She's Got Game Read online

  This was also why I needed to win the competition. Without the cash prize, my days as Gallivanting Gwen neared the end. If I only had myself to worry about, I’d be okay. Plenty of practice living cheaply. But I’d had two wonderful years of gallivanting around, only thinking of myself. Dad needed a break. He’d work himself to death at his shop if I let him. I refused to let him. With my prize money from the contest, Dad and I could take a much-needed vacation together. We didn’t see each other nearly enough since I moved out, and it was time for us to reconnect. All I had to do was beat Cody.

  Once again, my thoughts brought me full circle. Maybe I should get out of here. The best thing to do was to go downstairs, call a ride, find the nearest bar, and ask some stranger to kiss me until I couldn’t remember Cody’s name or my own. Or skip all the BS and use an app to hook up with the closest person.

  Another pull from my beer made this seem like an even better idea. My frustration wasn’t about Cody, it was simple loneliness. But not for much longer. I pulled out my phone and started tapping away, swiping on one profile after another, not sure exactly what I wanted. Sadly, not a single one of them reminded me of Gilbert Blythe.

  The door behind me clanged shut. Squeezing my eyes shut, I prayed it was some random person out for a stroll.

  “You couldn’t sleep, either?”

  Clearly, my prayers got misrouted to the wrong place. Or perhaps delayed due to a mechanical issue.

  Refusing to open my eyes, I nodded.

  He leaned against the balcony beside me. “Hey, Carrots.”

  “Why do you call me that?”

  “Maybe I’m hoping you’ll break a slate over my head.”

  I chuckled, sipping my beer. “You assume all redheads have a temper?”

  “No. You told me you flipped the table during a game of Monopoly. Kind of a hint.” I flushed, still avoiding his eyes. “Don’t worry. I liked that story.”

  “If you’re out here to provoke me, it won’t work,” I said.

  He shook his head. “Just looking for some fresh air. I slept on the plane, so I’m not tired.”

  The things he said in the elevator still stung, even though he hadn’t been entirely wrong. I didn’t want to stand out here and drink with him. But I also didn’t want to argue. Instead, I shotgunned the rest of my beer and turned to leave.

  He put one hand on my arm. I shivered. “Hey, wait. I’m sorry about before. Your personal life is none of my business.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “It’s not.”

  “It’s just… I care about you. I want to be with you. You’re dealing with a lot, I get it. If you want to take things slow, that’s fine. If you want to stay only friends until after Vegas, that’s cool, too. But please don’t shut me out because we’re both part of the same contest. We could be amazing together, if you’d let yourself take a chance.”

  My heart fluttered at his words. It hurt to admit it, but he’d somehow managed to worm his way under my skin. I believed him when he said he cared about me, and despite my better judgment, I cared about him. Our kiss may have been smoking hot, but it also held notes of tenderness. I didn’t know the first thing to do about any of these other feelings, but I had an idea how to deal with the physical attraction.

  “No.” My tongue darted out to moisten my suddenly dry lips. “I don’t want to wait until after Vegas.”

  His eyes lit up. “You mean…?”

  Not knowing what else to say, I went for full honesty. “I don’t know how to do this.”

  “It’s okay.” He let out a breath, as if expecting me to reject him. “We’ll figure it out together.”

  I offered a small smile. “Thanks.”

  He held up a six-pack I hadn’t noticed him carrying. “Would you like to have a drink with me?”

  “That would be nice. Thanks.”

  The beer was good, from a local brewery. Dark and full of hops, the way I liked it. Turning back around, I went back to admiring the view. We fell silent, lost in our own thoughts. No matter how hard I tried to focus on anything else, I remained very aware of his proximity. He stood so close, our arms almost touched. If I moved the tiniest bit, I’d brush up against him.

  I shivered. It was a warm night, but my thin pajama tank top was no match for the breeze. After a brief hesitation, Cody shrugged out of his hoodie and wrapped it around my shoulders. The gesture made me warmer inside than the shirt itself. The soft fabric smelled like him. The intoxicating scent that brought me onto this deck in the first place.

