She Has A Broken Thing Where Her Heart Should Be - J.D. Barker Page 0,191

didn’t then, but I think I might. Thanks to you.”

“Who?”

She slid her empty cup back to me. “Such information will cost you, Pip.”

I mixed another drink, her third now, and returned the cup to her. “Careful, you’re going to get drunk.”

“I’m well aware of the effects of alcohol,” she said, taking a long gulp.

I was still on my first, about half gone now.

Stella put her cup aside and took the yearbook from the stack beside her. She turned to one of the dog-eared pages, then pointed at the photograph of Jeffery Dalton. “I can’t be sure, but I believe it was him. He’s so much younger here, it’s hard to tell. I didn’t say anything when you first showed me the book, because it seemed too unlikely. I thought maybe my mind just wanted it to be him. But the more I thought about that night, the more certain I became.”

Jeffery Dalton.

“No more of this talk, not tonight.” Stella reached across the table and scooped up the bottle of Patron. She brought it to her lips and drank the tequila straight. Smiling, she placed it back on the table in front of me. “Your turn, Pip.”

“Now you’re trying to get me drunk? A seasoned alcoholic?” I grinned, picked up the bottle, and drank, too, the familiar warmth easing down my throat. I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand.

“We’re going to play a game,” Stella said, a mischievous curl at the edge of her lips. She moved our plates aside. “We need to separate our laundry. Colors will go here.” She slid her gloves to the right side of the table. “Whites over there, near you. The game is called Never have I ever.”

I chuckled. “I’ve played that, in like fifth grade.”

“You’ve never played with me.”

I was beginning to like where this was going. I straightened up in my chair.

Stella placed the bottle of tequila between us. “You’ve played, so you’re familiar with the rules. I’ll start with something like, ‘never have I ever eaten french fries.’ If you have eaten french fries, you’ll have two choices: you can either drink, or deposit an article of clothing on the table.”

Using my foot, I pulled my backpack close.

Stella shook her head. “The clothing in our bags will be off limits for the duration of this game.”

I tried to keep a poker face, but judging by the smile on Stella, I wasn’t doing a very good job.

She folded both hands on the table. “Never have I ever ridden a bicycle.”

“Seriously?”

“I wanted one when I was younger, particularly after seeing yours, but Ms. Oliver was afraid I might fall and hurt myself. Doctors were…problematic…for me. Hospitals were out of the question, so she was very protective of everything I did. If injury was a possibility, the activity was ruled out.”

I couldn’t imagine growing up without a bike as a kid. Not having the freedom those two wheels granted, or the fun of riding.

Stella cleared her throat and nodded at the bottle. “I believe you are required to drink or provide an article of clothing to our laundry pile.”

I smiled, took the bottle, and drank.

“Chicken,” she said.

“I’m just trying to catch up. I’ve never had a woman outdrink me before.”

“Prepared to be schooled, good sir. Your turn.”

I thought about my response for a second. “Never have I ever lived in a house with a pool.”

“I liked the pool,” Stella said, before crossing her arms and pulling her white tank top over her head and starting our pile of whites. Then she settled back into her chair, wearing only her shoes, jeans, and a white bra. The flickering candlelight bounced across her toned skin.

I reached for the bottle and took a drink. My God, she was beautiful.

“Eyes front, Pip,” Stella said. “Shall we continue?”

I nodded.

“Never have I ever had real friends my own age to play with.”

“None? What did you do all day?”

“I read, of course. I’ve read so many books. Ms. Oliver and I would sometimes play cards or board games. When I was younger, around five or six, they tried to find me a friend. They brought a girl in to play with me. I remember Ms. Oliver dressed me in long sleeves and my longest pair of gloves. Her name was Rebecca. We played for nearly an hour, with Ms. Oliver and at least four others hovering over us. I didn’t understand what I could do back then, I was too young. They watched us closely at first, but I