Page 83 of Forged By Shadows
Exiting the room, I’d almost forgotten about Garrett until he pushes away from the wall, scaring the shit out of me.
“And here is the little minx in question,” he announces, angling my own phone’s screen to reflect a video of myself. I hold a hand up to cover my face. “Don’t be shy, Peach. Your first IG Live is a big deal.” My footsteps stall and I shoot Garrett an incredulous look.
“Are you insane?!” I hiss under my breath. Garrett’s grin grows.
“Amongst other things,” he shrugs. “Come say hi to your adoring fans.” Holding my phone at a height I can’t reach, I jab my elbow into his ribs, all the while keeping my face hidden from view. A few choice words pass my lips and when he continues to record, I make a small jump for my phone. He evades me easily. “Oh, you want this back? Come get it.”
"Garrett, I swear to—" I start, but he’s already off, ducking into the hallway.
Darting after him, I fly down the stairs at a dangerous speed. So much for protecting my ankles. I hear laughter and Huxley's voice booming, “She’s coming for you, man!” The boys are lounging on the couch, but they spring into action as Garrett bolts past them.
“Bear with me, folks! The cameraman is under duress!” Garrett shouts to his audience. Axel tries to grab him, but Garrett slips out of reach, heading towards the kitchen.
"He's heading to the back!" Dax shouts, and we all pivot, changing course like some sort of chaotic, synchronized dance. Garrett’s manic laugh echoes as he slides across the kitchen tiles, narrowly avoiding a collision with the counter and filming all the while. I’m right behind him, arm outstretched, my heart pounding. There’s no time to enjoy the thrill of the chase. Not when he’s being a fucking idiot, broadcasting me across the internet. Anyone could be watching.
“Garrett! You turn that off right now!” I shout. He’s stopped on the far side of the island, shifting every time I do in the opposite direction. I glare just as he turns the screen back on me, so I do what anyone would in the same situation. I drop to my knees out of sight. Crawling around the stools, another body meets me there. A body I never would have expected to be on all fours, his green eyes glinting with mischief.
“Follow me, I’ve got an idea.” Wyatt whispers and scuttles away. I’m half-stunned, mildly distracted by Wyatt’s jersey slipping out the back door and the kerfuffle happening between Garrett and the others.
Axel and Huxley are cornering Garrett by the refrigerator, some more tickling taking place - most of which is instigated by Axel. Warmth spreads through my chest and I linger for a while longer, enjoying the view. Axel and Garrett are like magnets, drawn together by an irresistible force. They don’t even realize how much they need each other, and I’m happy to keep subtly reminding them.
But right now - I’m firmly on the Garrett butt-kicking train. Leaving them to their distractions, I duck out undetected. Cool air hits instantly, my toes feeling the winter the most through my cotton socks. I shudder. It could be a trap, or just a horrible mistake to blindly follow Wyatt, but I can’t see that far ahead. Not as the play fighting inside is becoming rough and the shadows are nearing the glass plane.
“Here.” Wyatt unravels the coiled hose pipe fixed to the side of the house, and my own menacing smile grows. Pushing a finger against his lips, he turns the faucet as I pull a long length of the pipe free. Words are kept to a minimum, but we’re standing in close proximity, intently waiting for our target. The door handle rattles and Wyatt places an arm over my front, urging me a step back from view. Hidden around the corner, my fingers tremble on the hose until I hear the men spill out the door.
Without a particular target in mind, since beggars can’t be choosers, I step around the corner and twist the nozzle so a fast jet of water sprays over the lot of them. I only consider then that the water is ice cold. The screams are as hilarious as they are horrific. Wyatt is whooping in a way I’ve never heard, abundantly pleased with himself.
Hollering fills the backyard, until I start to scream as they all advance on me. It’s a good job the press aren’t nearby. They’d have a field day. Huxley reaches me first, grabbing the hose to yank it from my hands with ease. Twisting it around, he shoves the jet down my jumper before I can stop him. Holy fuck, it’s beyond freezing. Throwing my fists into his chest, he doesn’t budge until Wyatt switches off the faucet.
Garrett is sputtering, shaking water from his hair, but he’s still laughing, holding my phone above his head like a trophy. I seize my chance, dropping the hose and lunging forward to grab my cell. I’m successful, but earn myself a soaking wet hug from behind.
“Did you catch all of that?” Garrett leans over me to speak into my phone’s receiver. I minimize the image of myself, only to be flashed with Meg’s face.
“What the hell?” I stutter. Meg’s leaning on her fist, an amused and dopey smile on her face.
“Yeah, I caught every second,” she laughs. “You’re right, she is a real bitch when she’s on the offense. She’d be perfect on my lacrosse team.”
“It wasn’t a livestream?” I ask dully, my mind a step behind. I blame the cold seeping into my back.
“Of course not. I’m not a fucking idiot,” Garrett plants a sloppy kiss on my temple. Huxley and Axel are groaning, shuddering and soaked through. Their t-shirts are stuck to each muscled outline. Dax, being the hero with the gift of foresight, steps out in his boots with a bundle of towels in his arms.
Garrett peels himself from me to wrap a towel around my shoulders, uncaring of the water dripping from his messy, dark hair. Given his easy smile, no one would be able to guess that the blue shade creeping into his lips was from potential hypothermia. "Just wanted to make your day a little more interesting, Peach."
"You definitely succeeded," I say, catching my breath and looking around at the state of us all. The guys are a mess, I’m no better, and Wyatt is watching on with an emotion that isn’t hatred. What is happening in the world?
Garrett doesn’t release my shoulders, walking me back to the porch swing. I sit with a thud, and suddenly my legs are being forced apart by Garrett’s. Gripping the sides of my face, he pushes his tongue into my mouth before I even realize what he’s doing. The warmth of his mouth against mine ignites an immediate fire that mixes with the adrenaline already coursing through my veins.
Dueling his tongue with mine, he mouth-fucks me so hard, my toes are curling. Running a hand across the hard expanse of his chest, he grinds against me deliciously, before snatching the phone I forgot was in my grip and stepping away.
“So, Meg, as I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted,” Garrett rolls his eyes in my direction. “I’ll make sure to film Avery’s dance for you tomorrow. We wouldn’t want you to miss it.”
I sit stunned, panting from arousal and shock as Axel appears to offer me a hand up. Never mind the cold, all of my limbs are numb now for very different reasons. Garrett is pacing, curling a wet tendril of his hair as he talks to my best friend. Huxley and Dax head in, leaving me standing opposite Wyatt. He hasn’t moved an inch, leaning against the house, arms folded. He’s taking in the scene from afar, as per usual.
“Let’s get you warm and dry,” Axel tries to urge me inside. I pause, digging deep for some resolve. Things have been fine with Wyatt, an unspoken agreement to ignore each other, but these past ten minutes have proved there could be more. That it doesn’t have to be this way.
“Will you be there too?” I find my voice. Wyatt raises a brow and I shift under his gaze. Axel’s arm around my back is all that keeps me in place. “The showcase tomorrow. Will you…come?” I suck my bottom lip into my mouth. Axel is still but doesn’t comment, and luckily Garrett is lost in his own conversation down the wooden steps.
“Do you want me to?” Wyatt asks tentatively. His features don’t betray if he likes that idea or not, but I nod anyway.