  “Thanks.”

  He left his arm around my shoulders, pulling me lightly against him. I could’ve moved away, probably should have. But he was warm, and our closeness relaxed me. My brain hadn’t quite comprehended everything he’d said earlier. Part of me still wanted to flee, to choose safe anonymous encounters over the risk of a broken heart. I still had time to find a random profile, swipe right. Pick anyone. Get Cody out of my system.

  But I didn’t want to. For the first time, I admitted to myself that I wanted him in my system. I liked him, he liked me. We were both unattached, consenting adults. And running away had become exhausting. It distracted me from the competition every bit as much as being with him would—even if things went bad.

  Turning toward Cody, I slipped one hand around his waist. His other arm came up to cup my chin. I pulled him toward me. My tank top slipped down, revealing most of the top of my left breast, but I didn’t fix it. His eyes followed the fabric’s path.

  “Are you sure about this?” he asked. “I thought you wanted to take things slow.”

  “We’ve known each other for more than two months,” I pointed out.

  “True. But you’ve spent most of that time rejecting me.”

  “I can’t stop thinking about you,” I said. “Ever since we met. And the more time I spend with you, the more I want. Emotionally, yeah, we may need to take it slow. But right now, all I want is for you to kiss me.”

  He started to lean forward, then stopped and grinned down at me. “Does this mean you like me now?”

  “It’s not that I didn’t like you before,” I said. “I avoid gamers outside the tables. You know that. But I want you. I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to break my rules. I want to get the awkwardness and tension between us out so I can focus on the tournament.”

  “That’s all this is? About beating me at some game?”

  If I’d doubted his feelings before, seeing the hurt look in his eyes cemented them. Despite everything, he liked me. Quickly, I said, “No. It’s about chemistry. Chemistry so strong, I can barely focus when you’re around. And when you’re not around, I keep thinking about when I’ll see you again, and all the things I’m afraid to admit I want to do with you. I’m tired of playing it safe.”

  My hips rubbed against his, instantly rewarded when he swelled against my thigh. Running one hand up his chest to the nape of his neck, I grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled his head until his lips were inches from mine. The electricity between us could’ve lit up the entire city. My entire body hummed with it. He had to feel it, too.

  Cody pulled me even closer against him. “You have no idea how badly I want you.”

  “I think I do.”

  His lips moved closer, nearly brushing against my ear. My neck. Hitting the corner of my mouth before moving on. A shiver went through me that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. Without his mouth even touching me, he got me more turned on than the last three people I’d slept with combined. My head fell back, giving him better access.

  “Please kiss me before I explode.”

  “Nope, can’t.”

  My head sprang up. If he’d been messing with me all this time, I’d never forgive him. “What do you mean, you can’t? Do you have a girlfriend?”

  “Of course not,” he said. “But you made me promise I wouldn’
t kiss you. And I always keep my promises.”

  A smile spread across my face. Maybe Cody was a gentleman after all. Pulling his lips to mine, I whispered, “I’m suddenly very glad you didn’t promise not to kiss me back.”

  The world fell away. Our clothes melted, and before I knew it, I lay on my back on an outdoor chaise lounge, Cody over me, pulling a condom out of his wallet. His eyes bored into mine. His touch swept up and down my body, lighting a fire everywhere it went.

  Chapter 13

  Mornings after tended to be awkward. Avoiding eyes, fumbling with clothes, whispered promises no one believed. But I had to face Cody at the competition later, would likely wind up sharing a table with him at some point, either here or at the finals in Vegas. Besides, this wasn’t some random hookup. I knew Cody, I liked him, and I’d promised to give him a real chance. That added a layer to the morning-after conversation, one I didn’t know how to deal with.

  Luckily for me, Mother Nature took matters into her own hands. When I awoke, exactly three things registered in my mind: the hardness of the deck chair against my back, the firmness of Cody’s arms around me, and the cold wetness of the rain pelting my face.

