Eugene’s expression behind Milo’s back was all-knowing. He needed to get a grip if he was seeing heart eyes while Milo was simply trying to keep me fed so I’d win his cards for him. And I needed to remember that too. Milo was only here because he needed something, not because he needed me. I should tattoo that difference on my arm because it was too easy to forget, especially when he plunked down next to me, our legs brushing as he squeezed in so others could pass.
“Oops. Sorry.”
“No worries.” I accepted the food from him and unwrapped my sandwich, which smelled as good as it looked.
“Food okay? You can trade with me if you want. I got meatball.” Milo held out his own sandwich. Cute. He was cute in all senses of the word, and my stomach wobbled. Danger. Danger.
“I’m good.”
“So you keep saying,” he teased. Our gazes met, and his little grin made me want to pretend just for a second that he was here for me, that he was my guy, and that he actually cared about warming me up. He leaned forward. “Tell me about your morning?”
“Not bad. My transforming deck is getting a workout.” I had a couple of competitive decks, but the transforming deck was my standby, and its tricky mechanic was working well against some pricier decks.
“Yeah, it is. You sure that you’re not going for a top-eight finish?” Eugene asked right as his friends arrived with food of their own. He ended up with a girl on either side of him and some sort of fancy salad to eat.
“Nah. I mean, it would be nice, but I’m not all that.”
“You’re too humble,” Milo insisted, bumping shoulders with me. “I saw you win a number of rounds. Lots of points?”
Points. Yeah. His cards. Why we were there. Sigh. “Some.”
Truth was that I was a bit behind where I wanted to be, and I needed to rack up some more wins before someone else claimed the cards from the prize wall.
“You can do it.” Milo’s faith in me was both humbling and irritating because I wasn’t sure what would happen if I failed. Would he want out of the bargain? Would I even see him again? I hated the uncertainty but hated myself more for caring so much.
We passed the rest of the meal break with more small talk with Eugene, who had all the latest gossip on our other gamer friends. Milo mainly let the conversation swirl around him, but he wasn’t sullen about it. More like he was content to listen, and I liked his quiet presence far more than I should. If I could get past the whole jerk-from-high-school thing, I had to admit he’d probably make someone a good boyfriend. Not me, obviously. But someone.
“Hey. What about you? You have someone?” I asked as Milo walked me back into the main gaming space.
“Someone what?” Milo scrunched up his face, thinking far too hard for a guy who probably had a flock of girls following him, same as Eugene.
“You asked earlier if I had a boyfriend. And I realized that I’m not the only one giving up my weekend. You have a girlfriend who’s going to care about your new toga-wearing hobby?”
“No.” The tips of Milo’s ears went pink. “No girlfriend.”
“Back at college?” I pressed, way too interested in finding out who Milo had been the last few years.
Shrugging, he pursed his mouth. “Not really. I had friends, but nothing like that.”
I read between the lines to see a string of hookups. “Ah. A player. Should have guessed.”
“I wouldn’t say that—”
“Jasper! I get to play you again.” Naomi, a fellow cosplayer who loved dressing as a reaper bride, greeted me. Her stuff was already set up, and I had to scramble to get my mat and cards out. No time to dwell on Milo’s denial. And it wasn’t my business what he had or had not been doing at college.
What mattered now was winning him the cards he needed. Not for the first time that day I wished I’d been able to finish that road trip last summer and play in the big national tournament. That would have honed my skills more for regional competitions like these. As it was, Naomi was a skilled player, one who had beaten me in both casual and competitive play before, and she demanded my full attention. Still, though, I was all too aware of Milo hovering nearby. At one point in the game I glanced over, and he gave me this encouraging smile that made my heart do a most unwelcome flip.
I messed up an attack step, and Naomi went in for the kill. I narrowly managed to block the lethal blow. I couldn’t afford another loss. By my calculations, I needed this match and one more. No more looking in Milo’s direction. Head in the game in more than one way. I had a mission and I couldn’t afford any more mistakes.
