The Wager

by Rene Folsom

  Synopsis

  You’d think the masks would come off once the ball drops at the New Year’s masquerade but, tossing caution to the wind, Liam and Maci decide to have a bit of fun by continuing to keep their faces hidden from each other during a night full of games and passion.

  Get to know these two game-playing lovers before they even know each other in The Wager, a prequel to the new novel in the Playing Games series, Game Changer.

  Note: This contemporary romance novella is an optional read in the Playing Games series and contains adult situations meant for ages 18+.

  Find out more on Rene’s website at

  http://renefolsom.com/playing-games

  If you’ve already read The Wager in the Winter Kiss Holiday Romance Collection, then continue with Liam and Maci’s story in Game Changer.

  Copyright © 2014 Rene Folsom

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission from the authors, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Editing Services Provided by:

  Cynthia Shepp - www.CynthiaShepp.com

  Cover Created by Phycel Designs

  www.Phycel.com

  A special thanks to ML—

  thanks for keeping me in line and making sure my gaming references are spot on.

  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Thanks for Reading

  Books by Rene

  Chapter One

  Liam: Obligations

  Staring out at the thick blanket of snow, I continued to wonder why I was even here. My friend, Thad, insisted I tag along with him and his family this Christmas. Even though they’d always taken me in when my parents neglected to, I still felt like I was on the outside looking in—an intruder—especially on the holidays.

  Thad wouldn’t give up the fight, demanding I come with him to their vacation home in North Carolina. He blathered on about not having anyone to hang with when the family started their annual holiday traditions he seemed to loathe. Sometimes the man didn’t realize how good he had it. I didn’t even know a family had traditions, or bothered to spend time together, until I started hanging around his clan.

  Even though we were both grown men, spending time with family was always top priority in his household, even now. I could count on one hand the amount of times my own family sat around a dinner table together. Yet now, even as adults, his parents and their children all gathered around the table together at least once a week. Although I joined them for their Sunday dinners, I still felt a bit awkward crashing their trip this Christmas.

  I should’ve been home playing some lonely kid in an MMORPG so he would at least have a buddy when being ignored by his family like I was. Thad thought the idea was ridiculous though, and instead, dragged me along for the ride.

  I continued to watch the snow fall as I waited, a shiver running down my spine as little puffs of cotton covered the once-green lawn outside. Tonight was the big holiday party and, of course, since Thad was from the area, he insisted on setting me up with some chick he used to go to school with. Needless to say, I wasn’t stoked, but at least I had a chance of connecting with someone who wasn’t after my money or status. That was always a major issue back home.

  Being the lead game developer at nZone Studios, I had a knack for attracting women who either wanted a free ride in life or to get their foot in the door as a tester—neither of which were a good fit. For once, I wanted to meet a chick who just wanted to be with me for… well… me.

  The sound of jingle bells coming from the door to the cabin told me Thad was back, yet I had no desire to turn and look at who he had on his arm. I knew my crankiness would just ruin the night of others, so I took a deep breath and plastered a forced smile across my face before swiveling to see who walked in.

  There Thad stood, his head hung and hands in his pockets, defeat clear in his stance, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the poor schmuck.

  “It’s not funny,” he said, his voice harsh, yet needy, like he wanted me to ask what was wrong before he spilled the beans.

  “What happened? Did our girlfriends pop on the way here?” I joked. Once, I caught Thad teaching himself how to dance with a blow-up doll—that was his story anyway. I wouldn’t have been a good friend if I dared to let him live it down. His reaction as soon as I walked into the room was even more epic than the act.

  “Har, har. Very funny, asshat,” he scoffed. “But we did get turned down.”

  “Wait, you didn’t ask them ahead of time?” Thad told me there was a set of twins he went to high school with who wanted something to do this Christmas Eve. Little did I know the dipshit never even bothered to ask them.

  “I talked to them, I promise. They just said something else came up.” I could tell the brushoff was hurting his ego, so I tried to stifle the digs that came bubbling up in my mind.

  “Eh, we’re better off. Let’s just get to the party. We’ll be fine without dates,” I said, throwing my arm around him and ushering him out of the door.

  “Really sucks I gotta show up with a loser like you on my arm,” Thad said, pouting and fishing for me to boost his ego. He obviously didn’t know me as well as I thought.

  “At least it’ll shock your family. You usually show up to these things stag. They’ll be elated you finally came out of the closet,” I joked. Only after I said it did I realize it was also a below-the-belt blow toward myself.

  “Yeah, wanna rephrase that, moron?” he chided, elbowing me in the stomach so I’d get off him. Well, at least my little blunder made him laugh.

  Forgoing the holiday music, Thad blasted some old-school Metallica while we drove to the party across town, the bass rumbling through my body making me feel a bit more alive. It was hard for me to get into the Christmas spirit, especially since my family lacked the heart for such holiday cheer my entire childhood.

