Hidden Play: The Return 《COMPLETE》

Chapter 37

Chapter 37

A flood of memories tumble through my mind as I step through the threshold of Radik's cabin. There's already quite a few people here based on the number of cars parked outside, but Mike assures me they'll be out back enjoying the sunset and firing up the grill. Sure enough, their muted laughter and drunken shouts become white noise as I take in the same, perpendicular couches that were here the last time.

A small grin tugs at the corner of my mouth as I eye the wall where Zion claimed my lips during my first game of One-Up. What a ridiculous game. Was that only nine months ago? It feels like years. I quietly pad across the foyer and take the stairs two at a time with my overnight duffle.

Mike didn't specify room assignments before getting here - just that I have my pick. I'm half-tempted to text Zion about it, but I know him well enough to select the same room where he'll be staying. Memory alone delivers me to the room at the end. The door is already cracked open, beckoning me to continue my trip down memory lane. I press my fingertips against the door, and it gives, allowing me full view of the room that I shared my first night with Zion Matthews.

Goosebumps trail down my arms as I take slow, measured steps into the room. I stand there and take a deep breath, allowing the slow burn of memories past to sweep me away.

"It's about time," Zion says quietly, closing his eyes and locking his fingers behind his head. "And nice hickey by the way...."

..."You know," Zion says with a sly smirk. "I've' been thinking of ways we could get to know one another better without the other feeling as if it's...a trap."

Zion closes the distance between us, crashing his lips against mine in a rough kiss. The anger in Zion's expression seems to fade, and in its place a dark heat begins to build.

"You wanted me to answer your stupid, fucking question. I'm answering it."

I squeeze my eyes shut, allowing the images of him to soak into my brain like a sponge. I've pushed out the thoughts of him for so, damn long. Too damn long - 153 days to be exact. Allowing myself the weakness of swimming in thoughts of him is intoxicating. It's like satiating a hunger that's been gnawing at me from the inside out.

I breathe it all in again, and this time I swear I can feel the familiar, pricking heat of his gaze against my back. I can almost smell him, a heady scent combining shaving cream and cedar. I bring my fingers up to my neck, thinking about the hickey he gave me that night, the ghost of his eyes following the movement.

"Admiring my handiwork?" Zion questions arrogantly, nodding towards my hickey.

I open my eyes and blow out a breath, chuckling at our earlier days.

"Such a smug asshole," I mutter to the ghost of our past.

I toss my duffle bag to the end of the bed and turn to leave. My breath becomes lodged in my throat, and my heart squeezes painfully in my chest. Zion stands at the threshold, staring at me with a small smirk hanging from his lips.

"Smug asshole, hmm?" he asks, pushing away from the door. He kicks it closed with his heel and takes the needed steps to close the distance between us. "I sure hope you weren't talking about me."

Somehow, I find my voice and swallow past the nerves. "And if I was?"

He takes his time letting his gaze trail down my body. Desire clouds his expression - desire and something else. He slips a hand around my waist and pulls me against him. The heat of his breath caresses my cheeks. My nose. My eyelashes. His scent is all around me, drawing me in.