Good Game_A Gamer Romance

by Kat Alex Crystal

  Would there be a next time? Would he ever take her out to dinner?

  Whoa, nelly. Bourbon was going to her head. But she thumbed one more message and hit send. I guess we’re not. Sorry.

  She wasn’t sorry. But she didn’t need another pissed-off douche harassing her either.

  She took a sip and relaxed against Jack’s shoulder. She felt better than she had all week. Like this was a spot she belonged in. God, she should have known she’d fall head over heels for him. She should have seen this coming from inside her car outside Riola’s. Maybe she had. Although he wasn’t acting much like an asshole anymore. Maybe it was just a trick of the light when Max was standing close enough to compare.

  How different he had seemed that day at Riola’s, all business. Now there was a warmth, a sudden and unexpected vulnerability. He was almost… forlorn. As the group talked, he sat mostly silent.

  “You’re quiet,” she whispered eventually.

  “Just… thinking.”

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “Our contract.”

  Inwardly, she winced. That was exactly not what she’d wanted to hear. Maybe worrying about Frank or a tournament next week or something. Or no, he’d said he’d retired. And she’d just finally explained to Olivia what he did, poor girl. So he should be worrying about his business. Not that contract, not here with their bodies pressed so close. Did he think that was all this was?

  Did he think he was buying her affection with the money?

  Did she care? She wanted him badly enough at this point that his motives might not matter.

  No, no, that seemed unlikely. The money was a weird inconvenience at this point. Surely that had not been his original intent, but what if, as the sparks had started to fly, he’d changed his mind? She turned over in her mind how to broach the subject.

  “Since you’re not saying anything, I’m thinking I should let you out of it. Er, we should cancel it. The wedding doesn’t matter. I can handle it myself.”

  “You can cancel it, of course. It’s in the contract I wrote up. But I can’t take the whole fee for one barbecue.” He’d insisted repeatedly that the full fee would be hers whenever the contract was terminated, but she’d never felt quite right about that. Of course, she’d figured she’d make it through. She should have known better. It was always the clauses that you figured didn’t matter that would come back to haunt you.

  His eyes studied her face, half lidded. He seemed to be working up to saying something. Perhaps he would say, How about one barbecue and one night? Invite her back to his… wherever he slept, and do those things she’d been imagining this morning in her dreams. And she’d definitely agree. Instead, he said, “But you need the money.”

  She waved him off. The campsite was important to her. And to Will. But there were a good six more weeks left before the thaw, maybe ten. It wasn’t too late to try to find another way. “I have other ways of getting enough, it’s fine. I don’t want your money if I didn’t earn it.”

  “I don’t break promises,” he said slowly. “Or contracts.”

  “I won’t judge your personal integrity on a clause you insisted on but I didn’t.”

  “It was worth it to see you skewer them all even once.”

  “Ah, but you haven’t seen the dress I picked out to wear to Robo-Janet’s wedding.”

  His eyes snapped fully open, a grin spreading on his face. “Robo-Janet?”

  “She seems kind of fake. To the point of being manufactured.”

  He chuckled.

  “See, how can you go to that wedding without me? You’ll go nuts. You need me there.” Please need me there. And all the rest of the time.

  “It wasn’t because of that.”

  “What wasn’t?”

  “I wasn’t thinking we should cancel the contract because I don’t want you there.”

  “Well, then why were you?”

  He opened his mouth, but hesitated.

  “Well, fancy seeing you two here.” Frank’s voice cut through the moment. He stood next to them, looming over the table. “Ready to reconsider my offer, Crazytown?”

  “What is it, 1999? I’d rather grade freshman exams. Or stab myself in the eye with this pencil.” Or do just about anything else.

  “Your loss, freak.”

  “Leave us alone, Frank,” Jack said. “What are you doing here, anyway? You’re not welcome here.”

  “Hey, any bar is good enough for me. But is this your kind of place? Oh, I see, Crazytown is actually a dude, right? I get it. Sick, man.”

