The #5Star Affair (Love Hashtagged Book 1)

by Lindt, Allyson

  Her knuckles ached at how tightly she clenched her fist.

  “But I shouldn’t have made it personal.”

  “So, you’re sorry but it’ll probably happen again?” There was a strain to her words.

  “Odds are good I’m not done saying stupid things, yes.” He gave her a half-smile.

  Nothing was resolved then. Except—the realization clicked into place—that wasn’t quite what she wanted anyway. Her mouth seemed to have figured it out before her brain, she just hadn’t put all the pieces together yet. “I guess I don’t want you to.”

  The thoughts spilled over each other until the coalesced into something recognizable. “As long as I’m allowed to say stupid stuff, too.” It was such a simple statement, but she felt like she’d exposed herself. Why had she trusted him with this kind of information? “I don’t always have to be right. As long as you don’t say I’m wrong for thinking for myself.”

  “I’m not, and I shouldn’t have.” He closed the remaining distance between them. “Don’t leave.”

  “All right.” She tried to force a compliant tone into her voice, but it didn’t work.

  “Are we okay?”

  Her nod came easier than she expected.

  “I do have to work. But, do you have plans tonight?”

  She shook her head, not sure if she could find an appropriate response. All the words had been right, but they weren’t an instant cure.

  He gave her one last glance, his brows furrowed, and turned away. “Talk to you soon.”

  She sank back into her chair, wrapped her arms around herself, and replayed the conversation in her head. Why was she still bothered? Why did she still feel like if she didn’t hold herself tight enough, all of her would be on display?

  Because she was terrified. The single word hit her hard. Of herself. Of the fact that she’d just opened up to Ethan with so little resistance, and put parts of herself on display she never let anyone see, including her own conscious mind.

  ****

  “Hey, bro. Lunch?”

  Ethan looked up from his desk at his co-worker. Rich was lead on the first-person shooter that reviewers, including Jaycie, were bashing on. When the one and two stars hit outlets yesterday, Rich raged, but now he looked okay.

  “Sure.” Ethan locked his machine, and joined his friend. They headed toward the elevators. “Where?”

  “Somewhere I can get wasted.” Rich’s laugh sounded forced. “Seriously, though. They should build that into the benefits. Getting ragged on by ignorant bitches should come with a day of drinking and mourning.”

  The words burrowed under Ethan’s skin. “Watch it,” he warned. Why was he getting defensive? This was the same gripe any developer had after they were—after their game was—trashed by the media. “I thought getting wasted was the plan last night.”

  “It was.” The elevator door pinged open, and Rich and Ethan stepped into the car. A couple of people were already in it. “But some fucking twat on Tumblr had a whole new rant up today. Stupid cunt shouldn’t have even been playing her boyfriend’s game. Who the fuck does she think she is, calling my background chatter sexist and offensive?”

  One of the women behind them ducked her head, shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and adjusted her purse. Ethan snarled. “One, did you ever notice how distinctly real-life you translates into your characters? She’s right. Two, I’ve told you before. I’ll deck you if you don’t erase that word from your vocabulary.” His hand twitched by his side, half-clenching. In the past, he’d always expected Rich would eventually figure out the language and assumptions were cool and knock them off. Now Ethan was fighting the desire to make good on the threat.

  The conversation with Jaycie that morning must have had more of an impact on him than he realized.

  Rich looked at him like he’d sprouted a second head. “What’s your problem?”

  “She’s as entitled to her opinion as anyone.”

  They reached the bottom floor, and the women they’d shared the ride with brushed past, gazes on the floor and jaws clenched.

  “When did you grow a vagina?” Rich asked. “Besides, you know I’m just fucking around. Pissed off is all.”

  “Pissed off isn’t an excuse for being a complete jackass.” Ethan might have regretted the words, but Rich’s attitude was rubbing him every which way of wrong.

