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He’s messing with me. He’s trying to get inside my head.
I miss Laurence as I fidget in my seat, waiting patiently for the game to start.
When the door opens again, my heart leaps in my chest, and I try to gauge the sound of the footsteps to tell if there’s anything familiar about them, anythingLaurenceabout them. There’s something too eager about them, too quickly paced as they approach me that I have a suspicion that this isnotLaurence, despite the proximity that they stand in front of me, stopping in front of my legs. I can feel their body heat on my knees. When their hands touch my thighs, I find their palms rough and warm, and I flinch.
Whoever this is, it’s not Laurence. They grab my chin in their hands and tilt my face up. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do, if this is the game or not. For risk of it being a test, I allow it to happen. I allow the strangers lips to hover over mine before planting a hard kiss on my mouth. They move their lips against mine, but I stay immobile, even when I feel their tongue tease me.
When they pull away, they say, “Not as giving as I thought you’d be.” I don’t recognize their voice.
When they step away, opening the door and making a quick exit, I’m relieved, but even more confused.
I run the back of my hand over my mouth, wanting to wipe away the kiss of the strange person. When the door opens again, I turn toward it as if I’ll be able to see through my blindfold, but instead only hear the soft click of the door, this person walking on lighter, slower steps. They stop in front of me, not as close as the first person. I can’t feel their body heat, but the silence that ensues makes my heartbeat faster.
What is this?I wonder, pressing my palms into the top of my thighs to keep myself from fidgeting as I attempt to solve the rules of this game.
When they step up to me, their hands find my waist as they lean in toward me, breathing in. Did they justsniffme? They don’t say a word, even though I feel their lips part as if they’re about to, feel their warm breath along my jaw.
“Hello,” I say, an attempt to get them to speak so I can clarify if it’s Laurence, or at least someone I know. But they don’t respond. They press themselves in between my legs, bringing me flush against them as they graze their lips across mine. They nip at my bottom lip, and I flinch away again. They don’t end the kiss, their lips following mine, but I turn my head away, turned off by the nip before the kiss.
Stranger number two pulls away with a sharpness that tells me they’re offended. “Prude,” they whisper and rush out the door.
What kind of shaming game is this? How many people am I supposed to kiss?If I’m being tested off my kissing skill alone, I’m surely doomed. I’m not giving these strangers anything. Nobody’s told me the rules, but I suppose that’s part of this.
I miss Laurence.
The door opens, and without seeing who it is, I can tell by their steps that they saunter in, someone with an air of confidence as they approach me on the bed. They don’t hesitate to trail their fingers down my bare thigh, nudging my knees openfor them to affix themselves between my legs like the second stranger.
“Mmm,” they exhale. Not Laurence, but it’s a scent I recognize, amoanI recognize.
Carrick.
His hand slides into my hair, cradling the back of my skull like he used to. When he pulls gently, I hate to say I’m used to the cue, to tilt my head ever so slightly to the right, exposing my throat to him. “I knew you’d remember,” he says at my ear, and a feeling of disgust rises in me.
I don’twantto remember. I don’t want to be at the whims of these men.
Where’s Laurence?
Carrick trails his mouth along my jaw, toward my lips, and I shiver, which he mistakes as pleasure, feeling another moan brush against my skin. “We finally get a moment together. And I want you to continue to remember…” he grabs me roughly by the chin, “howgoodour times were.” His lips meet mine in a flurry of passion—passion that isnotreciprocated. But like many of our encounters, it doesn’t matter to Carrick. He moves his lips against mine as if he’s starved for affection. I give him the bare minimum, if only for the sake of the game, but my allegiance lies with someone else.
Someone else that I’m still waiting patiently to arrive. Someone I have yet to even kiss. The reminder that Laurence and I had done so little together, yet done enough for my body to crave him, creates an ache inside me that begs for the kiss with Carrick to end, for Laurence to appear. But I have no idea how many of these men I’ll have to kiss, or why I’m kissing them, or if Laurence will even show.
Carrick pulls away.
“I knew you missed me,” he says with satisfaction. He pulls away slightly, but only to adjust himself at my ear. “It won’t be long before you’re mine again.”
I still, going stiffer than I already was. The chill that shivered down my spine at his words elicited an even worse response—fear.What’s Carrick up to?I remember his stare from across the ballroom, the way he watched me. Was he still hoping to undermine my Advocate to have me as his Player? There was nothing I wanted less at this point in the games.
Laurence is my lifeboat. He might be the only person here I trust aside from Lily.
These games turned out to be more cutthroat than I ever expected when Carrick recruited me for them.
I prayed for Carrick to leave. Whatever god that was listening answered, and Carrick quickly left without another word. I released the breath I had been holding, my shoulders dropping from their tense position. It was difficult to keep my composure in this situation, but I had to, knowing there was an audience behind the glass in front of me. The stakes were higher than ever.
The sound of the door opening again made my back straighten, going on alert for who was next for this strange version of a kissing booth.
For a moment, all that lingered in the room was silence as whoever walked in stayed near the door. It clicked softly shut, followed by a long pause. Finally, a step was taken toward me. I inhaled a breath. It got caught in my lungs. Their silence carried a weight unlike the previous people, building an anticipation that made me eager to feel their kiss.
I rubbed my hands along my thighs nervously as the quiet steps came up to me until their hands took mine off my thighs. I still haven’t breathed. When the stranger slowly encased my wrists in their hands, but then moved on to trail their touchup my arms, I finally let out an exhale, a natural relaxation happening at their touch.
