The #5Star Affair (Love Hashtagged Book 1)

by Lindt, Allyson

  The #5Star Affair

  Love Hashtagged #1

  Allyson Lindt

  This book is a work of fiction.

  While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 by Allyson Lindt

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Acelette Press

  Blurb

  Jaycie Wharry is one of gaming’s most infamous reviewers—under the intentionally vague pseudonym J-Dub. Most of her friends didn’t even know what she really did for a living. Then again, one in particular was missing a few solder points in his neural circuits, and she traded that life in as fast as she could when his infatuation with her translated into a threat to her safety. Her new roommate, Ethan, is just supposed to be a firewall against the past, but they’re heating up the wires faster than an X-box on a summer’s day.

  Ethan's goals in life are simple—pay off his student loans before he's thirty, start his own gaming company, and keep the emotional attachments to a minimum so he can stay on task. Though, he's willing to make an exception on the last one for his new roommate. She holds her own in a first person shooter as well as she does in a debate, but still yields in the most delicious way behind closed doors. So what if she reviews the same kind of video games he writes? A little planning and there won't be any conflict of interest.

  When one of Ethan’s friends leaks Jaycie’s reviewing identity to the entire internet, accusing her of sleeping with developers in exchange for her 5-star approval, both of their careers are threatened. Since slapping a gag-order on the internet to protect their jobs, privacy, and safety isn’t an option, Jaycie and Ethan will need to archive all their preconceived notions, or watch their future—with each other and in general—crash in an unrecoverable way.

  For my eternal dragon

  Chapter One

  Ethan scanned the diner, gaze flashing over each face long enough to register there was someone there, before moving to the next person. Tables topped with Formica and trimmed with steel dotted the room, the matching chairs occupied by couples, families, and a few individuals, but were any of them Jaycie?

  Probably not. He was almost ten minutes early. Maybe he should have asked her for a picture. He’d been happy enough to have someone reasonable answer his Craigslist ad for a roommate, he hadn’t thought past agreeing to meet somewhere public, and that she knew people. She’d been the only person to email him who didn’t lead with something like, “I’ve got three full sized dogs, is that okay?” or “the rent’s kind of high, can you spot me for the first month?”

  A tune he’d know anywhere mingled with the light chatter in the room, and he was seeking out the source of the Mario Brothers ringtone before he registered his own response. A woman at the far end of the counter glanced at her phone, her black hair forming a curtain around her face. She shook her head, clicked something, and then looked out at the dining room.

  When her gaze met his, his breath hitched. Wide, pale green eyes stared back at him. A smile twitched on her full lips before she turned her attention back to her phone.

  Was that her? A tingle of heat and anticipation raced over his skin. And if it were, was that good or bad? She was gorgeous. He definitely wouldn’t mind getting to know her better, but if she was about to be his roommate, that made her off limits for any more intimate kind of relationship.

  She was also the only woman in the diner alone, who looked like she was in her mid to late twenties. Only way to find out for sure would be to ask, and if she wasn’t Jaycie, at least he could chat this woman up about her ringtone until his appointment arrived.

  He summoned his warmest expression, and dropped into an empty stool next to her at the bar. “I don’t suppose you’re Jaycie?”

  Laughter danced in her eyes. “I’m so glad you didn’t open with a line like ‘do you come here often?’ or ‘is this seat taken?’”

  Her dry tone and the fact she hadn’t told him no were good signs. She also hadn’t said yes. “Do you get that a lot?” he asked.

  “Not as much as the movies tell me I should. I don’t know if I should be wounded or relieved.” Her smile reached her eyes. “Ethan?”

  It was her. Or someone very good at guessing. He was going with the former. He couldn’t ignore the sliver of disappointment inside. So the gorgeous brunette was off-limits. Damn. That didn’t mean he had to stop being friendly. He extended his hand. “At your service.”

  She accepted the handshake, her palm warm and smooth against his. She laughed—a lighthearted crystalline sound that made his blood roar. “At my service. Really? There’s a lot of potential in a statement like that.”

  And, despite telling his attraction to back down, he wouldn’t mind finding out what she had in mind. Not a good idea, though. “And it’s completely open to interpretation.” He cringed. “That was more seductive and far less creepy in my head.”

  “I guess if your intentions were good... I’ll let it slide just this once.”

  He forced back his creeping arousal, and dragged his gaze to her eyes. Nope, those weren’t any less enticing. He wasn’t sure roommates made good fuck buddies, and he needed someone in that spare bedroom soon, in order to make rent. No way he was asking his brother for help. It wasn’t that he was broke—he made good money—but the more he put toward paying off his student loans and building a fund for the business he wanted to start, the sooner he’d be working for himself.

  He shook away the rambling thoughts, and nodded at the phone still sitting in front of her. “I like your ringtone. Are you a fan of the games, or the music?”