  With a shout, I scrambled to my feet, reaching for my clothes. Cody sat up behind me, started to say something, then looked at the sky and changed his mind. The two of us grabbed our things and raced for the overhang by the stairs to get dressed in relative dryness. Thanks to the wind, the two-foot ceiling didn’t help much. Apparently, whoever nicknamed Chicago The Windy City wasn’t being ironic.

  Cody said something, but a gust whipped his words away. I cupped one hand over my ear and said, “What?” I couldn’t even hear myself, so I doubted he understood. Maybe the blank look on my face helped.

  Now wearing shorts and a t-shirt, stuffing his boxer briefs into one pocket, he tugged the door open. Great, he was ditching me here while I still stood half naked. To my surprise, he held the door, standing in the rain to let me go first. I gave up trying to untangle my bra and yanked my tank top over my head before darting through the opening. My sandals dangled from one hand, and my panties could have been anywhere. It wasn’t worth going back for them.

  “Thanks,” I said when the door clanged shut behind us, muting the worst of the storm.

  “Welcome.” He pulled out his phone and shook water off the cover.

  For a long, horrifying second, I gazed at the door, patting myself down and wondering if I’d left my own device to drown. Then I remembered slipping it into a side pocket of my pants when Cody arrived the night before. Thankfully, it was still there, dry and secure. Turned to silent last night, because I didn’t want to receive an ill-timed text talking me out of making a bad decision.

  A really nice bad decision. A decision I’d enjoyed thoroughly; maybe it wasn’t so bad.

  That decision cleared his throat, bringing my attention back to the present. “I hate to do this, but I gotta go.”

  Of course he did. Because that’s what happened when people who barely knew each other had uncommitted outdoor sex on a rooftop. Even when one of them claimed to really like the other first. I should’ve known. Trying to hide my disappointment, I focused on putting my shoes on. “I understand. See you around.”

  “Yeah… no. Wait.” He stepped closer, put one hand on my waist. I flinched, well aware of how much more awkward things would get if he tried to pretend he wasn’t brushing me off. “I mean, we have to go. It’s eight-thirty.”

  Those words snapped me out of my morning-after stupor. The competition started at nine, and we were a good three quarters of a mile away from the hotel, sopping wet, wearing drenched clothes. I’d forgotten to set an alarm. “Crap.”

  “Yeah. Meet me downstairs in ten?”

  I shook my head. “Don’t wait for me. Go. You can make it if you run. I’ll catch up.”

  “Okay. See you there.” Before he left, he pressed his lips to mine. Perfunctory. Quick. A good-bye kiss. Exactly the sort of brush off I usually gave people after a night together.

  But I didn’t have time to dwell. Ignoring the elevators, I followed Cody down the stairs, close at his heels.

  Back in my apartment, I darted for the bathroom mirror. My eyes widened. “Drowned rat” didn’t even begin to describe the damage, and I had about three minutes to fix it before I needed to be out the front door. It wasn’t even worth trying. We’d never get a ride in this rain, and I couldn’t run with an umbrella, even if the owner of this place happened to have left one where I could find it in less than thirty seconds.

  With one hand, I yanked a comb through my hair to undo the worst of the tangles while brushing my teeth with the other. I grabbed my backpack and stuffed a dry bra, panties, t-shirt, and capris into it. A washcloth under my eyes removed the worst of the raccoon look. When I finished, I snuck a peek at my phone. Eight forty.

  Out of sheer desperation, I pulled up an app to look for a car while racing down the stairs to the lobby. The nearest driver was eight minutes away. Never gonna happen. Not even worth hoping for a miracle. I paused at the doors long enough to verify that Cody wasn’t waiting for me. Then I centered the bag on my back, put my head down, and ran.

  Thankfully, most of the tourists wisely got off the streets when the downpour started. The skies cleared by the time the hotel came into view, but I didn’t slow. I darted through the hotel lobby, glad I’d looked at the conference center map the night before. According to the clock on the wall, it was eight-fifty.