Chapter Twelve
Milo
I wanted Jasper to win, but not only for the reasons he thought. Rather, I wanted him to win because I liked the way he smiled when he won, liked the looseness in his step, liked the way he’d joke with me in between matches. Every win made me buoyant, riding high on his good mood. I hadn’t forgotten about him needing points for the prize card, but I was having fun simply hanging out at the tournament, meeting his friends, watching him play. I liked seeing the hustle and bustle of the tournament, but also liked the way Jasper reigned over it, gamer royalty almost.
Everyone seemed to know him either from the vlog he was on or past tournaments and events. And they all liked him. He was…popular. Which shouldn’t have been that surprising—he’d always been an easy-to-like guy, but high school was not kind to nice guys like Jasper. Yet he’d survived, no thanks to me. And now here he was, thriving. He’d found where he belonged, and I couldn’t stop the ache in my chest as I wished I could say the same for me.
“Move to attack.” Jasper narrowed his eyes. I’d watched and played enough Odyssey to know this was likely his Hail Mary move, a last-ditch effort to stay alive before Naomi did him in. And her smug smile said she knew it as she moved her cards into position to block.
“Any responses?” She sounded bored, probably already looking ahead to her next match.
“Yup.” One by one, Jasper flipped his cards over, playing the scrolls to transform them into bigger attackers. Freaking brilliant. I’d seen him pull similar moves all morning, and I was still impressed. It was like watching a soccer star zip down the field, avoiding the defense and scoring the winning goal against all odds.
“Oh, f—flying monkey butts. Really?” Naomi thumped her own head. “How did I not see that coming?”
“Because I’m good.” Jasper smiled, energy infectious, making Naomi smile back even as she groaned.
“Yeah, you are.” After considering the board for a long minute, she stuck out her hand. “Good game.”
I managed to wait until Jasper was packing up to hurry over. I smacked him on the shoulder. “You did it!”
“Yeah, I did. Ow.” Jasper rubbed his shoulder.
“Oops. Too much?” Sometimes I didn’t know my own strength. Or maybe he didn’t want me touching him. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Your enthusiasm is appreciated even if your hands might need a warning label.”
“Sorry.” Feeling bad, I reached out and massaged his lean shoulder. And damn. I was woefully unprepared for how good touching him deliberately like this felt, heat rushing through me. He tensed before groaning and going more pliant. For a second that stretched into an eternity, the rest of the crowded ballroom fell away, and it was only us, him melting under my touch and me catching fire.
Then someone coughed and I remembered where the heck we were. My hand fell away right as someone jostled me from behind. “Pardon me.”
“No problem.” Heart still hammering, I moved out the way so a guy with a red deck bag could pass.
“Sorry,” I said again to Jasper after the dude was gone.
“No problem. But you might want to warn a guy before you go handing out massages like that.” Jasper’s voice was light, but not particularly flirty. Still, though, something about his tone made my skin all toasty
as I followed him to his next match.
“I…uh…might wander the vendor booths while you do this round.”
“Sure.” Jasper sounded distracted, but that probably had more to do with his next opponent, a middle-aged guy, than me. The weird energy thrumming between us was undoubtedly my own hallucination, and I tried to push it from my head as I made my way through the various stalls.
They featured cards galore and accessories like dice, but also T-shirts and things like magnets and buttons. I’d had no idea the level of merch gamers could collect. It reminded me of those dudes back at college who did their whole room as an ode to their favorite sports team. And posters. One booth had a long line of people waiting to buy art, and a woman with long, gray hair was signing each poster or small print.
“You in the market for a McMurtle?” Eugene appeared out of nowhere, entourage in tow.
“A McWhat?” My response got a big laugh from Eugene and his friends.
“She’s Sylvia McMurtle. Famous Odyssey artist. Does a lot of the art for cards and other merch. Lives near here so she comes to the local events sometimes.”
