Page 28 of Reckless Pawn
The men look frustrated. Understandably so.
The game is so stressful, in fact, that I can barely appreciate Owen’s ass every time they show it.
When the game finally ends, the score is straight up embarrassing. I’m not sure I want to watch the post-game interviews, since I’m sure there will be some words thrown about.
The men trudge off the field, their heads hung low, their helmets hanging from their hands. Leo looks pissed, but I know it’s only because he screwed up. He knows when to admit that something was his fault, and although everyone played horribly, Leo would place most of the blame on himself regardless.
I debate texting Owen, but I refrain. I’m not sure where we’re at. I’m not sure, still, what this is. I don’t want to overstep a boundary by asking him whether he’s doing okay after the game. Men can be emotional, and I don’t want to be shocked by him being short with me. I know myself better than to do that to myself.
I’ll let him come to me.
* * *
“What do you mean I have to get a nipple pierced?” I ask, my jaw hanging to the floor.
“That was what the punishment was this week.”
“You can make an exception, though.”
Leo shakes his head, leaning against my kitchen island. “I can’t, sorry.”
“You do realize that I’m your sister, right? You’re telling yoursisterthat she has toget her nipple pierced.”
He looks concerned for a moment before whatever part of his brain is responsible for his incessant desire for chaos files the thought under “does not care.”
“I’d rather you not remind me of that, but it’s the rules. You have to.”
“You do know that I have boobs, Leo, right?”
He closes his eyes, looking away as I point to my chest. “Can you not?”
“What do you meancan you not.You’re asking me to get my fucking tit pierced, Leo. My boobs. My C-cup boobs. And then I have to send it to the group.”
Realization dawns on him then, and he looks troubled as he watches the waves out the window behind me, trying to figure something out.
“I don’t really know what to do,” he confesses, throwing his hands up.
“You went into this thinking that I would be one of the worst, correct?” he meets my eyes then before casting them downward, guilt clear in the way his shoulders slump just a little.
“I didn’t think that you would be the worst but I wasn’t thinking that you would do super well either.”
“So you added me to this knowing that at some point I could be the one with the weekly punishment, and yet you were also totally fine with this particular punishment?”
He tosses his hands up, bringing them down onto the top of his head, pulling his brown hair at the tips. “I don’t know what I was thinking obviously, I’m sorry. But it can’t be changed. You’re just going to have to figure it out.”
“No, no, no,” I hiss, shaking my head. “You’re going to figure this out, Leo. This isn’t on me, it’s on you. This is on you, you hear me?”
“Do you know how many messages I got from old men asking if they could suck my toes last week? I’m still getting them, Isla. I took the photo down but I’m still getting messages on that craigslist account. It’s traumatizing. Trust me, if I could change something I would.”
Wait. Toes? Sucking? Craigslist?
“What are you talking about?” I ask him, sitting back.
“Last week’s punishment!”
“You don’ttellme the weekly punishment, idiot.”
He rolls his eyes, folding his arms over his chest. “I had to paint my toes and put feet pictures up on Craigslist.”
