More Than You Might Think [Ringo Starr]

Chapter 2

I walked in to see Ringo sending weird looks our way. I was still holding onto George's wrist. I let him go and plopped myself down on the couch between Ringo and John and started playing with Paul's hair, who happened to be sitting on the floor in front of me. 

"Why don't we play a game or somethin'? Got any ideas, love?" Paul asked looking up at me. 

"Me? You're the one that wants to play a game!"

"Yes, but you're the one who always knows what to do!" He said matching my accusatory tone.  I looked around the room for inspiration when I landed on John gulping down his bottle of beer. 

"What, love? I know I'm pretty but ye don't 'ave ta stare. It's rude y'know!" John quipped at me. 

"Fuck off Lennon," I smacked him in the head, "I was just thinking we could play spin the bottle or something." I said, making all the boys look back at me with confused faces.

"If ye want a kiss just ask, no need ta beat around the bush." John spoke up, making kissy faces at me. 

"No, it's a different kind of spin the bottle. Basically someone spins the bottle and asks the  person it lands on a question that they have to answer. No exceptions!" I said walking over to the kitchen to grab an unopened bottle of beer.

"I rather play the other kind." John said suggestively, eyeing me up and down as I walked back in the room–earning an elbow to the ribs from Ringo. 

"It's ok John you don't need an excuse to kiss Paul, we won't judge you! Right boys?" I looked over to Ringo and George who were dying of laughter, and Paul who was giving me the grumpiest look I've ever seen. 

"Tha' shut him right up, well done y/n." George said still hunched over in laughter. 

"Don't worry I still gorra  lorra things ta say." John threw a pillow from my couch at George and Ringo.

"Yeah, you always gorra lorra things ta say." I said mimicking his accent.

"Ok, Ok! Let's play the game. I think it could be fun. I'll go first, give me tha', y/n." Paul said gesturing towards the bottle in my hand. I handed it to him and made everyone sit in a circle, with Ringo and Paul sitting on either side of me and John and George on the other side of the circle. 

. . . 

When it was my turn to spin, it landed on John.

"Ok John, have you ever had a wet dream of anyone in this circle? If so, who?" I saw the devilish grin forming on his face and quickly add, "It can't be me! Has to be one of the boys, Lennon!" I pointed an accusatory finger in his direction. 

"Ok fine, Ringo. I'm not sayin' anymore than tha', so don't ask." He said in a very serious and stern tone. I looked over to Ringo who was red in the face and struggling to sit comfortably.

"Not what I expected, but interesting none the less." I said sliding the bottle to John. When the bottle landed back on me, I knew I was in for it. 

"Alright y/n, which one of us would you most want ta sleep with? Oh and it can definitely be me." He said wiggling his eyebrows at me. My initial thought: Oh Shit! I saw Ringo yank his eyes off the floor, suddenly very interested in what I had to say. I felt myself going completely red and felt so exposed seeing that everyone's eyes were trained on me, eager for my answer. 

"Ah, I don't know." I could hardly look any of them in the eyes.

"No exceptions, yer words not mine!" John yelled playfully. 

"George." I answered abruptly not wanting this to go on a moment longer. I looked up at George to see if he was disgusted by my answer, but he was just giving me the cutest shy little smile. His reaction made me feel a lot more at ease. I stopped John before he could send the bottle over to me.

"I forfeit my turn to McCartney. I need a break from this." I said still not fully recovered from the embarrassment I had caused myself earlier. Paul took the bottle and spun it. Great! It landed on me.

"Fuck me." I whisper-yelled, earning a chuckle from the boys. 

"So we all know ye want ta do the dirty with Georgie 'ere," Paul took a second to mess up George's hair, "but which one of us is yer favorite?" 

"Oh, easy! Ringo." I said leaning my head on Ringo's shoulder; he looked down at me and ran his hands through my hair. He gave me a smile but there was a sadness in his eyes that confused me. Was he disappointed? Those were definitely his disappointment eyes. Why though? I just said he's my favorite, why is he sad? Maybe I'm reading it wrong.

. . .

George was the first to leave. He shot me a wink as he walked out the door, which brought up all my previous embarrassment. I gave him the finger, but I couldn't stay mad at him for too long. As John and Paul left, John gave me a 32 tooth grin.

"George huh? I always took ye for a McCartney typa girl." He said mockingly.

"Me too." Paul chimed in from behind us.

"Well you guys were both wrong. Now get your asses out of my house before I slap ya' silly!" I say trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably, as John and Paul scurry away feigning fear. I closed the door and walked backed to Ringo on the couch. He looked over at me seeming hesitant to speak up.

"So ya like Geo then?" He asked timidly. 

"No. Well, yeah maybe. I think he's kind of cute, but I don't actually want to be more than friends when it comes down to it. At least I don't think I do." I answered honestly.

"You wanna spend the night Ritchie? It could be like when we were 17 and we always use to sleep at each others' houses." He gave me the same sad smile as before.

"No, I've got to 'ed back 'ome. I think I left me milk out the fridge." He got up,  gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek before heading out the door. 

A lie! He didn't have any milk at home. Maybe he's still mad at me for inviting the boys over.

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Clueless, aren't we?