Nothing could relieve my litigation-loaded stress more than games night. Was it because the closest resemblance to relaxation I could manage was channeling the energy into competitive-pursuits? Perhaps.
"We could play Euchre?" I floated to the group, hands knuckle deep in Cheezels with utter delight.
"No can do. We have a fifth wheel tonight, can't." Jasper replied, cheese crumbs overflowing as he spoke.
"We have a fifth wheel tonight, who?"
Confusion laced my tone as I ran the numbers of possible attendees in my mind. Summer? No, she's at work. If it were a girl, there'd be an invitee for each housemate. A football friend? Perhaps. But why, I couldn't fathom. Whoever it was, I still planned on winning then tucking myself in with a delightful little cocktail buzz and dozing off with ease.
Exhausted by the thought spiral I'd just ventured on, the knock on the door zapped me into a false state of calm. If not only momentarily.
Swinging into living area was the man who's presence hadn't vacated my mind in many days, in all his grey tracksuit pant clad glory.
Iggy stood tall and smiling as if he were the main guest entering an evening talk show set. Only in this scenario Jimmy Fallon had no idea they were scheduled to be on and was a little mortified.
Black hoodie pulled taut over his ears, a tumble of hair peering out from the covering. He looked shadowy and divine, and a little nervous despite his glittery apparition into games night as if plucked from my psyche. Manifesting, I tell you.
"Oh...what are you doing here?" I rushed in reply, voice squeaking across each vowel. An effort to divert attention from my shock and most likely gawking stare. I'd drunk him in with far too much enjoyment and an abrupt hello was all I could muster.
"The greeting every man dreams of." Iggy coughed in reply. Looking uncharacteristically hurt by my flippant greeting.
"Rude of you." Miles scolded before turning his attention to the guest I didn't expect. "Hey Vallis - I invited him." The last three words in warning to me no doubt.
"Why'd you think I was here, Harper?" Iggy leaned in close to utter lowly before saying hello to my friends/conspirators. The tickle of his voice causing my cheeks to flutter pink as he taunted me, albeit in a hushed tone.
"I'm going to get the drinks." Standing up so quickly I worried the whiplash would cause my hands to mix and shake the drinks with little additional effort.
From the lounge room I heard chuckles and happiness, conversation flowing with comfort as I prepped the Amaretto Sours. A little fancy for a Tuesday evening but I needed to dial up the alcohol content to soothe my nervous energy and still my mind.
Carrying the swilled masterpieces into the lounge room in one go earned a light cheer from the boys, having arranged themselves casually around the coffee table with the Articulate board laid out.
Taking a cushion across the way from Iggy and beside Jasper I took a first sip and savoured the taste on my lips. Pimms incident aside I was a fine bartender.
"These are really fucking tasty."
"God yes."
"You need to make these forever, fuck beer."
The chorus of gents lapped up their beverages with gusto as I gulped mine down faster than usual. And upon the sight of the frothy finish catching itself on Iggy's top lip, my eyes locked still with a light giggle. Earning a quirk of Iggy's head in question, before noticing the false moustache and clearing it with his tongue in an agonisingly slow motion.
YOU ARE READING
Closing Arguments
Romance"He should never have hit you, but winding him up like that..." "Like what? Talking about being your partner, working with you, spending time with you. That's no fabrication, H. We are going to be spending a whole lot of time together this semester...