  “The fuck?” Disgust and irritation filled Rich’s question. “Seriously? Must be nice to be the guy with the golden asshole that reviewers lick for a chance to play his game.”

  Ethan balled his hands into fists, and stepped closer. Rich was broader in the shoulder, but Ethan had several inches on him, and was happy to use the height advantage for intimidation. “If you can’t take constr—”

  “Fuck you.” Rich pushed him aside, and stepped around him. “I don’t need this.”

  ****

  Ethan dragged himself through the front door. He’d be happy to be home, if joy didn’t take so much energy. He swore every time he turned around at work, he’d gotten into it with someone else. Several times over what Jaycie had written. When had he started working with an office full of Neanderthals? He didn’t care that they were pissed off about the reviews; it was the things they said in retaliation that infuriated him.

  He clicked the deadbolt into place, and furrowed his brow at a strange noise drifting from Jaycie’s bedroom. It sounded like footsteps padding out a strange rhythm.

  He kicked off his shoes, and tossed his keys onto the stand by the door. He stopped in her open doorway, and his eyes grew wide. He wasn’t sure if the sight exhausted him more, or sent a new rush of energy through him. The latter sounded more like it.

  Jaycie wore wireless ear buds, and was dancing in the center of the room. Her long hair flipped with her, as she tossed her head. A tinny sound flitted from the device in her ears. Her body swung this way and that, her over-sized T-shirt flying with the movement and frequently sliding up to reveal bare legs and cut-offs. She pulled her arms over her head, and then dropped them to her sides, always twisting and moving to the beat.

  Ethan leaned against the door frame, a smile playing on his lips as he watched her lithe frame swing to the music. It was wrong to stare, but he couldn’t pull his gaze away.

  She twirled, and opened her eyes. Her entire body shifted to a shade of pink, and the dancing stopped. She plucked the buds from her ears, and let the connector between them drape around her neck. “Hey.” Her greeting was loud in the sudden stillness. “I didn’t know you were home.”

  “I just got here. I’m glad you’re doing better.”

  Her lips twitched into a smile. “I told you this morning I was fine.”

  “You didn’t mean it.”

  “I’ve had time to think.” She ducked her head and traced lines in the carpet with her bare toes. “I decided I’d rather be myself around you than whatever the alternative is.”

  He liked the sound of that. He didn’t mind the look of it either. He raked his gaze over her, trying not to stare and failing. “So that has you dancing around the room?”

  “You’d like that. Wouldn’t you?”

  “It certainly wouldn’t hurt my feelings.” This was so much better than fighting over game reviews.

  “It’s part of the reason.” Her grin spread. “My editor at Console Power says they want me to review God of the Stars. The distributor is only sending out fifty total review copies.”

  “Wow.” He didn’t have to ask what that meant. It was one of the most anticipated games. Everyone was hyping it, even though no one had seen it yet. “Congratulations. That’s amazing. Feel free to keep celebrating. I don’t mind.” Understatement of the evening.

  “Only if you’re joining me.” She crossed the floor and grabbed his hand. Her skin was soft and warm against his palm, as she pulled him into the room.

  Fuck that. He kept the thoughts to himself, digging frantically for a politer way to tell her no. “Fuck that.” That would have to do.
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  “I’m not dancing alone.” She bent at the waist, and Ethan felt more of his exhaustion rush away and be replaced with a throb below his waist, as his gaze followed the curve of her ass.

  She clicked a couple of things on her computer, and music flooded the room. She let out a small, “Eep,” and quickly turned the volume down to something that didn’t rattle the windows. Twirling back to him, she grabbed his hand again. Her hips twisted to the beat. “Come on.”

  He shook his head, unable to take his eyes off her. He wasn’t sure what was more fascinating—the excitement in her green eyes, or the way the lightweight cotton shifted across her breasts every time she moved. “I don’t dance,” he said.

  Her laugh mingled with the sweet but hard female voice screaming from her speakers. Damn, that was a nice sound. She should do it more often.

