Accidentally Yours (Merffy Kizzmet) novel Chapter 8

Lola

The air changed. Lola stared at him, throat tight. Neither of them drank, but they both knew.

She was the first to break eye contact, looking down at her legs–tangled with his on the rug which he had slowly made his way onto while playing the game. “You ever leg wrestle?”

His brow furrowed. “What?”

“Leg wrestling. Like arm wrestling, but with legs, kind of.”

He laughed. “Sounds made up.”

“I beat a six–two linebacker at it once. Bet I could take you.”

He looked her up and down. “Your legs are shorter than my arms.”

“All the better for leverage, darling.”

“Alright,” he said, stretching out beside her on the floor. “Impress me.”

Lola rolled onto her side, bracing for battle. “Prepare to have your ego destroyed.”

“Mentally preparing to be pinned by a feral gremlin with tequila breath.”

“Compliments will get you nowhere.”

“Okay,” she announced, slightly out of breath while they laid on the floor getting into position. “We’re doing this.”

Enzo, lounging against the couch with one arm thrown across the back cushions and a dangerously amused look in his eye, raised a brow. “Doing what? Passing out?”

She shot him a look. “Leg wrestling.”

He blinked. “That’s not a real thing.”

“Oh, it’s real. Midwest backyard champion, two summers in a row.” She kicked off her sock for dramatic effect. “One round. No crying when you lose.”

Total bullshit but I did beat that guy that one time while super drunk.

He smirked, slowly unfolding that large, annoyingly confident frame of his until he was stretched out beside her, feet facing her head, head facing her feet. “You do know your legs are like, half the size of mine, right?”

She grinned, lifting her legs. “All the better to sweep yours out from under you.”

He gave a low chuckle, lifting his own legs to mirror hers. “This some sneaky tattoo artist foreplay?”

“If it was, you’d already be naked.”

A pause. Tension curled up and sat between them like a cat. Tequila hummed warm in her veins. She caught the flicker in his eyes–dark, amused, interested.

Then-

“Three,” she started.

1/4

“Two,” he echoed.

One-

She hooked her leg under his and pushed, but he was fast–too fast–and nearly flipped her. She shrieked, their legs tangling mid–air.

“Jesus, you launch like a trebuchet!” she laughed, breath hitching.

“You’re scrappy as hell,” he growled, grinning.

“Reset.”

Second round. She shifted, ankles brushing his calves, toes curling in concentration. Then–she hooked low and snapped, flipping him hard onto his back with a deep grunt and a thud.

She exploded into laughter, toppling sideways in a fit of giggles. “Victory is mine! Suck it, Don Draper!”

Enzo lay there, winded, one hand covering his face. “I’ve been assaulted by a drunken woodland goblin.”

“You loved it.”

He peeked at her through his fingers, eyes gleaming. “You’re trouble.”

They lay side by side, still breathless, arms just barely brushing. Her pulse hadn’t slowed. Her skin was warm–not from the game or the tequila. From him.

“Are you staying?” she asked, voice smaller than she meant it to be.

“Do you want me to?”

Her throat tightened. “I don’t know.”

He smiled, just a little. “That’s honest.”

They lay there for another long moment, breath syncing, hearts racing, the heat between them almost unbearable in the quiet.

“I’ve never met anyone like you,” he said quietly.

She turned back to the ceiling. “Yeah, well. You’ve got weird taste.”

He chuckled. “Maybe. But I think I’d like to keep it.”

No promises. No confessions. Just too much, too fast, too real–spilled across a cheap floor between two idiots who shouldn’t fit… but did. And for the first time since waking up to a tied–up stranger, Lola didn’t want him to leave.

Lola tugged him toward the bed by the wrist–like a raccoon hauling off snacks it had no intention of sharing. She let go only to climb in ahead of him, flopping sideways and taking up way too much space for someone her size. She pulled the blanket halfway up her legs, then looked over her shoulder like he was taking too long.

Fuck what am I doing? I should really be at home. I can feel everyone losing their shit, I just can’t get my body on board with leaving.

2/4

“Well?” she asked. “What, need an invitation now?”

Enzo just raised a brow.

She blinked, then waved a hand dramatically. “Come. Lie down, hostage.”

He smirked, took off her shirt, climbed in behind her, and shifted onto his back, but before he could get comfortable, she was already rolling toward him- hips bumping his, legs tangling.

Then her palm pressed flat against his chest. “Uh uh. Roll over.”

“I just got settled.”

“Don’t care. Roll over.”

How is this person so small yet so demanding and why do I want to listen? Probably just the tequila.

He snorted, but turned away anyway, landing on his side.

A second later, her warmth of her breath curled against his back which sent goosebumps everywhere. Arms looping around him, legs tucking into his as if docking. Her entired being wrapped against his.

It’s exhilarating. I’m so comfortable. No one’s ever held me like this and even though she’s only half my size I feel so….content.

“Don’t you females normally like being the little spoon?”

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