  Jack jumped to his feet and shoved his brother back three feet, the two of them squaring off. Any more primal, and they’d start pounding chests. She had to admit a part of her sort of grudgingly liked it.

  Adrian leaned down and whispered in her ear from behind. “Two in one night? You have him wrapped around your finger, honey.”

  She glanced back at Adrian in surprise. “What? No, that’s his brother. I thought—”

  Adrian gave her an oh-don’t-give-me-that look. “If I had a guy start two fights over me in less than two hours, I’d be taking him home to let off some of that steam.” He winked. “You should direct that energy elsewhere. Like at your lady parts.”

  Vi snorted but turned back to the fight.

  “There are so many problems with that statement, I don’t even know where to start,” Jack growled at Frank. “I’m not going to sit here while you dish out your bullshit. Just get out of here.”

  Of course, most guys wouldn’t—and couldn’t—back down that easily. They were in it now, until one or both of them got dragged out by the bouncer.

  Unless…

  Vi grabbed her purse and jumped up, sidling between Jack and Frank for a moment. “Yeah, why don’t you just get out of here, Frank?” She reached inside her purse and twisted the top on her steampunk-themed compact, gears clacking, the sound of metal on metal very much like the cocking of a pistol. She didn’t think Frank had heard it, though. She jabbed the edge of the purse against Frank’s rib, and he took a step back. “This is the wrong part of town for your trans-phobic, misogynistic crap. And I just got my concealed carry. Been itching for an excuse to give my new baby a whirl. Ain’t that right, honey?” Pouring it on thick. Although she was starting to sound a bit too much like a rancher’s wife for her taste.

  “Did you pick the Ruger or the Glock in the end, my love?”

  When had Jack gone from being so shitty to being so damn swoon-worthy? That was a beautiful sentence to hear. Way to distract me and get me all heated, Sentinel, and in the middle of a battle, nonetheless. Nothing like the talk of firearms to really, truly turn her on. Max was such a waste of time.

  “The Smith & Wesson revolver, actually. I’m an old-fashioned kind of girl.” Also, the others probably couldn’t realistically be cocked inside her handbag, and the size of the S&W revolver made it a good choice for self-defense. Not that Frank was likely to know that.

  She twisted the compact again, the click-click easier to hear this time over the din.

  Frank’s eyes widened, more freaked out than actually scared. “Old-fashioned? Like the damned Wild West. Jesus, fine, I’m leaving. You’re both nuts.”

  “Maybe mental health isn’t something you should joke about, douche.”

  “Get bent, Frank,” Jack added.

  Frank backed off, leaving the two of them staring him down, her slightly in front of Jack’s taller frame. It was a good feeling, indeed a little like a couple defending some frontier homestead or two party members in an MMO, watching their raid victory unfold.

  “Do you really have a Smith & Wesson in there?” he asked, smiling.

  “No, it’s in the car,” she said so only he could hear. She grinned and, once Frank was clearly out of the bar, held up the compact to him and then the others, spinning its gears with a loud click-click-click. They burst out laughing.

  “Oh my God, you’re so hot when you’re angry,” he muttered.

  She raised h
er eyebrows. His lips were parted and eyes wide, as if the horses had bolted straight through the closed barn door, and she chuckled outright. That was kind of an asshole thing to say. No wonder she liked it.

  “I mean— Sorry. I mean, when your anger is directed at— I mean— Oh, never mind. Do you want another drink?”

  “Sure.” Since they were already standing, her wallet in hand, they walked toward the bar. She could pay this time. Except, the world had a delightfully happy and warm sheen at the moment. Old-fashioneds were strong, especially here. If she had another one, she might fall asleep.

  Who was she kidding? If she had another one, she was going to tackle him into the bathroom. Or right there in the seat. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing, but she was still quite a bit foggy on if he actually wanted that. Well, he had just called her hot. That helped.

  Maybe he got turned on by the idea of paying for sex. While that was not happening, a guy could pretend. That was really not giving him any credit, though. He might just be horny, and she might just be nearby.