  “I plan to get plastered tonight,” I informed him just as our headlights reflected off other cars in the clubhouse parking lot.

  “Fuck, no. If you face-plant in the snow, your drool will freeze and I’ll lose my gaming buddy. I have a raid set up for tonight.”

  “But I didn’t bring my favorite controller,” I said, the complaint seeping through my teeth before I could stop it. I wanted an excuse to get faced tonight, and I knew my friend would put the kibosh on that if gaming were at stake. Honestly, any other day of the year, and I would’ve been the same way—putting the game before all else. But, tonight, I just wanted to be left alone. Spending time raiding with others didn’t sound like a great way to spend the evening.

  I could practically feel him rolling his eyes as he responded. “Then use the keyboard, you whiner.”

  “But, I like using my controller.” I paused, trying to think of more to complain about. Now it was becoming more like a game than actual excuses. Annoying Thad was one of my favorite ones to play. “My fingers weren’t built to run over the keyboard like that. Carpel tunnel galore,” I said, wiggling my fingers in his face.

  “You’ll survive,” he said with a l
oud, snorting laugh.

  Before the retort I had saved up could bellow from my mouth, the man hit me in the chest with a large, fuzzy Santa hat.

  “Hell no,” I said, refusing to wear the thing.

  “It’ll make you look a bit friendlier, Grinch,” he explained while donning his own fashion abomination. With a smile, he added, “Pretend you have a little Christmas spirit.”

  Rolling my eyes, I climbed from the car and into the frosty night. Being from Florida, I was definitely not used to the cold. If anything, the stupid hat would keep my ears warm.

  Chapter Two

  Maci: Solidarity

  The beeping of the microwave seemed loud as it echoed throughout my empty condo—steam from the TV dinner bellowing out when I opened the door. Careful not to burn myself, I dumped the contents onto a plate and grabbed a fork. I thought it was pretty classy of me to forego eating straight from the flimsy, plastic container. On a rather unclassy note, I’d already hammered down two Solo cups of wine and didn’t plan to stop there.

  I didn’t even wait for it to cool as I plopped on the couch and started shoving the cardboard-like food in my mouth. My thumb began to cramp as I flipped through the channels, each station cheerfully broadcasting Christmas movies. I knew I’d reached an all-time level of pathetic when I yelled, “Just jump already!” to George Baily in It’s a Wonderful Life.

  It’d been two weeks without my grams here… two weeks of pure, torturous hell. Even though caring for her was a twenty-four-seven obligation due to the fact she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s a few years back, it was one that I took on with pleasure. Having her here with me brightened even my darkest days.

  But her son thought she belonged in a home instead of with me. Since I was only a grandchild by marriage, I had zero control over the outcome. It wasn’t like he even had to care for her, physically or financially. So, why he bothered to remove her from my home was beyond my comprehension.

  I let the television drone on while I sat, fork in hand, staring at the chair she loved to sit in, the blanket she made still draped over the arm.

  Too bad visiting hours were over, or I’d be with her right now, singing Christmas carols over and over again and laughing at all the silly movies on repeat. The fun would just have to wait until tomorrow, I guessed. She and I would have no problems bothering the rest of the residents with our shenanigans.

  Just as I was thinking of all the ways I could seek revenge on her son, my phone buzzed in the pocket of my hoodie. The drive to ignore it was nearly overwhelming, but when I saw Sky’s smiling face on the screen, I knew I had to pick up if I didn’t want her pixie ass standing on my doorstep.

  Feeling the wine start to take effect in my veins, willing the Solo cup to fill itself back up, I inhaled a deep breath and swiped my finger across the screen. “This better be good. I’m in the middle of a boss fight.”

  “No you’re not. You’re probably sitting in front of the tube with wine and a frozen dinner,” she said, pinning me for the pathetic dud that I was.

  “It’s what losers do on Christmas,” I joked. Only I knew how true it was.

  “Fuck that. I know you’re sad over your grams not being there, but you know damn well she wouldn’t put up with this whiny shit. She’d probably clock you over the head for acting this way.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Just because you’re right doesn’t mean it’ll change anything. Tonight just sucks, and I’m allowed to wallow in my own pity party over here.”

  “I know. I’m letting it slide for now. But you’re mine for New Years,” she demanded.

  “Nope. I think my ass will still be sitting on this couch on New Year’s Eve,” I informed her. The last thing I wanted to do was go out and make a fool of myself.

  “Maci, I need you. An nZone executive is having a company masquerade, and all my coworkers are dumbasses. It’ll be more interesting if I had you on my arm.” She paused, probably waiting for me to answer. But my answer was no different than before, so I kept quiet. “C’mon. Please? I promise not to make you have a good time. You can drink, and I’ll even drive your drunk ass home.”

  “Why would you even want me around if I’m such a Debbie downer?” I questioned, astonished my friend was able to peg me so well.