  She shifted her body so she was half-turned toward him, rested an elbow on the laminate bar top, and leaned in. The posture brought her closer, forced her breasts together, and gave him a fantastic view of how well her V-neck top complemented her narrow waist and full chest. “If I say I’m a fan of the games, do you ask next if I know who Shigeru Miyamoto is?”

  Ethan blinked a few times, trying to make sense of the words. “Who?”

  Jaycie ducked her head and tucked her hair behind one ear. “The creator of Mario Brothers, and… you know what, never mind.” She laughed. “It’s not important. I love the games, the music is just nostalgia.”

  She might just be more fun to talk to than to fuck, which made it a good thing she was thinking of renting a room from him. It would remind him his track record for long-term relationships was pretty shitty, when sex was involved.

  Almost a year ago, Ethan’s fiancée had decided her spinning coach was a better life choice, and walked out on Ethan, leaving only a note behind. He hadn’t heard from her since. Having the entire apartment to himself was nice, but in the last couple of months, he realized he didn’t like choosing between meeting his financial goals and occasionally indulging in takeout.

  “Why are you looking for a roommate?” he asked. He and Jaycie had discussed the basics over email. Apartment size, cost—things like that. But now was his chance to get details.

  “I need a place to stay, and sharing rent helps save money.”

  “I kind of figured that bit. What do you do for a living? Work here?”

  “Ooh, twenty questio
ns.” While she talked, she moved behind the counter, grabbed a few glasses, and filled one with ice, tea, and lemonade. “I don’t work here. I’m in journalism. What are you drinking?”

  “Coke. No ice.” Wait, what was she doing? She was awfully familiar with the place, and making a lot of assumptions, for someone who wasn’t an employee.

  Seconds later, she set the drink in front of him. She licked her bottom lip. It was a nervous flick of the tongue, and it drove his blood straight to his cock. He shoved the reaction to the back of his mind. “Who lets you just walk around in their diner like this?”

  She nodded at the kitchen behind her. “My best friend Gwen. This is her place. But I’m boring. What do you do for a living? Why are you looking for a roommate?”

  He swallowed back the completely honest response to her second question. Not that he intended to lie, but there was no reason to spill his entire past now, or possibly ever. “I work in game development. I’ve got an extra room, because the last person I rented to bailed on me without as much as a goodbye kiss. Woke up one morning, and half my stuff was gone. Poof. So I’m looking for someone to split the bills with.”

  His breath caught when her smile grew. The expression smooshed the smattering of freckles on her pale face, and made her eyes light up. “I get that. Writing freelance is such a glamorous life that I really can’t foot the rent on my own, if I want heat in the winter and a working refrigerator. But game development, that’s so cool. Anything I’ve heard of? Are you at one of the bigger companies in town? Rinslet, maybe? Or are you indie?”

  A snort of a laugh slipped out at the name. That was who was first on her list? “Rinslet is a group of hacks, who got lucky.”

  “Twice. Digital Media then.”

  Surprise tickled him. “What gave me away?”

  “Only someone working for the company who got burned by Rinslet—more than once—would discredit what a big impact they’ve had on the industry. And hacks or not, they’ve still got a larger positive revenue stream than DM.”

  She almost knew more about his industry than he did. Was she a fan girl, or something more professional? “What kind of writing do you do?” he asked.

  Her pleasant expression froze, and her brow furrowed. “Did you work on their most recent game? The FPS that’s out next week?”

  Of course she’d be familiar with their games, if she could spout off revenue information. Gamer, then. No one else had that kind of random knowledge base about random corporations. “No. I head the story implementation group for their role-playing games.”

  Her smile leaked back in. “Then you worked on Enemies of Fortuna?”

  The awe in her question inflated his pride. It didn’t hurt that the game had been his crowning achievement so far. He’d loved it, buyers had gobbled it up, and reviewers had praised it. Since it was a shame to peak so young in his career—twenty-seven was only a starting point—he’d have to make the next one better. And the plans he had for when he got started on his own blew Fortuna out of the water. “Yup.”

  “I loved that game.” She leaned in, forearms on the table. “Amazing dynamics, interaction, and storyline.”

  His grin grew. “Thanks. We worked hard on that.”

  Her jaw worked up and down, and her joy died.

  Great. Now what had he said? How was that a conversation killer? Before he could ask, her familiar ring tone filled their corner of the room.

  She gave him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I have to take this.”

  He watched the sway of her hips with each step, as she walked toward the front door. She might be off limits for a hookup, but there was no reason he couldn’t enjoy the view.

  “This is J-Dub.” Her words hit his ears and dropped into his stomach like lead, before she vanished behind the swinging door.

  “Amazing dynamics, interaction, and storyline.” Her voice echoed in his thoughts, tied to that name. It couldn’t be, though. Total coincidence that she had the same nickname and talked about his game the exact same way as one of Console Power Magazine’s most prolific and well-written game reviewers. J-Dub was a common nickname, right? Besides, J-Dub the reviewer was male. He’d assumed.