“And people pay for her signature?” I got that the cards could be super pretty, but it still made my head buzz that someone could get that popular simply from some drawings.
“And how.” Eugene quoted a price for a print that made my jaw fall open.
“Wow.”
“Yup. How’s your boy doing? I think I’ve locked up a spot in the quarterfinals, but we’ll see.” Eugene all but blew on his knuckles as he humble-bragged.
“Jasper’s kicking butt. He’s probably one of the best players here.” Aside from wanting to talk up Jasper out of loyalty, I wasn’t kidding. I’d far rather watch Jasper than any other player, so that had to count for something.
“He’s all right. Bet he at least adds to his transforming card collection with his points.”
“Yeah,” I said weakly. Crap. If all went well, Jasper wouldn’t be adding to his own collection, and for the first time all day, my stomach rebelled. Funny how hanging out with Jasper calmed me down on more than one level. But now bitterness sloshed around in my gut and made my throat tighten. I didn’t like keeping Jasper from getting something for himself.
Maybe there was something I could do. Something more than simply playing Neptune, which was more about his group. Something for him. It was strange the way he made me want to take care of him. But it wasn’t really a nurturing sort of feeling. Like, I wasn’t turning into my mom. More like I wanted him to ask—to demand something from me, something that only I could give him. Not for the first time, an erotic parade of images danced through my brain. There wasn’t much I didn’t want to give him. He wouldn’t ever ask, of course, but that didn’t stop me from wanting.
“There you are!” Almost like my fevered thoughts had conjured him, Jasper came striding toward us.
“That was fast.” Heck. No way had he pulled out a win that quickly, but I didn’t want to let my disappointment show.
“Yup.” Then Jasper grinned, and I drank in his smile like I was chugging down electrolytes after a two-hour match. I might never get enough of seeing him beam.
“You won?”
“You doubted?”
“Nah.” I went to clap him on the shoulder, but both the memory of earlier and Eugene’s speculative look had me pulling back before I could touch him.
“Liar. And I missed a top-eight finish by five points!” Jasper bounced on his feet, all but dancing. He was so damn excited. And it was for me. It was humbling. I’d spent so much of my life being a selfish ass, while Jasper was the opposite. He did so much for others, and it seemed to genuinely make him happy. But unlike his sister and the kids at the hospital, I wasn’t so sure I was worthy of that much goodness.
“Wow.” I wanted to tell him thank you, but not with an audience. And even those words wouldn’t be enough to describe everything happening in my brain.
“Come on. Let’s go check out the prize wall.” Jasper tugged on my arm before he seemed to realize that we were all but holding hands right there. He dropped his hand, but I didn’t need any enticement to follow him anyway.
“Pick out something pretty.” Eugene laughed as he waved us away.
I followed Jasper, but my head was still a churning cement mixer of weighty feels. I wanted to be bouncy like Jasper, but the not-worthy feeling kept rising to the top of the mix.
“Maybe you should…” I finally mumbled.
“Should what?” Slowing down, Jasper turned toward me.
“Should pick out something for yourself.” Unable to meet his gaze, I studied the carpet, tried to catalog all the various shades of brown.
“Hey, a deal’s a deal. What’s with the sudden attack of guilt?” As always, Jasper wasn’t afraid to call me on my bullshit. And yeah, that’s what it was. Guilt. Obviously, I wanted the cards, but I also didn’t want to keep being a crap human.
“I don’t want to use you,” I mumbled. “I mean, clearly I need your help. But…”
“But?” Jasper stepped closer, almost as if he were about to touch me.
With want gathering low in my belly, my hands clenched and unclenched. “You worked super hard today. Thank you.”
Jasper exhaled hard, like I’d whacked him again. Emotions skittered across his face, but none I could label. Then, almost like he’d come to some unspoken conclusion, he nodded. “Well, I had appropriate motivation. And thank you.”
“I mean it. I appreciate this.”