  “It’s easy,” she said. “You just let yourself go. Besides, no one’s watching.”

  “You are.”

  “Then that makes us even.” She tossed her head, never letting go of his hand as the beat increased. “Come on.” She grabbed his other hand as well, and pulled both back and forth in time to the beat.

  His foot tapped against his will, and he found himself following her lead. Restraint kept him from moving with the carefree abandon she did, but he couldn’t help swaying.

  She giggled, spinning around him, never letting go of him completely. Her front slid against his back, hands moving up his arms. Then she was in front of him again, grinding against him.

  Did she have any idea how completely hot she looked? Or that she was giving him a raging hard on? There was no way she didn’t feel that. She spun and draped her arms around his neck. Her tits brushed his chest.

  “You need to let yourself go,” she whispered in his ear. “It’s more fun that way.” Her laughter faded as her gaze locked on his. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, rested her hand on his chest, and leaned in.

  He swallowed, intensely aware of every inch of her pressed against him. Just a twist, and he could pin her to the wall. His pulse tripped faster than the beat, and his cock jerked against his jeans, begging to find out how far he could take this. Could he stop at just a kiss? The sharp cherry of her lip gloss hovered inches from his mouth, and he pushed back the desire to run his tongue over her lips, and see if she tasted as distinctly as she smelled.

  He rested his hands at the small of her back, and drew her into him completely. She searched his eyes, dragged in a deep breath, and broke out of his grip. “That’s not what I meant to do.”

  Fuck. He suppressed a sigh. Things weren’t going down this way. “Don’t do that.”

  “I’m not doing anything.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and dropped into the chair by her desk.

  “We were having fun, weren’t we? Or I am wrong?”

  Pink smeared her cheeks. “Yes. I mean, I assume…” She glanced in his direction, gaze not lifting above his crotch.

  At least he wasn’t the only one talking about something besides the dancing. “Then don’t downplay it like it was nothing.”

  “I’m not. It was definitely something. But I don’t know if I want it to be what you’re expecting.”

  His cock strained against his zipper. “I’m hoping for a few things, but the only expectation I have is that you be honest with me.”

  “What if the best I can give you is ‘I don’t know’?”

  “Then you don’t know. At least it’s something.”

  “I guess.” She finally looked up. “But next time you actually dance with me.”

  They hadn’t resolved much of anything, but she also hadn’t taken any options off the table. He let a small laugh slip out. “Not likely.”

  She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “We’ll see.”

  If he’d been hard before, it was nothing compared to the desire and pain that stiffened his cock now. “You’re going to kill me. You know that?”

  “I hope not. Tell me you’ve got all the answers.”

  “I don’t. Not even close.” He hated admitting he didn’t know something, but every time he tried to wrap his head around his relationship with Jaycie, he stumbled on something new. It was part of what made her so attractive—she was uniquely her—but it also meant relying on standby rhetoric wasn’t working for him.

  “So we’ll make it up as we go along,” she said.

  Not what he wanted to hear. Guessing, lack of planning, taking jabs in the dark… None of those were solid approaches to any problem. Knowing that still didn’t give him an answer, though.

  Chapter Eight

  As Jaycie paced the length of her room, random snippets of sentences flitted through her thoughts. None of them really encompassed what she was trying to say about God of the Stars. It was fun. Nothing special—certainly not worth the hype surrounding it—but better than a lot of its competition. It had let her play stealthily, and not a lot of games offered any option besides going in, guns blazing. But there was something negative about it, and she couldn’t quite place her finger on it.

  Her deadline was tomorrow morning, and she really needed this write-up. It could be one of those career-making reviews, if she did it right. Besides, she was already feeling the financial strain of refusing to take on more Digital Media games.