  The questions rolled around in Ethan’s head. It was too much of a coincidence. At the same time, there was no way Jaycie and the reviewer were the same person.

  A few minutes later, she was back on her seat next to him, phone in her pocket and friendly smile back in place. “I’m sorry again, sometimes work calls. Being freelance is great, but the hours are a bit unpredictable.”

  Freelance. Journalist. It couldn’t be. The logic circuits in his brain told him he was being dim, but he refused to listen. At least not without confirmation. “You really liked Enemies of Fortuna? Thought the hero’s story followed an enticing and emotional arc, without weighing down or interfering with the game play?” He couldn’t help quoting the review at her. It had been one of his favorites.

  She tightened her jaw.

  “Is there a reason you share a nickname with the person who gave that write-up?” he asked.

  She turned her gaze to her drink, and downed half of it in a single swallow. Even when she was done, she wouldn’t look at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I know a lot of people liked it, but it wasn’t like I memorized anything.”

  She was definitely lying. But why?

  Chapter Two

  Over the years Jaycie had worked with guys like Ethan—confident, arrogant game developers—she’d learned it was smart to hide most of what she was thinking. Showing that kind of weakness only spurred them on.

  But she’d never met a guy who knew when to back off, and still came off as confident. That, smattered with a sprinkling of not-taking-himself-too-seriously, screamed sexy as much as his dark hair, and the brown eyes she could sink into.

  Then she discovered where he worked. Even worse, now he knew who she was, and he was staring at her, very obviously not believing her denial about being J-Dub.

  She hopped from her stool, avoiding his eyes and the questions buried within them. “Look, it was great meeting you, and drinks or whatever you want are on me—well, Gwen, really—but this arrangement isn’t going to work for us. I’m sorry I wasted your time.”

  “Wait.” He grabbed her wrist.

  A jolt of heat and desire surged through her at the skin-on-skin contact, and she sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth. That felt better than she wanted it to. No reason to mistake a physical response for something more.

  He let go. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  Had he really backed down twice in since he’d walked in? It was true she’d only known him for a few minutes, but gamer guys didn’t do things like admit they made mistakes. “It’s okay.” Her imagination was already tripping several steps ahead, with images of that firm grip pinning her arms about her head while he pressed her against the wall with his solid frame. Fantasy was fine, if that’s all it was. Right?

  “What did I say wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing.” Wow, Gwen was right. She was a horrible liar. “I just don’t think we’re compatible.”

  “You’re him, then.” There was no question in Ethan’s voice.

  She knew the assumption about her gender would be there. That was why she used the pen name, but for some reason it still stung to hear him refer to her pseudonym as male. “No, I’m not him.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched, and he raked his gaze over her in that way that heated her blood and made her wonder if she was the main course. “No, you’re definitely not. You are her, though. You know, if you moved in, it was going to come out eventually.”

  It wasn’t that she had a secret identity. Well, kind of. When she published her first few reviews, her editor told her people would take her more seriously, if they didn’t realize she was female. She’d just wanted to work in the industry, so agreeing to take on the pseudonym was an easy decision. Seeing how some guys, including her ex-boyfriend, Nick, and his frie
nds, treated other women in her field, having no idea she was one of them, reinforced her decision to keep her identity secret.

  Besides, she knew what was going in the next issue of Console Power, and Ethan wouldn’t be so friendly once he read it.

  She needed to focus on the conversation. Not let him see the effect he had on her. “It’s true. Probably sooner, rather than later. But it wouldn’t have mattered, if you were in some line of work other than the one I review for a living.”

  “So you are J-Dub.”

  Hadn’t they already covered that? She leaned into the counter without sitting again. ”You can’t tell anyone. As in, not a single soul.” Especially not any of his colleagues. Nick’s friends—one in particular—terrified her. Kent’s actions had shown her some internet trolls were willing to make the shit-talking real.

  Ethan’s brows scrunched together, and he gave her a puzzled look. “People know who you are.”

  “No. Gwen knows who I am. The people who sign my paychecks know who I am.” Nick was happy to assume she wrote recipes or something. “To everyone else, J-Dub is some guy who talks about video games.”

  “So girls can’t talk about video games?”

  She rolled her eyes at the feigned naiveté, but she couldn’t ignore the happy spark inside that her gender and job didn’t seem to matter to him. “You tell me.”

  His lips drew into a thin line, and he seemed to consider his words before replying. “So if I promise to keep your top secret identity a top secret, can we continue talking like normal people?”

  She should end the conversation—put a stop to the roommate negotiation—before this went further. It didn’t matter what he said today, his opinion would change. Part of the reason he liked her was because she’d said glowing things about his game. Few people had bigger egos than game developers. Except, logic and experience aside, she enjoyed his company was and reluctant to cut things short. “On one condition.”