Playing Fate (Endgame Series Book 1) by Leigh Ann Lunsford Page A

to pick the path her life is taking, so she rebels in other ways.”
    “Mason?” She nods. “I don’t want them to get hurt.”
    “It won’t come to that, Saylor. I promise. They both know what it is, and I think they both use it as a way to avoid commitment to other people. I don’t understand it, but it’s worked for them . . . this isn’t anything new.” Wow. I don’t get it. Sex with Deacon was something I hadn’t experienced before. I’ve had sex a couple times, but I felt him in the deepest parts of me, filling and completing me. It was more than getting off. Which is what he tried telling me . . . and I ran.
     
     

     
     
    The week passed in a blur. I saw everyone on campus and at home. Deacon was coming by, but I wouldn’t allow myself to be alone with him. Our party is tonight, and he’ll be here. I tell myself I’m not curling my hair or taking time with my makeup for him—but that would make me a liar. I talked to my mom earlier and told her I wouldn’t be coming home for Thanksgiving. It isn’t a long enough break, and I don’t want to waste money on a flight. Jack, of course, offered to pay, but I declined. I told them to take a trip; it is their first holiday as a married couple, and they deserve it. I know Avery will be here most of the time, so I figure the rest of them will follow suit. Lee Lee is traveling to see her family out of state, and she is none too pleased. Their hometown and college being twenty minutes apart helps them visit for the holiday and escape when needed.
    The music starts and jolts me, not cute with a mascara wand in my hand. I fix my smudge, put down the makeup, and smooth my hand over my stomach in an attempt to calm the butterflies. I take a sip of the punch Lee Lee brought me to ‘pre-game,’ and my eyes water—that shit is potent. I dump half of it down the sink and head to the kitchen to add ice. I can nurse it all night and still keep my wits. I’ve been promised Alec won’t be attending any parties hosted by us, but I’m still edgy. There’s always another ass wipe lurking.
    My eyes meet his; he’s watching my every move. I smile at him, and he takes that as an invitation to follow me in the kitchen. Shit. I scan the room looking for a distraction. “You look gorgeous, Saylor.” His words hit my ear as he’s bent down to whisper. I smell that damn cologne and his minty breath and have to remind myself why this is a bad idea.
    Inhaling, I turn to him. “Thanks. You aren’t too shabby either, Mr. Douglas.” I wink trying to come across as cool and collected. I’m nowhere near the illusion I show.
    His smirk tells me he reads me like a book—one he wrote. “Save me a dance.” He kisses my jaw and saunters off to his posse. I’m contemplating hiding in my room, but I know I won’t get away with it and that will cause a scene I’m not in the mood for. If he comes near me when I’m in the vicinity of a bed, I won’t be responsible for my actions and that will throw a monkey wrench into the friendship I’m trying to stick to.
    The flirty looks, the overt eye-fucking, the slight brushing as we pass one another . . . it’s driving me fucking nuts. I’m ready to combust. I’ve drunk more than I planned, and I am feeling relaxed. Mingling and talking to people, I’ve seen at the parties but never interacted with. He stays close but keeps distance between us. Seeing Deacon in this element adds a layer to him that’s foreign to me. He lets his guard down . . . he’s a college freshman here, not Julie’s dad. However, he doesn’t let go like his counterparts. I think he’s nursed the same beer all night, but at least he has a carefree attitude I haven’t seen. He had to be lethal in high school—I’m sad I missed it but thankful because I’d be a Deacon Devotee. There are plenty of them around here waiting to get his attention, but his focus remains on me.
    Mason and Lee Lee aren’t going to last much longer without finding a