  “Wait—I’m not sure I want another one,” she said before he could reach the bar. “At least… not here.”

  “Oh.” His face fell. “You ready to head home or… something?”

  Time to take a risk.

  “Or something.” She sidled up beside him. His arms snaked around her waist again, so naturally. As if they belonged there. It seemed like an answer to her silent question.

  His eyes searched her face, thinking hard. “Do you want to… go somewhere with me? Like, other than here?”

  “Like where? Like another bar?” Like the bathroom, or the alleyway, or a cab, or the nearest possible place, so you can—

  “What about my place?” he said softly.

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Wait, you have a place?” Fuck couch surfing, indeed.

  He nodded once. “I don’t take just anybody there. Well, to tell the truth, I don’t take anyone at all. I keep it pretty private. That might be an understatement.”

  But he wanted to take her. Holy shit. “Another secret, right?”

  “Yes. Is that… okay?” His face searched hers for some sign of wariness or judgment, she suspected. He wouldn’t find it. Sometimes she wished she could hide from the world too.

  “Yes, of course. I can’t blame you, with the family you’ve got.” She looked off into the distance, though, still struggling to process. “The Seven of Swords…” Hiding away from the world. Lone wolf. Deception indeed.

  “Yeah, that nailed it. So… do you want to come back with me? Let’s get out of here. Mouse won’t mind. I think he’s actually shooing us toward the door. Maybe our heterosexual vibes are annoying him.”

  She snickered. “Okay, yeah, let’s go.” Oh, no, that seemed too flippant. “I’d be honored to see your place,” she added more reverently.

  He had a small smile on his face as he waved goodbye to Mouse and pulled her by the hand through the crowd to the door.

  “Did you drive?” he asked.

  “Mouse gave me a ride.”

  “Oh, right. You said that was the plan.”

  “We can take the 500. It goes by here in about—”

  But he was already giving his keys to the valet. Oh. She’d kind of figured he walked everywhere, as he’d walked to and from Riola’s every time she’d met him there, and the barbecue too.

  “You have a car,” she said, more to state the obvious than to actually converse.

  He nodded.

  “Why are you always walking, then? Oh, another secret. You hide the car too?”

  “Yeah. It’s not exactly a secret, I just don’t talk about things and I let people believe what they believe.”

  “Your whole life is like Fight Club. Why not talk about it?”

  He shrugged. “Look at my family. Money has done them no favors. You think Robo-Janet actually likes my dad, or does she just like his bank account?”

  “And would he like her if she gained fifty pounds? Or a hundred, for that matter? Or maybe it’s plastic surgery. Seems like something’s been done to her. Is she a Stepford wife? He doesn’t seem to care much for Greek literature. Or vegan food.”

  “You are so perceptive.” He grinned. “I do think it’s her excellent diet with a side of nip and tuck. She appears to be mostly organic. That doesn’t rule out extraterrestrials, though.”

  “So you hide all this because… you don’t want to be like them.”

  He nodded now, sobering.

  “Wow. So… those cards were more spot-on than I realized.”

  “Yep.”

  The wheels in her head turned, processing, as she scrambled to find cash for a tip. It was the least she could do after he’d bought all those drinks, and interestingly enough, he accepted it with a meaningful but unreadable look in his eyes. It also made her feel less like a fancy call girl in thigh-high dominatrix boots.

  So… he hid all his material belongings, instead choosing to pass himself off as a gamer, a slacker, a couch surfer, whatever people saw in him as long as it wasn’t a source of gold to be mined.

  And yet, some part of him had concocted this scheme to stop his father trying to find girls for him, and the first thing he’d thought of was using money. Of course, if he owned a business, that wasn’t the craziest thing. Work you can’t do, you subcontract.

  But he’d shown his hand to her inadvertently, even from the beginning, more than he showed everybody else. She hadn’t even realized it for what it was, but he had this gigantic fortress of solitude built up around him, and every part of his plan had necessitated letting exactly one person see partway in.

