It just so happens that Jake Biggerman? Is shit fucking awful at Pictionary. Either he was messing with her (entirely plausible) or he was a total moron (also likely). Alisha knew she wasn't an artiste by any means, but, come on—the word was "camel" and when he shouted out "tits" she wanted to pick up the easel and brain him with it. Her camel looked nothing like a pair of breasts. Honestly!
Admittedly, she was overly competitive. Her friends had bestowed the nickname Monica upon her, in light of her Monica Gellar-Bing – you know, the girl from the Friends TV Show that always went ballistic whenever she was faced with a challenge - tendencies that always emerged during game night. She wasn't the least bit offended.
She Adam a hand with a diamond ring on the third finger and pointed excitedly to it, because, hello, the word was 'diamond ring' and that was so easy even a knuckle scraper like him could figure that out.
"Ball and chain," he called out, cracking everyone else up in the room but Alisha.
"TIME!" Russell called.
"Ugh!" She ripped the used sheet of paper and wadded it into a ball, hurling it at his head. "Diamond ring, you idiot!"
"My statement stands." He shared a quick glance with James who shook his head disappointedly even though his lips were fighting back a smile. Alright, so he was being unnecessarily ass-y. But Alisha's frustration with him was funny as hell—and more than a little sexy. She was so easy to rile up that it really shouldn't be fun, and yet he just kept poking away at her buttons.
He wondered what she was like in the sack, and not for the first (or tenth) time. Would she be tame and lame or funky and spunky? He'd already born witness to her flexibility (thank you, Chicago), and with her temper and flair for drama, he was pretty sure that she'd be wild.
Alisha sat back down on the couch and her lips fell into a pout. This was without a doubt the worst game night ever. She could feel his eyes boring into the side of head (her newly acquired smirkometer sparked to life, so she knew what expression he wore) and she slanted him a sideways glance, an eyebrow arched in question.
"Are you actually pouting?" he asked as Beau and Cristina took their turn.
"I'm very competitive and seeing as how we're currently in last place due to your complete inadequacy, yes, I suppose I am. You are the worst partner ever."
"Depends on the game, baby," he said suggestively.
"Don't baby me, you arrogant, sycophantic jackass. And call me crazy, but your constant allusions to sex sound an awful lot like overcompensation to me."
His brows Adam together and the muscles in his jaw twitched. Was she serious? "Are you questioning my badassness?"
Alisha snorted. "I've yet to see examples of said badassness," she said sharply, making air quotes, "so the answer is yes." He frowned. That made her smile. He got up and walked (stomped) to the kitchen. She laughed.
Maggie slid down the couch after James went to grab a beer and rested her head on Alisha's shoulder. "Still mad?"
She pursed her lips and considered her friend, who was currently making sad puppy dog eyes at her. "Not at you. Our supposed best friend over there though is another story."
"James's so cute, Lisha," Maggie whispered, her cheeks blossoming with color. "We're going on our first date this weekend," she beamed.
"Awww!" Alisha smiled. "You're so in like," she teased in a sing-song voice.
"I think I really am," Maggie sighed. "He's so sweet and he makes me laugh."
Alisha was thrilled for her friend and wrapped and arm around her and gave her a friendly squeeze. "I'm so happy for you. You deserve to have a nice guy who adores you."
"So do you, Lisha." She felt Alisha's sigh and sat up. "You do," she repeated, meeting her eyes. "Put that fucktard behind you once and for all. It's time to move on."
"I have," Alisha protested weakly.
"No, sweetie, you haven't. Moved on, that is," she said softly, squeezing her hand. "It's time to get back out there—meet someone new." Her eyes looked towards the kitchen where James and Big were laughing about something. She wasn't sure what had implored her to have James invite Big to the game night, but even though Alisha was all but ready to murder him, she thought that this could be the beginning of something very interesting between them. The fact that Alisha was so bothered by him was pretty telling. But she kept those observations to herself because a) Alisha was no longer mad and b) she rather enjoyed her head being attached to her body.
"Time for the next round, darlings," Russell trilled across the room.
Alisha tried to humor herself by thinking up ways in which to pay Russell back. She was nothing if not creative. She frowned at her empty wineglass and stood up from the couch. "I need a refill and to round up my worthless partner. Need anything?" she asked Maggie.
"Brownies!"
She laughed and walked towards the kitchen where Big was of course blocking the entry. His agenda was to annoy her, evidently. "Excuse me," she said curtly.
Big turned and looked down at the spitfire in the doorway. Christ, she was tiny. "Sorry, partner," he drawled, making room for her to pass. She rolled her eyes and grabbed the wine bottle on the counter, pouring a healthy (read: full to the very top) glass. He saw her reach for a knife and for a second considered that she might turn around and stab, or at the very least
