
one.

They all stared at her slack-jawed.

She handed her brother the controller. “You guys ate all the food and I'm hungry again. Plus, since you guys ate, that likely means a farting contest will be happening soon. So, catch you later?”

Porter murmured, “Bet you'd win that one, too.”

As Ash gave her brother a harsh glare, Victor shook his head. “Best two out of three?”

She tsked, but he could see her cocky smirk fighting its way through. “We could do the best out of ten rounds and I will beat you every time.”

Wade walked up to her, opened his wallet, and held up a hundred dollar bill. “This is yours if you kick his ass ten games straight.”

She plucked the money from his hand, and—no surprise—stuffed the cash into her bra. Porter frowned at the action, his disapproval clear at her actions. She shrugged as though to say,
“They’re just boobs
.”

Ash said, “This is going to be fun.”

She'd just beaten him without batting an eye. She was smart, sexy, and a fucking gamer. Yeah, she apparently lived a whole life they hadn't known anything about. Ash was tantalizingly whole
without
the Goon Squad.

The revelation was not going to help him want her less. Fuck. And of all days, why did she feel the need to game with them? So many times, she’d breezed into Grady's and just watched.

Have we ever invited her to play?

He didn't realized he'd been staring intently at her until Porter cleared his throat.

Victor settled back on the couch, facing the screen once again. “You can't win ten straight. That's impossible.”

Porter picked up his plate. “He was looking at you like you broke his brain,” he said to Ash. “This is going to be good.”

Wade said, “I'm calling Oliver. He can't miss this. This is going to be legendary.”

No. It wasn't. Victor hadn’t known just how fucked he was until that moment. He tried to relax into the cushions, an impossible feat. Ash was his dream girl. Of course, he could never have her and remain friends with the Goon Squad. Another impossible feat. Yeah, they’d had their fights over the years. It wasn't Utopia but they didn't lie to each other. They never broke the brotherhood code, unspoken but known.

“Are we playing or what?” Ash asked, her smile bright. She obviously didn’t care that the evening could end in disaster.

“Sure,” his mouth said. His brain couldn't catch up.

“You don't sound excited,” she teased. “That's okay. I'll be nice and let you get close to winning.”

Despite the tension, he laughed. “You talk so much shit.”

Porter muttered, “Short people always do.”

A knot formed in Victor’s gut. He and Ash could have that rapport. If only...But Victor had stopped being a dreamer a long time ago.

Wade plopped onto the couch, bringing his phone closer to his mouth. “Oliver, you there?”

“Yup,” Oliver answered, his voice booming through Wade's speakerphone function. “What's the opening wager?”

“A hundred.”

Wade threw back, “Two Benjamin Franklins says he takes the next game.”

Ash caught Victor's gaze, her grin widening. “Oh, poor baby,” she said. “Oliver's going to lose his hard-earned money.”

Fitting, because Victor already was. He couldn't have both her and his friends. He had to make a choice, but tonight—he was going to have tonight.

*****

The next morning, Ash strolled into her office and every single nerve ending tingled before her gaze could settle on her guest.

Vic sat in the visitor's chair, his stare hard. His green shirt could have been military-issue from the shade, and his jeans were dark. From the looks of them, both were new, but she knew him, though. He probably wore tough, scuffed boots along with them.

Her skin prickled with goose bumps as though she were standing too close to live wires. Would she ever get over the shock of seeing him? Probably not. He was all male and filled with mystery that gave him an air of irresistible danger.

Not all of his air of mystery had anything to do with him keeping secrets. She knew more than he thought she did. It was just that damn wall around him. No matter how much grit or rope she had, she'd never scale or break through it. Good thing he wasn't the only one good at hiding emotions.

With a cheeriness meant to make him clench his teeth, she said, “Morning, Vic!”

He didn't offer a greeting. He kept his belligerent pose in the chair across from her desk, his eyes opaque and fathomless.

Again, not surprising. He was a sore loser. She'd whooped his ass ten games straight and had even earned three hundred dollars.

Wade had baited Oliver into making a thousand-dollar wager on whether or not Vic could break her winning streak. Vic hadn't. Wade had given her a winner's fee. She'd been a sore winner and detailed aloud all the things she'd buy.

If only that were the sole reason Vic was disgruntled.

Since it wasn't, she broadened her smile. “When someone says 'morning,' you should at least grumble back.”

He
narrowed his eyes for just a moment. “As long as I've known you, you've never played with us. Why yesterday?”

She threw her purse into the bottom drawer of her desk, starting her morning ritual even though her hands had begun to tremble at his question. Why did they need to rehash the evening, of all things? They still hadn't skipped down memory lane after they had had sex. In her honest opinion, they needed to.

Okay.

Okay.

She didn't want to answer the question. Whenever she thought of the answer, fear trickled along her pulse. Ash and reckless went way back. She hadn't been impulsive at Grady’s. She'd been herself, without apology, with her brother's friends. A real first because she'd never bothered to stake her claim in their group before.

She kept her bright tone. “My morning's going good so far even though I'd kill for some coffee.”

He reached down. Two seconds later he placed a cup on her desk. Well, she could only assume it was coffee. The liquid resembled tar in a cup.

She gestured to it. “I beat you yesterday and today you want to kill me with that?”

Not even a ghost of a smile graced his face. “Coffee, black, large. Drink it.”

Not for the first time, she realized why they were evenly matched. Her brother and the rest of the Goon Squad fell for her bubbly personality—not that it was false, but it was just the surface of her. Vic saw through her bullshit. He cut through it and could piss her off with a single word that could force her to drop her guard and fight back just as dirty.

“I drink this high-octane sludge and then answer your question about why I decided to play
Warfare
?”

“Yup.” Judging from the stubborn jut of his jawline, he wasn't going to leave until she told him why.

She didn't bother to pick up the drink. It would likely burn a hole through her stomach. But where to start? She had wanted to play with him—to have an excuse to look at him when his friends were around. She’d wanted what she couldn't have, so she'd stolen it.

She sighed. No point in lying. He'd sniff out the truth if she tried. “You, Grady, and Wade had the best games, and I was left at home alone with Porter's Nintendo NES, Sega, GameCube...shall I go on?”

“That only explains your skills up until you turned eighteen.”

Her heart skittered at his rough tone. Hell, at what he could reveal with the simple questions. “Why is this important?”

“Answer me.” No give in his voice, just hard eyes. When she didn't speak, he added, “You're acting differently.”

He was right. She knew that, but God she didn't regret it. They had all laughed and joked and had fun at Grady's. How could she want to take those moments back? Their shared game day, hell, their relationship was all muddled in her head. She wanted Vic back in her bed. He was already in her life. What more did she need?

She averted her gaze, not able to hold his stare. “You brought me coffee. That's the very definition of acting differently.”

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug, that too a belligerent movement. His annoyance didn't have to be stated. “I'm squatting in your office. I'm not shaking up the status quo. You did. In that simple act of playing a game, you did.”