  And for that, he’d chosen her.

  She couldn’t even name the emotions that swelled at that thought. Her mind was whirling but still not quite prepared for the valet to hand him the keys and open the door of a red Beamer for her.

  Holy hell. This dude was not just hiding a little bit. He was hiding a lot. Was that scary or exciting? It was… unusual at least. Dysfunctional? Maybe. But she could see the logic to it.

  “Look at this car, Jack. Jesus.”

  “You like it?”

  “Nothing like fine German engineering.”

  He smiled, obviously nervous. Which made sense. She was too.

  He pulled onto the street. They said nothing for a few minutes as he negotiated the turns and ramp onto the highway.

  “Let’s consider our contract terminated.” His voice cut through the silence, all business again. It was equal parts terrifying—when do you ever want to hear that—and extremely hot. “I didn’t anticipate… any of this.” His eyes stayed on the road.

  “No. Way. I want to go to the wedding with you.”

  He spared her one glance, eyebrows raised. “So you can wear the dress you bought?”

  “No. Well, yes. And so I can have a chance to spar with Robo-Janet and the asshole twins again.” And so none of their girls could get their hooks into you, because I want you all for myself. Enough time and even Olivia might be able to get through to him. Vi wasn’t giving her that chance.

  He took a quick exit, pulling off the highway and saying nothing. When he stopped at a red light, he turned to gaze at her, his expression serious. “How about you come as my actual girlfriend, and not my pretend one?”

  Holy tomatoes, Batman. She blinked. Hadn’t been expecting that one. What had Adrian said, wrapped around her finger?

  In answer, she popped her seat belt, leaned across the seats, grabbed his face with both hands, and kissed him, running her fingers through his hair. Only a beep from the car behind them got her to break away, a little embarrassed. The light was green.

  “Is that a yes?”

  “It’s a fuck yes.”

  “Good.”

  He visibly relaxed as he turned left down the next street. He was too far away. She reached over and massaged the back of his neck, his scalp, tousling further that already-messy hair. A look of pleasure crossed his features for the first time, sending a shiver
through her. She couldn’t tear her eyes away.

  “Oh, shit.”

  “What is it?” He glanced over, alarmed.

  “I completely forgot. I left my coat in Mouse’s car. I’ll text him.” She grabbed for her phone.

  “I can drive you home wherever. Or I have extra coats.”

  She nodded, sent a quick text to Mouse, and took a deep breath. Wow, she must have really been stunned—or desperate—to just forget something like that. Two more traffic lights passed in silence.

  “This is probably the part where we should talk about who we’ve fucked and all that,” Violet muttered. “At least, based on what I have planned.”

  He laughed. “Is that so? You don’t want to watch a movie? Mortal Kombat?”

  “Maybe later.”

  “Well, I got tested a couple months back. I’m clean.”

  “Me too. Actually it was just a couple of weeks ago. I… had a feeling Max had some ulterior motives for dumping me.”

  “Fuck, really? Why?”

  “We’d broken up before, but he’d never ditched me with a box of my stuff at the same time he told me the news. He had prepared, that time. I think that’s really why he’s back at me now. The other chick moved on, or won’t go with him out of state.”

  “He wanted you to move out of state? That sounds… that sounds awful.” He was scowling. She should move on from this topic. She wanted to bring the other expression back, the one of pleasure.

  “Don’t know why I ever thought he was smart. Pro tip: even guys who look like lumberjacks can network their way to the top. Thankfully, I’ve learned my lesson.”

  He smiled. “I fear you’re trading down in the smarts department.”

  “Heh. You haven’t heard his ‘social media is destroying the world’ rant.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, that’s rich.”

  “What’s rich?”

  He glanced at her, confused for a second. “You know. YouTube. Twitch. A little Twitter and Facebook here and there. Social-media platforms are how I make a living.”

  “Oh my God, they are.” She covered her mouth with her hand, laughing.