  In the hotel restroom, I ripped off my sodden clothes and patted myself quickly with a hand towel. It took me about thirty seconds to get dressed before I shoved my head under the hand dryer. The lukewarm air did nothing. After wasting close to a minute, I wrung my hair out over the sink, pulled it back into a loose braid, and threw my clothes into my bag. They’d be disgusting by the end of the day, and part of me wanted to throw them away, but the rental condo had laundry in the basement. I’d survive, as long as I got to the conference room in time. If my night with Cody resulted in my disqualification from the competition, I’d never forgive myself. Or him. Maybe blaming Cody wasn’t fair, but I’d worry about that if I didn’t get to my table in time.

  After a frantic glance at the list by the doors, I slid into my seat as the warning bell rang, heart pounding. Thank goodness for clearly labeled tables. A quick scan of the room found Cody on the other side, head swiveling as his eyes darted around. He looked right through me, apparently looking for someone else.

  My heart sank. Don wore a similar expression when I’d found him, the morning after he’d snuck out of my room. A pang hit me in the stomach. I couldn’t believe Cody did the same thing, especially after swearing he wanted something more. Tears prickled my eyelids, but I couldn’t let them fall. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and counted to ten.

  By the time I opened them, frustration had replaced the angst. What a frakking jerk. Whatever. I should’ve known better. Of course he ignored me now that he got what he wanted. Just like Don did. That’s what I got for breaking my rule.

  The first game passed uneventfully, with me pulling a second place finish. The other players at the table seemed to know each other, and they chatted easily, giving me a chance to calm my racing heart and my thoughts. Considering the rude wake-up call we got, my performance in the first game made me reasonably happy. Not a terrible way to start the day.

  Since people ate their lunches in another room as they finished games rather than at a set meal time, I didn’t see Cody again until my final game. The random draw placed us at the same table, with him sitting directly to my right. My heart sank at the seating assignments. After he’d avoided me this morning, I couldn’t stand the thought of sharing a game and exchanging pleasantries with him. But I didn’t have a choice if I wanted to move on and play another day.

  Determined to be polite, I muttered a response to his “hey” before turning my attention to the r
est of the table. The seat across from me remained empty. To my left sat a woman who proclaimed that she’d been gaming since I wore diapers.

  “You and me both,” I replied.

  Cody’s lips twitched, but he studied the board and didn’t join the conversation. I tried not to look at those lips, to think about kissing them. Or all the other things we’d kissed and caressed. All the things I’d planned to kiss again when the competition ended for the day. And the next morning. And, again, Sunday night before I flew out.

  I couldn’t think that way. His earlier brush off stung. Even though the rain and timing required us to get off the roof fast, he didn’t have to be so brusque. In the entire time I’d known Cody, this morning was our first interaction where he acted disinterested. As if he’d gotten what he wanted and now was done with me. Then he’d looked right through me, the way my mother did. Exactly what I originally feared, and exactly why I stopped dating gamers. The thought worried at me like a pebble in my shoe. I couldn’t get rid of it.

  Then a larger problem appeared in front of me, in the form of our fourth competitor. Longish brown hair falling over one eye in a way that came across as more charming than sloppy. A grin that reminded me of Chris Pratt. Charm that reminded me of Chris Evans. Muscles that reminded me of Chris Hemsworth. All of my weaknesses rolled into one. Or at least, he had been, when I first met Don four years ago. Unfortunately, he also had the morals of a sewer rat, something I didn’t learn until too late. Now, when he settled into his seat next to Cody, I wondered what I’d ever seen in this guy. Maybe Cody saw it, too, because he grimaced and began focusing extra hard on the board in front of him.

  “Hey, Gwen.” Don winked at me. “If I’d known you’d have been here, I might’ve flown in last night.”

  Internally, I shuddered, but I knew better than to show a reaction.

  Cody glanced my way, his expression guarded. “You two know each other?”