by Kitty Cox
He shrugged the guy's hand from his shoulder and headed toward the pool tables. Drake was a big guy, but so was Chance. The difference was that Chance had done this a few times. He didn't always find the single ladies, and sometimes their boyfriends or husbands were a bit upset about it. He'd learned to hold his own. Not that he had any interest in fighting, but it was a part of the game. If he wanted to posture for a piece of ass, sometimes the fight was a part of it.
It wasn't hard to find her. Bent over a pool table, Amy was racking the balls together. Standing across from her was the guy who'd been so interested in the games. Chance smiled. Perfect. Less reason for brainless back there to get pissed.
He set his beer on the corner of the table. "So what would make you give up WoW?"
Amy set another ball into the triangle, and her lips curled. Only when she was done did she look up. "It's complicated."
"You old enough to drink?"
Her eyes flicked to his bottle. "Almost."
Chance nodded and pushed it toward her. "Yeah. Dunno what I did with mine. Guess I need another." His eyes flicked over her. "Or maybe I should get a daiquiri?"
"Cherry." Amy looked over her shoulder. The gesture was subtle, but Chance caught it.
"Yeah. Good call." He looked at the kid with the pool cue. "Chance, by the way."
"Luke. I won't say no to the beer."
"All yours, man."
This time, he hit up another bar. The guy behind the counter never even asked, just made the drink and passed him a second beer. The tip may have had something to do with it, but Chance didn't really care. By the time he returned, Luke had already taken a shot, and not an impressive one. Amy was moving around the table, her eyes assessing the possible plays.
"You realize you're giving me the advantage for the next game?" He placed the drink by her elbow.
"Doesn't matter. I'll beat you either way." She never looked at him but did acknowledge the drink.
Luke was amused. He tilted his bottle and moved to stand by Chance. "This is what she does. She's also taken."
"Me too." He watched Amy's spine stiffen. "Doesn't mean I can't enjoy a good game. Like I said, I got kicked out of the shop for a few hours."
"You really work at Deviant?" Luke asked.
Chance couldn't help it, he laughed at that. Turning to the kid, he offered his hand. "Chance Hunter."
Amy added, "He owns the company."
"Co-owns," Chance corrected.
It didn't matter, Luke was star-struck. "No shit? What's the scoop? Is Silk really amazing?"
"Yes, wait for F5, and yes."
"C'mon," Luke begged. "Gimme something."
Chance nodded slowly, his eyes on the girl's tiny waist as she made a successful shot. "Ok. Impress me. Prove to me you deserve to know."
"Man, I started playing with EQ1," Luke said. "I think I've tried every AAA title out there. I'm currently into MOBAs but play some Battlefield too. Yeah, and I've got a max level Rogue and Paladin in WoW."
"Same as the rest of the world," Chance told the kid. "Keep trying." He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Mark, asking for an alpha code.
"I'm dying to see how you get FPS and tab combat to work together. I mean, there's no way that's gonna happen. Either you put the shooter style at a disadvantage, or you end up with tabbers screaming because of dodge modifiers."
His phone vibrated with a reply. Chance pulled a business card from his wallet and a pen from his back pocket. Damn, he was getting old when he carried this stuff around like it was normal. While Amy kept going, he quickly wrote the code, making sure the letters and numbers were clear.
"You win," Chance told him, passing over the card. "On the website, top right, button for alpha access. Fill in the information to apply, and put the code in for special authorization. Vehicles use tab, infantry uses FPS, but mech suits are infantry rated vehicles. Damage is treated as heat seekers with an imperfect follow ability. Strafing increases the dodge modifiers."
"Fucking brilliant," Luke said, taking the card. "Serious as shit, I get to test?"
Chance nodded. "Serious as shit, man. We want harsh feedback, too. Dez keeps the bugs out of the code, but the entertainment factor is too subjective. We're all in love with it, so we’re biased."
The balls cracked, and Amy hissed a string of delicate profanity. "You're up, Luke."
