One...
The game had gotten lost in argument and accusation; the four remaining players now sat, crossed legged, on the living room floor. He was to her right and talking to Holly. Gorgeous, model-like Holly who had a thing for lost causes.
She'd missed him that evening. Melon headed Nick was no replacement for the real thing. The relief she'd felt when he had came back for her, because she needed him, had been real. Never leave me alone again. What a loaded sentence that would be in other contexts, she'd thought.
Jess considered herself an excellent friend so his accusation that she was his cooler, and consequently could not go to the club with them that evening, had stung her. When they had returned she was thrilled, launching herself into his arms; pulling him into a suffocating hug. And now she was working on hooking up her best male friend with this stunning girl who sat opposite them, because that's what friends do, right?
...Two...
A kiss. Where had that idea come from? So childish, she'd briefly thought - we're not in grade school. But the idea had slipped off her tongue before she could stop herself, eased by the consumption of several beers, "There's only one way to solve this..."
It was agreed; behind the iron curtain the losers would go. Her mind wandered... She of course intended this for Nick and Holly, but what if her number came up?
Kissing Schmidt, urgh. The thought made her feel a little queasy. He was a great guy but just, no... However, Nick? What about kissing him? Surprisingly the thought did not fill her with dread. In fact, a warm fuzzy feeling descended as she now considered the possibility, something she had only briefly thought about before. Imagining those lips that so often spilled out grumpy, annoying statements pressed against hers... A hot flush went through her. Must be the beers, she thought...
...Three
Her fists were balled in her lap as the game was explained to Holly, both men trying to get her to choose a certain number. She looked confused. "When we do this do two; not three, not four," Nick told her. Two... Two... Jess's fingers twitched anxiously as he spoke. Swallowing she had began the chant.
"One, two, three!"
Quickly, hands flashed up to foreheads. As her arm rose she could feel her fingers moving, subconsciously into a V shape as her she pressed them against her against her bangs, she barely noticed herself doing it.
Wait, she thought, two. I chose two? Why? She looked to her right. Instantly she could see his hand had made the same shape as he turned to face her. Two; the magic number. Realisation hit like a pounding wave upon her chest. Maybe she wasn't in full control of herself, but somewhere inside, part of her wanted to kiss Nick Miller.
***
As the iron curtain closed she protested, "Mulligan, Mulligan." But secretly, deep down, she felt a little smile emerge. She was going to kiss him.