Alisha ignored his presence to the very best of her ability as she opened one of the cabinets and looked for a decorative plate for the dessert. Spying one on the top shelf, she stood on her tip toes and tried vainly to reach it.
The look of determination on her face and the way she tried to stretch every inch of her petite frame to reach the plate made him grin. He also appreciated the glimpse of bare skin he got when her soft sweater (he knew it was soft because he accidentally totally on purpose brushed against her on the couch to see if it was really as soft as it looked) rode up.
He stepped behind her and grabbed the plate off the shelf, holding it out for her. "There you go, Shorty," he said, chuckling when she jumped.
Glancing over her shoulder, she found him standing entirely too close and looking down at her with mischief swirling amusedly in his eyes. "Shorty?" she asked, one eyebrow arched high and grabbed the plate from his hands.
Big laughed lowly. "It fits—you're short."
"I'm petite," she corrected.
"And nicely packed," he added with a sly grin.
"Are you always so sleazy?" she asked with a roll of her eyes as she turned back to the task of plating the brownies.
"Are you always so uptight?" he tossed back. "It was a compliment."
"Thanks, I guess," she said dryly, picking up the plate of brownies and her glass of wine. "Let's just go out there and get the humiliation over with so you can go home. Okay?"
"What's wrong, Larrington? Not enjoying my company?" he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets, blocking her way.
She smiled tartly, angling her head to look up at him. When she leaned in, he smirked. "You're not very quick on the uptake are you, Big?" she whispered condescendingly. Skirting around him, she carried the brownies out to the living room where the next game (ass kicking embarrassment) was about to begin.
The last game was a homemade version of Catchphrase that had become a necessity after a few game nights and Alisha, Maggie and Russell had nearly memorized all the words. So the new game consisted of words written on tiny pieces of paper that were put into a New Kids on the Block bowl that Russell had found.
Maggie and James went first, with James giving the clues. Alisha laughed at some of James's clues and smiled when Maggie was able to guess them. They were kind of adorable, so she didn't begrudge their early lead. And really, who was she kidding? She and Big were going to get dead last anyway.
Russell and Adam were up next and managed to get eight words in their time limit. Normally she would have given him a well done, sir but she was still mad, so he got nothing. Okay, so he got a look of disdain when he taunted her and informed them that they were up next.
Alisha looked at Big, who was sipping his beer. "I'll just go first," she sighed, getting up off the couch. She was a sore loser.
She waited until Russell gave the signal and then reached into the bowl for her first word. "Okay, Piano Man, Uptown Girl and Keeping the Faith are all…"
"Billy Joel songs," Big said, putting on his game face.
Alisha was pleasantly surprised that he didn't have a smart-ass comment, but pressed on, hoping to at least have a better showing than the Pictionary round. "Made with gin or vodka—James Bond likes his shaken, not stirred."
"Martini."
"Yes!" She grabbed another clue. "Oh," she snapped her fingers excitedly. "Your band's name."
"Fire Extinguishers," he grinned.
"Yes!" They were on a roll and with her clues, Big guessed Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, The Declaration of Independence, ménage a trois (she died a little having to give that clue), Simon and Garfunkel, Taco Bell and black and white photography.
"Time's up," Russell called. "You got nine," he said, his lips pursed.
She looked over at Russell and told him to suck it, then clapped excitedly as she all but skipped back to the couch with a brilliant smile on her face. "Good job," she said, holding her hand up for a high five.
Big slapped her hand with his and smirked up at her happy face. "You too, Shorty." When she didn't roll her eyes, or come back with a snide retort, he figured he'd made some progress. As much fun as he had getting an angry rise out of her, making her smile like that was even better. (And only because he really wanted to fuck her—not because he was developing feelings and shit. Hell to the no.)
Alisha sat next to him and they laughed at some of the other clue attempts from the rest of the group. At one point, she turned and gave him a questioning look because of something James had said. He shrugged and gave her a look that said yeah, I know, he's my boy and all, but he's kind of an idiot. They had developed some sort of game night camaraderie and that was pretty cool.
It was their turn again and they needed eight words to beat Russell and Adam. Alisha raised her brows like please don't fuck this up because I'd really like to win so I can hold it over my gay friend's head. He just smirked and said, "I got this."
She watched as he practically swaggered across the living room and felt a strange flutter in her stomach. He was seriously, ridiculously hot and even though he'd managed to pull his head out of his ass for one round of game night, he was still an arrogant jerk and not someone she wanted to involve herself with. But since she was just having this little thought stream in her head, she'd admit that he was mighty easy on the eyes.
"Ready, go," Russell called.
Big grabbed a word from the bowl and grinned when
