Page 122 of The Bonding Games: Part 2

Humming, her grip loosens and drops from my neck, and her smirk tells me she doesn’t miss the disappointment that pangs through me.

“My turn,” Tate grunts at once.

“No, my beast. You will go last. You failed most spectacularly whilst I showered.”

A low rumble emanates from deep in his chest.

“What about me?!”

Rolling onto her back, she flicks her gaze to Tiger. “You were almost as bad.” Her tone is deadpan.

He throws his head back dramatically. “Nooooo!”

When Ezla’s lips press into a thin line, I’m sure she’s suppressing a smile.

But any traces of it are wiped clean from her face when she demands, “Cooper. Come to me.”

35

COOPER

“Are you serious?” Neck twisted to see Ezla on the bed, I give her an incredulous look.

“Yes,” she answers without inflection.

“How the fuck am I meant to get to you with my wrists and ankles bound, HC?”

She shrugs carelessly. “Figure it out.” Then her eyes sparkle. “You may have to wriggle to me.”

More disbelief pours off me. “You want me to wriggle my way over to you like a bloody worm?”

“Those are your words, not mine.”

Tiger snickers. “Cooper the Caterpillar.”

Unimpressed, I slide narrowed eyes his way. “Caterpillars aren’t even worms.”

“Well, duh.” His eyes roll. “But they both wriggle, and Cooper the Worm doesn’t sound as good, does it?”

“Neither sounds good.”

“I am not so sure. Cooper the Caterpillar does have a ring to it.”

“Hah!” Tiger cries, shining a trillion times brighter as I gape at our Bonded. Scotty laughs under his breath, while Tate snorts, eyes boring holes into Ezla. “It’s official! That’s your new nickname!”

“No one is fucking calling me that,” I grit out, even though happiness moves through me at Ezla joining in on something like this, despite it being at my expense. “Cooper, or even Coops, is fine. But that’s the most you’ll get.”

He blows a raspberry. “Boooring.”

“And how would you feel about Tiger the Testicle?” I fire at him.

Horror takes a hold of his features. “Coops! That’s not at all the same!” he protests loudly, but it’s not enough to drown out Ezla’s lyrical laugh. There’s always that cruel undertone, but this is the second time we’ve heard a laugh that’s purely joyful, only full of amusement. And this one’s all for us, the rest of the world not privy to the devastating sound. The sound tapers off naturally this time, too, different from the abrupt cut-off in Game 5, as we stare slack-jawed at her.

“You do so amuse me,” she tells us with her gorgeous notes lingering in the air as she pushes herself up into a sitting position with her palms pressing into the silks on the mattress.

Tiger bats his lashes enthusiastically, outrage at my proposed nickname entirely forgotten. “Thank you, Ezzy.”

Smirking, she hums, absently trailing a finger over Scotty’s sternum while her eyes come to rest on me and fix themselves there. He tenses, inhaling and exhaling shakily, the effect the small action has on him clear.