Play (Stage Dive 2)

“I am so touched you’d take my name, pumpkin.” Mal attempted to smooch my fists. “No shit, that’s awesome of you. Means the world to me. My family is gonna love you.”

“La–la-la-la,” I sang at the top of my voice, drowning them both out as best I could.

“And she’d watch Stage Dive videos over and over. Except for the one where you kissed that girl.” Lizzy clicked her fingers, her face tensed in concentration. “’Last Days of Love’, that was the one. She flat-out refused to watch it, would leave the room if it came on.”

Beneath me, Mal’s body shuddered because he was laughing his ass off. The man was in hysterics. Even his eyes were bright with unshed tears, the douche canoe. A big hand curled around the back of my head, pressing my face into his neck. “Aw, Anne. Were you jealous?”

“No.” Yes. Horribly, horribly jealous. That kiss had ravaged my teenage soul and made me listen to sad songs for almost a year.

“My poor girl.”

“Shuddup.”

“I didn’t mean to kiss her. My mouth slipped,” he said, trying for earnest and failing. “I swear I was trying to keep myself pure for you. Tell me you believe me, please.”

I called him something foul.

He laughed even harder, making the whole couch shake.

Given he wasn’t letting me go any time soon, I hid my hot face in his neck as invited. Everyone in the room, I hated them. I hated them hard. It was tempting to bite him but he’d probably enjoy it. He’d certainly spent quality time nibbling at my lips and jaw after cornering me yet again at the party last night. His kissing crusade had almost undone me, but it had taken my sister to do the real damage, my own flesh and blood.

Now Mal knew everything. I was doomed.

“Lizzy, be a good girl and fetch me a pen,” said Mal. “I need to write your sister’s name on my junk, right now.”

Honest to god, I tried not to laugh. I tried so hard.

“How about I go make coffee instead?” Lizzy hauled herself to her feet. “You know she usually has breakfast cooked for me by now, every Sunday at ten o’clock on the dot. You’re a bad influence on her, Mal.”

“Let me get dressed, I’ll take you both out.” He smoothed his hand over my back. “Can’t have my future sister-in-law getting mad at me already.”

“Won’t you get hassled?” Lizzy hollered from the kitchen.

“People have usually been pretty cool around here when I’ve visited. But I’ll wear a hat and sunglasses. And I can call up some security if needed.”

“Why don’t I cook us something? It’s got to be my turn by now,” said Lizzy. The clanging of pots and pans and the running of water accompanied her statement. Maybe my sister wasn’t so bad after all.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Soooo.” Mal smacked a kiss on the top of my head. “You weren’t just a little into me. You’re my biggest fan. You love me.”

“I don’t love you.”

“You totally love me.” He gave me a squeeze. “I’m your everything. You’d be lost without me.”

Thankfully, this time when I scrambled off of him, he didn’t try to fight me. I pulled down my old T-shirt and smoothed back my bed hair, getting myself together. “It was just a stupid teenage crush. Don’t let it go to your already swollen head.”

“The big one or the little one?”

I groaned.

Mal just laid there, his fingers sitting steepled atop his bare chest. He watched me without comment. His eyes, they saw far too much. After a moment, he sat up, his feet hitting the floor. He yawned and then stretched, cracking his neck. “You know, that’s the first decent sleep I’ve gotten in ages.”

“With me passed out on top of you? It can’t have been comfortable.”

The shadows beneath his eyes had faded and he seemed more relaxed, stretching out his long limbs. Still, he rubbed at the back of his neck. “No, it wasn’t really. Go figure. Guess we should be sleeping on the couch every night from now on.”

“My bed is broken.”

He pushed back his hair, gave me a smile.

“You’ve been having trouble sleeping?” I asked.

“A bit, I guess.”

“Something on your mind?”

“Dunno. It’s nothing.” He avoided my eyes.

“It’s something.” This was the first real in he’d given me. Or first vague in. Either way, I needed to take it. “What’s going on with you? What’s wrong? Sometimes I look at you and you seem so … ”

“What? I seem so what?”

“Sad.”

His face blanked, his hands settling on his hips. Tension radiated from his body like a force field. “Nothing’s going on. I told you that shit wasn’t up for discussion.”

“Sorry. I just thought maybe you’d like to talk about it.”

“Not up for discussion kinda means, I don’t want to talk about it. Got it?” His voice was hard and he used it like a weapon. Accordingly, it hurt.

“Okay,” I said quietly.

Anger thinned his lips. “You know, Anne, you’re the last f**king person who should be pushing me about anything. We had a deal, an understanding.”

Oh no, he did not. My chin jutted out. “And you’ve stuck to it so well.”

“What the f**k is that supposed to mean?”

“I went to the party. I played my part.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And you spent the night trying to prove you’re the world’s greatest lover or something. There wasn’t anyone around to see some of those kisses, Mal. They were all about you proving you’re the shit because that’s what you decided to do.”

“They were about more than that.” A muscle popped in his jaw. It was kind of impressive and a little scary. But screw him.

“Where they?”

“’Course they f**king were.”

I stared at him, a little taken aback. “Okay. I didn’t realize. But don’t rip my head off for crossing a few lines because I’m worried about you. I don’t like seeing you sad either.”

“Fuck,” he swore and his face stilled. He linked his hands behind his head, muttering some more expletives. Then he let out a long breath, never taking his gaze off of me. His mood had shifted, the anger gone from the air. Ever so gently he reached out and traced my swollen bottom lip. “Looks sore.”