The Host (The Host #1)(139)

“I’ll take the goal,” Ian told me, while Lily fell back and Wes paced beside the ball. A mismatch. Melanie liked this. Competition appealed to her.

From the moment the game started—Wes kicking the ball back to Lily and then sprinting ahead to get around me for her pass—there was very little time to think. Only to react and to feel. See Lily shift her body, measure the direction this would send the ball. Cut Wes off—ah, but he was surprised by how fast I was—launch the ball to Ian and move up the field. Lily was playing too far forward. I raced her to the lantern goalpost and won. Ian aimed the pass perfectly, and I scored the first goal.

It felt good: the stretch and pull of muscle, the sweat of exertion rather than plain heat, the teamwork with Ian. We were well matched. I was quick, and his aim was deadly. Wes’s goading dried up before Ian scored the third goal.

Lily called the game when we hit twenty-one. She was breathing hard. Not me; I felt good, muscles warm and limber.

Wes wanted another round, but Lily was done.

“Face it, they’re better.”

“We got hustled.”

“No one ever said she couldn’t play.”

“No one ever said she was a pro, either.”

I liked that—it made me smile.

“Don’t be a sore loser,” Lily said, reaching out to tickle Wes’s stomach playfully. He caught her fingers and pulled her closer to him. She laughed, tugging away, but Wes reeled her in and planted a solid kiss on her laughing mouth.

Ian and I exchanged a quick, startled glance.

“For you, I will lose with grace,” Wes told her, and then set her free.

Lily’s smooth caramel skin had taken on a bit of pink on her cheeks and neck. She peeked at Ian and me to see our reaction.

“And now,” Wes continued, “I’m off to get reinforcements. We’ll see how your little ringer does against Kyle, Ian.” He lobbed the ball into the far dark corner of the cave, where I heard it splash into the spring.

Ian trotted off to retrieve it, while I continued to look at Lily curiously.

She laughed at my expression, sounding self-conscious, which was unusual for her. “I know, I know.”

“How long has… that been going on?” I wondered.

She grimaced.

“Not my business. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s not a secret—how could anything be a secret here, anyway? It’s just really… new to me. It’s sort of your fault,” she added, smiling to show that she was teasing me.

I felt a little guilty anyway. And confused. “What did I do?”

“Nothing,” she assured me. “It was Wes’s… reaction to you that surprised me. I didn’t know he had so much depth to him. I was never really aware of him before that. Oh, well. He’s too young for me, but what does that matter here?” She laughed again. “It’s strange how life and love go on. I didn’t expect that.”

“Yeah. Kind of funny how that happens,” Ian agreed. I hadn’t heard him return. He slung his arm around my shoulders. “It’s nice, though. You do know Wes has been infatuated with you since he first got here, right?”

“So he says. I hadn’t noticed.”

Ian laughed. “Then you’re the only one. So, Wanda, how about some one-on-one while we’re waiting?”

I could feel Melanie’s wordless enthusiasm. “Okay.”

He let me have the ball first, holding back, hugging the goal area. My first shot cut between him and the post, scoring. I rushed him when he kicked off, and got the ball back. I scored again.

He’s letting us win, Mel grumbled.

“Come on, Ian. Play.”

“I am.”

Tell him he’s playing like a girl.

“Playing like a girl.”

He laughed, and I slipped the ball away from him again. The taunt wasn’t enough. I had an inspiration then, and I shot the ball through his goal, guessing it would probably be the last time I got to do it.

Mel objected. I don’t like this idea.

I’ll bet it works, though.

I put the ball back at center field. “You win, and you can sleep in my room while they’re gone.” I needed a good night’s rest.

“First to ten.” With a grunt, he launched the ball past me so hard that it rebounded off the distant, invisible wall behind my goal and came back to us.

I looked at Lily. “Was that wide?”

“No, it looked dead center to me.”

“One–three,” Ian announced.

It took him fifteen minutes to win, but at least I got to really work. I even squeezed in one more goal, of which I was proud. I was gasping for air when he stole the ball from me and sailed it through my goalposts for the last time.

He wasn’t winded. “Ten–four, I win.”

“Good game,” I huffed.

“Tired?” he asked, the innocence in his tone a bit overdone. Being funny. He stretched. “I think I’m ready for bed myself.” He leered in a melodramatic way.

I winced.

“Aw, Mel, you know I’m joking. Be nice.”

Lily eyed us, mystified.

“Jared’s Melanie objects to me,” Ian told her, winking.

Her eyebrows rose. “That’s… interesting.”