“Good.” Jasper resumed his journey to the big booth at the back of the room. “Remember that come the costume ball.”
“I will.” I wasn’t supposed to look forward to wearing the costume with a room full of bigwigs, but the ball no longer seemed like such a punishment.
“Oh, heck.” Jasper’s face fell before I could finish sorting myself out. He pointed at the glass case at the front of the booth. “Only one of the two cards they advertised is left.”
Crap. To have had him play so hard and come up short sucked. I gave him an awkward pat on the arm. “It’s okay. One is better than none.”
“Yeah. Here’s what I’m going to do.” Jasper rubbed his hands together. He was so damn good at not getting knocked down long. “I’ll get the one Frog Court card, then I’ll use the remaining points on another premium rare. We can hope to maybe turn it into another card for you via a swap or something down the road.”
“We? You’re going to keep helping me?” I’d been worried all day that this was as far as his assistance went. I couldn’t ask him to keep giving up time to help me with my quest. But if he was offering…
“Guess this quest is growing on me.” Jasper’s crooked smile took all my anxiety and made it into something far warmer.
“Good.” I couldn’t help but hope that I was growing on him too, softening his dislike, redeeming myself in some way.
Jasper exchanged his points for the cards, but it wasn’t until we were back in the car that he took the Frog Court card back out, holding the plexiglass case up to the light. It was a lot of case for a single card, but maybe if Bruno had displayed his cards like this, I would have better understood their rarity.
“Wow, it’s so pretty.” Jasper’s awestruck expression was even more intoxicating than his usual smile. Something about his tone and the light in his eyes made my mind flit back to my earlier thoughts. He could have asked me for anything right then. Anything.
“Yeah, it is.” My voice came out too husky, and I wasn’t looking at the card. “Thank you.”
“Didn’t think I’d say this, but it was my pleasure.” He turned toward me, and maybe he hadn’t been expecting how tight the quarters in the Mustang were. Maybe I’d been leaning too close. Maybe our bodies knew more than we did. Regardless of the reason, our faces were suddenly centimeters apart. I could feel his breath, warm in the c
hilly air.
I inhaled sharply, but I didn’t move away. Neither of us did. He opened his mouth slightly, pink tongue darting out to lick at his full lower lip. And all the want that had been simmering inside me all day finally bubbled over. I might die if I didn’t get to know what he tasted like. I might die if I did, but it was a chance I had to take. Closing the distance between us in a graceful move despite my frantically beating heart, I brushed my lips across his. And waited.
Chapter Thirteen
Jasper
One moment I was cold and excited and ogling a rare Odyssey card, and the next I was kissing Milo. And still excited and not cold at all, and hell, was that a priceless card I was holding? Thank God for decorative display cases because I would have crushed unsleeved cardboard.
Because.
Kissing.
Milo.
Right that second, his lips glancing across mine in a sweet, almost hesitant kiss. Anyone less strung out on adrenaline would have had the good sense to pull away. But all I seemed capable of doing was sighing and leaning in closer, all that delicious energy from winning surging inside me. My little noise must have seemed like encouragement to Milo because he repeated the gesture, lips lingering, less sweetness and more hunger.
That hunger blocked all my usual bad-idea sensors and replaced my inner warning system with an elevated awareness of Milo’s every atom. The softness of his lips. The faint brush of his stubble. His rapid breathing. His big hand connecting with my shoulder. But not to push me away. No, he hauled me even closer, my thigh getting up close and personal with the console. And not even the possibility of bruising was enough to slow me down.
I. Was. Kissing. Milo.
At fourteen, I’d dreamed of this nightly, a tightly held secret yearning, never uttered aloud to a single soul. And I’d had a million daring ideas for how to plant one on him, all of which faded come morning, stark reality keeping me quiet. He’d been my best friend, and that had been enough right up until he wasn’t. Never once had I considered that he might kiss me.
Out of Character Page 8