"Right," he said.
Only then did Amy take a sip of her drink. She moved to Chance's side, but her eyes were roaming the crowd. "Drake doesn't like it when strange guys try to pick me up, but since you've got a girlfriend, I guess that makes it ok?"
Chance waited until Luke was on the other side of the table, then turned to face her. "If that's what you want to tell yourself. I don't see you chasing me off."
"Thought we were talking games."
"We are, just not the video type."
Those heavily lined lids dropped slightly. "He'll break you."
He just lifted his beer and took a healthy drink. "They always think that. Thing is, he won't break you."
"I have to go home with him."
Chance nodded. "Yet you're still scared of him. You're smarter than that."
She was tall and lean, like a model, but not as fragile. Amy squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, then turned her anger on him. "You have no fucking room to talk, Mr. Bribe-my-friends-with-alpha-access."
He caught her chin in his hand and made her look up at him. "I bribed your friends, not mine. Make you a bet. I win this game, you let down the walls."
"And if I win?" She flicked her eyebrows at him.
Chance lifted his chin, waiting. "Name it."
She looked at him, thoughts flickering behind her eyes before she decided to go with something safe. "I get one of those codes."
"Rules?" he asked.
"Free for all, no touching the balls."
Chance leaned just a bit closer. "I'm not dumb enough to take that wrong, and you're not used to losing."
Chapter 19
Amy beat Luke quickly, then racked the pool balls again. She offered Chance the option of going first, but he passed. She was expecting him to play this game like most men. He almost felt sorry for her.
Bending low over the table, letting her cleavage show intentionally, she flicked her eyes between the cue ball and the rest. Chance said nothing, just took a long sip of his beer and leaned back against the table, his eyes searching for her boyfriend. The guy wasn't hard to find. Six foot one and wearing nothing but black, he was in the far corner, talking to a group of men dressed a little too nice. Chance heard the break but was looking for his advantage.
Amy moved around the table. "You're making this too easy," she taunted.
Chance grunted at her, barely paying attention. Luke had taken his treasured beer and found the rest of their friends, the gaggle of them clustered around a table against the wall. He was on display, and he knew exactly what the kid was telling them. Scanning the crowd, he saw Drake pass something to the guy before him, then glance back. Chance's eyes had moved on before the bastard noticed him.
"How long has he been dealing?" Chance asked Amy.
She tensed. "What makes you say that?"
"The meth he just slipped the guy he's talking to. He's not exactly subtle." Chance turned back to the table. "The most confusing thing is that you don't use."
Big dark eyes looked up at him, but she didn't move her cue. "You sound awfully sure of that."
"I am. One thing I know is people. You've smoked pot a handful of times. You get drunk when you're with enough friends, but not if you have to go home with him. He's very careful not to leave marks, though, and you're too embarrassed to say anything."
She cracked the felt tip against the white ball, scattering the rest, but nothing fell. Amy closed her eyes and pulled herself up, turning her head to him before she lifted her lids. "Stay out of my life. It's not a pretty place, rich boy."
"Kinda broke actually. Put everything I have into a dream."
He plucked the stick from her hand. "And while your ass is really cute, you're not making any promises, so it loses the appeal."
He scanned the table, looking for the best shot, and Amy trailed behind him. When he bent to take it, she leaned beside his ear. "You have a girlfriend."
A smile touched his mouth. "It's complicated, but she's the one that picked you." Smoothly, gently, without any concern, he knocked the solid ball into the corner.
"Me?" Amy asked.
Chance shrugged. "Goth and pretty. I added vulnerable." The next shot was easy.
By this time, Amy was trailing after him like a puppy. "I'm not vulnerable."
Chance turned to her, changing direction fast enough to trap her against the table. He looked down, his head tilted just slightly, and waited for her to melt. Her hands found the edge of the pool table and she licked her lips, well aware that he could kiss her so easily.