  “Because, you’re hot. You’re bound to attract the attention of some of these geeks. Since I’m the only chick at work, I usually get the brunt of their sexist jokes. It’d be kinda nice to have your smart mouth around to put them in their place,” she said with a laugh. Her voice rang like a bell through the phone, and even had me smiling for a moment.

  With a sigh, I contemplated what the harm would be in going. Other than being forced to be sociable, I couldn’t think of anything really bad about the idea. Giving gamer geeks some hell sounded like fun.

  “Okay, fine. I’m in. But there better be some damn good liquor involved.” I was only half joking, and she knew it.

  “Deal. Now, stop wallowing in despair and try to enjoy your day with your grams tomorrow,” she demanded. “You know fat ass won’t visit her. So, she’ll need you.”

  “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Sky.”

  “Anytime, Maci. Now, refill that Solo cup and go back to Miracle on 34th Street or whatever the hell you’re criticizing,” she chimed, hanging up before I could think of a smart-ass response.

  I sighed as I tossed my phone down on the couch next to me, the heft of it bouncing on the soft cushion before falling into a crack.

  Staring at the Christmas tree Grams helped me decorate right after Thanksgiving, I allowed the lights to blur together while I thought of what Sky had said. She was right. My grams would never put up with my sulking behavior, even in her not-so-lucid state. Yet, I had no clue what else to do with my time. Getting wasted and passing out seemed like the best way to go. And the fact I knew I wasn’t the only shmuck in the world feeling this way gave me no comfort at all.

  The melancholy feeling that enveloped me brought back the memory of where I left off in my latest manuscript. My characters were kicking ass and taking names aboard their ship, but their love life was slipping through the cracks—kinda like my poor phone right about now.

  Being a Sci-Fi author had its perks, but when my mood soured, it seemed to wreak havoc on my poor characters’ lives.

  As I looked down into the near-empty Solo cup, my characters began to argue. I knew I had to get the scene down before all was lost. The empty cup gave me an idea.

  Well, two ideas.

  Number one, I would refill my damn cup, because obviously, it wasn’t spontaneously going to fill itself up.

  Number two, I needed to write. The old saying was true—Write drunk, edit sober. Well, maybe true was a bit of an overstatement, but getting words down while drinking was still productive, even if there was a mess to clean up the next day. If anything, I could turn my mood around a bit if I allowed these characters full control of my brain for a few hours.

  Seeing how it was only seven thirty at night, I still had plenty of time to kill and knew my characters would gladly eat up a few hours of my evening. It wasn’t long before I had a full Solo cup on my desk and the light of my laptop screen illuminating my face.

  Chapter Three

  Liam: Being Human

  Placing my book flat on my chest, I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom and wondered how things would go if I just stayed in here all night. Could I ditch my own party? Thad would give me shit, for sure. He was still on my ass about being sulky at his family’s Christmas gathering, claiming I didn’t try to have fun, whatever that entailed.

  Sighing, I concluded that I just had to suck it up and entertain. Plus, it was only supposed to be my team from work—those who have seen me at my best and my worst. I guessed I could man up for the second night in this holiday season and attempt to be somewhat human.

  Gawd, being normal was for the birds. What I wouldn’t have given just to have a nice chick who got me—understood that staying home and chilling with a controller or book in m
y hand was the way to be.

  With that thought, I picked up the paperback and stared at the Sci-Fi artwork that adorned the cover. The fascinating world of space travel and futuristic beings always had me captivated. “M.L. Thomas gets it,” I whispered while staring at the author’s name. I often wondered how my life would have turned out if my time were set in the future.

  Would my family be the losers they are today? Or would they be more nurturing and supportive when I needed them the most?

  Regardless of all the therapy and time that had lapsed after walking out of my parents’ home on my eighteenth birthday, the hurt that they didn’t care enough to stop me still ate at me daily. I was raw from the inside out—all over something that should’ve been rather inconsequential.

  I needed something to happen in my life that would make me feel even remotely worthy of the gift I was given being a part of Thad’s family like I was. I knew I was being hypocritical. I spent my entire adolescence hoping for a loving family, and when they took me in with open arms, the hurt and betrayal from my own folks overtook that hope and consumed it like a poisonous vine weaving through my soul.

  Thad’s family and my pseudo siblings at work were my only saving grace in this world. They usually kept my mind off the fact that I was essentially alone, keeping me busy with their antics and games.

  With a loud, audible sigh, I decided to stop being so dramatic. I needed to get up off my ass and start dressing for the party. How I allowed Thad to talk me into throwing a New Year’s masquerade was beyond me. Wasn’t that a chick thing to do anyway? The man seemed to be obsessed with doing anything to set me up with someone, even though he always had a hard time finding a girl of his own. Maybe he thought it’d cheer me up, which was rather cute in a geeky, twenty-five-year-old virgin sorta way.