  The familiar sound of digital gunfire tore through the air. She should go see what Ethan was up to. Maybe whatever he was playing would give her enough contrast to find the words she needed. Not that she was looking for excuses to spend time with him. When things went well between them, it was easier than she thought possible. When they didn’t, she tended to walk away feeling gutted. But she looked forward to either option, even if she wasn’t sure why. As much as tiny bits of her mind told her not to get involved with a roommate, with another gamer, with him, she couldn’t ignore her attraction to him.

  She just had to figure out how to either deal with it or get over him.

  He didn’t as much as glance in her direction when she wandered into the living room. His gaze was fixed on the TV, fingers flying over the controller pad as he navigated the cosmic war zones of God of the Stars. So much for contrast. She should stop him, and take the disc back. Her non-disclosure agreement on this game had been stricter than most, and he was technically the competition.

  The concern she should feel wasn’t there, though. She’d ask him not to tell anyone until the game was out, and he’d respect her request. Logic argued that was a stupid assumption to make. She’d trusted Nick—not with that kind of information, but with other things—and he’d glossed over everything she said, as if she were a child that needed to be placated.

  Except, for all the unanswered questions Ethan left her with, she never doubted his sincerity.

  All of her concerns faded, as the minutes ticked by and she watched Ethan play. She knew the level he was on. She’d struggled with it, and it had taken her several retries to figure out how to do the entire thing while being stealthy.

  She wasn’t surprised he hopped into the middle of the combat zone, pistols drawn, instead. Walked right in, and started picking off targets. Sure, he ducked when he needed to. Dove for cover. But there was no sneaking. No tiptoeing up behind a guard and garroting them. She could tell from the inventory tracker on the right side of the screen he didn’t have any weapons besides guns and a spiked club.

  Typical gamer guy. Rushing in. Except that wasn’t true. Even though his approach was more aggressive than hers, he still seemed to have a plan beyond ‘shoot it, if it moves.’ Not only did he not get slaughtered out of the gate, the aggression worked for him, and he made it almost to the end before getting swarmed and owned.

  She hated that she was going to have to interrupt, and take the game back.

  He paused the game, and the screen dimmed to almost black. He met her gaze in the reflection of the TV. He’d known she was back here? He seemed so absorbed in what he was doing.

  “I hope this is okay.” It wasn’t a question.
“I found it in the console, and couldn’t help myself.”

  “Technically…” She trailed off. Would it really be a big deal to let him finish? Normally she’d be worried about someone else’s perspective tainting hers in a review. But his approach was so different, maybe it would trigger what she was trying to figure out.

  He nodded at the empty spot next to him on the couch. “Grab the other controller.”

  “You know how I feel about multi-player.”

  “I know you’ve made exceptions for me before. Besides, not versus. Co-op. Come on.” He patted the cushion. “Fifteen minutes. It’ll be fun.”

  “You really wouldn’t like playing with me.” She bit back a grimace, as the words clicked in her head and she realized how bad that sounded.

  “I think I’d enjoy it quite a bit.” He shifted enough to look at her directly, and the intensity in his gaze made her pulse skip. “You’d probably like it too. But I can seduce you later. Grab the other controller.”

  Heat flooded her cheeks, and rather than dwell on his implication, she did as he said. She dropped onto the couch, device in hand, and pulled up her account on the split screen. Seconds later, she joined Ethan on the load screen, for the level he’d just played. Which was perfect. She’d show him how to do this right.

  The castle fortress where the bad guys held their prisoner loaded, and Jaycie leaned forward, hands on her knees, scanning for the weapons she knew were there. Within seconds, they’d each grabbed the implements of their choice.

  He gave a short laugh. “You’re going to go all ninja?”

  “Better than getting picked off when I stroll through the front door.” She kept the teasing in her tone.

  “No one’s getting picked off.” He leaned back against the sofa, shifted his weight until his arm brushed hers, and progressed in game. “I’m going through the front door, though. You loop around the west hall, come up through receiving bay two, and meet me by the mannequin storage. Take out anyone who gets in your way.”