"You want it, but you won't give in. I'm not sure you want me, though." He leaned just a hair closer to her, the movement too subtle for anyone else to notice. "Sometimes not touching is even more appealing than grabbing you and throwing you onto this table."
"Would forfeit the game," she said breathlessly.
"You didn't say no." He stepped away and found his shot. Then another. "Did you want a second try at this, or should I clean the table?"
She stopped following and pressed her hands down, trying hard not to let him control her so easily. "You really think that arrogance is working for you?"
He laughed and flubbed the next shot, then held out the cue for her. "Yes. I think you like the idea of someone strong enough to protect you."
"Hm." Amy moved to his side, then pressed close against him. Chance didn't move, so she pressed closer. "I think you're like every other man in the world." She said it like it was a bad thing.
He gently adjusted her aim so she'd actually make the shot. "I'm worse, little dove, but I have no intention of clipping your wings."
"I still have a boyfriend."
"Yeah. That's a problem for you, isn't it."
She took the shot. Her ball spun across the table, bounced, then headed right back at them, coming near the side pocket. It lost momentum right at the edge. Her nose wrinkled as she begged for it to go in.
Chance grabbed the table and tugged slightly. It was just enough. The ball tipped over the edge. "See, funny thing – I don't care if I win this game."
"I just want alpha access." She brushed past him to find her next angle.
This time, he followed. "What happened to not wanting to roll a new toon?"
"You want honest critique." She refused to look at him, trying so hard to focus on the game.
He leaned beside her. "Are you aware that I have you completely distracted and I haven't even touched you yet?"
Her head finally turned. "Yet?"
"Oh, it'll happen. Thing is, I'm not after your long legs. I'll admit, those black lips are a real good reason to be persuasive, but the mind? That's your best asset. You should make more of it."
"I'm kicking your ass at pool," she reminded him. "I thought I was making just enough of it."
"So did you want me to kick his ass tonight, or were you hoping to sneak out of here?"
The fifteen spun, bouncing around harmlessly, but set up a few very nice shots for him. Amy dragged her tongue over her upper lip. "Fuck."
"You'd have to answer the question first."
She shoved the cue at him, her jaw set. "I don't do threesomes."
"Not how it works. My girl doesn't touch." He tilted his head from one side to the other, softening that. "Not normally, at any rate. I'm completely in love with her, but I can't touch her. She accepts that I need more, so this is our compromise. It's completely flawed, but it works."
Amy grabbed his arm and turned it, reading the tattoo. "Any connection?"
"Plenty." Chance turned back to the pool table.
She was good, but he was better. He'd spent his youth playing this game. Every time he'd had a problem, he'd worked it out while smashing balls around in his parent's basement. He was good. He could have been really good, but he'd focused on women instead. That was the one thing Chance knew inside and out, but games – all of them – were a very close second. Put them together like this, and he felt like the god Dez always accused him of being.
One by one, he made his shots. He was done fucking around. Amy was ready to crack. She might not be ready to sleep with him, but oddly that wasn't his true goal. He wanted to know what was up with her and Drake. Why was she so scared of him? What was it that left so much heartache in her eyes? He didn't give her another chance to save her ego. No, he wanted the prize. If he won, she let down the walls.
"Eight ball in the corner," he announced.
"How?" Amy asked.
Chance offered her a wicked smile, then took the shot. He hit the ten, bounced that off the side, and clipped the back of the fourteen. It rolled just far enough to tap the eight. "About like that," he said as the ball tumbled into the pocket. "I think you owe me some honesty."
"You keep talking to me and Drake won't take it well."
He shrugged. "Don't really fucking care. We running another match or finding a table?"
"Table," Amy said. "You're buying drinks."
"What do you want?"
"Sprite?" She shrugged. "It's not a good day to get drunk."
"I can do that." He headed to the bar to get Sprite for her, Coke for him. He sat down across from her and decided to start easy. "So, why are you hanging out with this crowd?" Before she could get upset, he held up his hand. "I mean this crowd, not the dress code."
"They're my friends."
He shook his head. "Doesn't really seem like it. Luke, maybe, but not the rest. You're barely in the group." He tipped his head at the gaggle on the other side of the pool hall.
Amy sighed. "They're Drake's friends."
"Addicts?"
She pressed her lips together, thinking hard before answering. "Not Luke."
"OK. So you're trapped. Why?"
Amy's mouth opened and she lifted her palms to the sky. "How the fuck do you do that? How do you even make these guesses?"
Chance smiled. "Body language. So?"
"I quit the dorms because Drake wanted me to move in. I had no idea he was dealing, not until I had nowhere else to go." She rubbed her forehead and sighed. "I just have to make it until the end of the semester."
"Just under two weeks?" He knew because F5 was always the week after the last summer session. "Then what?"
She shrugged. "Try to get a job, find a place to move? I've kinda hinted to Luke about it, but he's in a one-bedroom, and his girlfriend kinda hates me."
"Makes it harder. No other friends in town?"
She tilted her head. "How'd you know I'm not a local?"
"Because you haven't caved and moved back with your parents yet. They'd take you, even if they have no idea about your fashion sense. You've probably let them believe you're still the quiet preppy girl they packed up a few years ago and sent off to become a genius."
Amy nodded. "Yeah. I – "
Chance lifted a finger, halting her, then looked over her shoulder. "Drake is jealous. So, let's get back to what would make you quit WoW?"
"Do I really need to quit it?" She looked back, smiled, then waved at Drake.
Chance turned his back to the wall. It wouldn't be long before the bastard was back over to shake him down. "No, but I need to know what will make someone invest in Silk and how to retain their interest long enough to get Flawed out."
"Is this game your whole life?"
She had no idea. "Yes. It's also responsible for at least seven, and up to twenty other lives. It's how we pay our bills, and my team is like a family." He shrugged. "Quite a few of the devs packed up and moved out here for the chance. Kinda feels wrong to not respect that."
"And we're back to respect," she teased.
"You deserve it."
Her hands were light on th
e glass when she lifted it to her mouth, but her eyes were intent. "This coming from the guy trying to pick up a one night stand because he can't go without?"
His fingers slipped down the wet side of his own glass, watching the moisture pool. "I told you, it's complicated."
"Yet you're diving right into my complexity." She lifted her chin, daring him.
Chance checked Drake again. The guy was keeping an eye on them, but not making a move. Oddly, he wanted to tell her, and it made the words come out easily. "Everyone is flawed, Amy. Every single person. Some of us can fake it well, others can't. We still have our issues, and we have to address them." He slowly forced his eyes to her. "I use my lovers to justify my existence. I've learned how to read people, how to ease their problems – as a form of thanking them for what they give me."
"Justify your existence?" She ducked her head slightly, begging him to explain.
"Yeah. Um, if I can't manipulate the people around me, I feel like I’m fading from existence." He offered a weak smile, knowing it sounded abnormal. "It's not the manipulation, but the simple acknowledgment of me. Proof that I am real."
"You think you're fake?"
"Sometimes it feels like I'm a ghost, like the world just forgets about me." He shoved back his hair then rested his head against that hand. "Then I do stupid shit like last night. Not sure why I'm telling you this."
"Because I'm listening," she said softly.
He nodded slowly, knowing exactly what she meant. "I've been trying to quit – to stay away from other women – and doing pretty well, but last night I brought home this sweet little business professional. Not a clue that she was anything but a lonely woman. Bitch fucked me up. Bit hard enough to draw blood, scratched the fuck out of my back, and just got off on the violence." He shifted, trying to break their gaze, but it didn't work. "I lost my temper. Figured if she wanted it rough, I'd give her rough, and if she didn't care about how I felt, then I shouldn't about her, you know? I had my way with her body."
"She probably liked it."
Chance nodded. "I think so. Thing is, I'm pretty sure Dez saw. I was fucking this girl like I was taking it from her, and I know Dez could see. It had to fucking look like I was raping her."
