She's Got Game Read online

  He smirked. “Biblically.”

  Cody snorted under his breath, which made me want to smack him. Silently, I reminded myself not to let either of them get a rise out of me. “We all make mistakes.”

  “Don’t be like that. You know I’d give you another ride if you asked nicely.”

  Ew. My cheeks burned. The woman beside me studied her cuticles. I thought her name was Pamela, but she hadn’t replied when I’d offered mine. Her translucent skin and hunched shoulders suggested she worked in an office, probably one without a lot of social interaction. Too bad, because I’d have dearly loved to ignore the other two at this table and give her my undivided attention to show how little they mattered. Not even a blip on my radar.

  Beside me, Cody pulled out his phone, ignoring me further. Ouch.

  A second later, my own phone vibrated in my pocket. Oh.

  Cody: I thought you didn’t hook up with gamers? :-(

  Gwen: You just met the reason why. I was younger and dumber then.

  Or younger, I added to myself. Some mistakes apparently got repeated.

  Cody: A heads-up before I sat down might’ve been nice.

  Gwen: Didn’t know. And you didn’t seem interested in talking when I got here.

  I put my phone away before seeing if Cody replied. Even if he wanted to explain, now wasn’t the time. This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have in front of Don. It would become painfully obvious in a couple of minutes that Cody and I were texting each other, even to this Neanderthal.

  To my immense relief, the game started, taking away the need to rehash my unfortunate history with either of the men sitting at the table. Cody started, and pieces quickly filled the board.

  When it came time to make my second placement, I studied my options. One spot would give me all the resources I needed. In a game requiring a variety of resources to accomplish anything, that place tempted me strongly. But the other option left me well-positioned for the first few turns, even though it would be tough to get wood. I’d be able to open up new trade routes to give me resources without relying on the other players. And I’d be able to connect my two settlements fairly early on, which gave me an advantage. It was a riskier placement, but carried the greater possibility for payoff, if the dice went my way.

  I set my pieces, waiting for Cody to take the place I left open for him. He’d get what he needed, and the two of us should manage a strong showing going into the second day of the contest.

  Instead, he set his pieces on the board directly between my two settlements. In the exact spot I planned to go next. In the place I needed to be to trade my goods, to connect my buildings. In the last place I expected him to go.

  My jaw dropped. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking my turn. You’re familiar with the game, right?”

  “You don’t want to go there instead?” I pointed to the place I’d left open for him, a decent location that would provide the two resources he needed.

  Don started to say he couldn’t move after placing, but Cody’s eyes never left mine.

  “No, this spot is better.”

  “But that’s my spot. It doesn’t make any sense for you to go there.”

  He shrugged. “Sure it does. I need wood. And it leaves me near a trading port.”

  “A port you can’t even use without ore.”

  “I’ll get ore.”

  Except he wouldn’t. He’d completely screwed me with his build, by putting his pieces in a spot that wasn’t even very advantageous to him. And from the look on his face when I challenged him, he’d done it on purpose. That was when I knew with certainty everything between us had been a lie.

  Just like Don, four years ago. Cody swooped in, charmed me, got past my barriers… only to screw me. Literally and figuratively. I’d allowed myself to trust him, and now I sat about forty minutes away from certain elimination. Victory would not be mine.

  What an idiot I was. If we hadn’t been in the middle of the conference center, I might’ve cried. But I’d learned years ago not to show weakness at these events. My fingers curled into fists, the pain of my fingernails against my palms keeping the tears at bay.

  If I was going down, he was going down with me. Screw the competition. Screw winning. The only thing I wanted in the world was to make him lose.

  Through my teeth, I hissed at him. “You’re going to regret that.”

  Chapter 14

  Pamela and Don might as well not have even been sitting at the table, for all the attention I paid them the rest of the game. I hyper-focused on destroying Cody, at the expense of my own score. Since I couldn’t win, all that mattered was making sure he didn’t win, either. Last night, Cody joked about wanting to see my temper. Well, he was about to get the full force of it.

  Each turn, I eschewed growth and went for the attack cards. Every turn I could attack, I did attack. Always Cody. I stole his cards, I blocked his roads. Hell hath no fury, and Cody’d sent me down a path leading straight to those fiery pits. The first couple of turns, he made jokes when I went after him, but after about ten minutes, he fell silent. His leg moved away from mine under the table. Pamela and Don watched, each taking their turns as their eyes flickered back and forth between us and our grudge match.

  About half an hour into the game when I went after Cody again even though he had five points and Don and I each had eight, his eyes flashed. A muscle in his jaw ticked. But he said nothing, and I wasn’t about to apologize. After all, he couldn’t say I hadn’t warned him. I even gave him a chance to move his pieces. He started this. All I ever wanted was to be left alone. He didn’t get to complain about the way I ended things.

  Don rolled the dice, an unfortunate move that wound up taking half his cards and Cody’s. Since I’d been ignoring him the entire game, he took a card from Pamela, but apparently couldn’t do anything with whatever he got. He ended his turn without building or buying anything. Cody, who’d grown wise to my plan, bought a card, glaring at me the entire time. The subtext filled the air between us. I’m coming after you.

  It wouldn’t matter. I rolled the dice, took my resources. Then I glanced at my cards. Exactly enough to upgrade one of my buildings and still buy another card. I did so mechanically, giving Cody the same look he gave me.

  Then I looked at a card I’d left facedown for several turns. One victory point.

  That gave me ten.

  Holy guacamole. Somehow, I’d actually won. Cody, still at five points, came in fourth. But then our eyes met. Instead of the expected fury, I saw hurt and confusion. As if he had no idea why I’d gone after him so hard.

  * * * *

  My fit of pique nearly knocked Cody out of the competition. Not quite, but he’d need to score first place during both games the next day to recover and move on to the finals in Las Vegas. Good. He brought it upon himself. He’d snorted at Don’s “biblical” comment. He went after me at the beginning, in a way that should have guaranteed me a loss. Only the luck of the dice salvaged the game for me.

  Not to mention, the way he’d made me fall for him, despite my best efforts, then blew me off. The jerk.

  As soon as the contest organizers confirmed my victory and recorded the points for our table, I disappeared into the bathroom. I didn’t need to be anywhere until the competition resumed in about fifteen hours, so I wanted time to collect myself and wait until all the other gamers left before heading out to explore the city.

  Unlike Charlotte, the lists of things to do in Chicago included dozens of hot spots, no matter what your interests. I moved into a stall and sat on the closed lid of the toilet, using the hotel’s Wi-Fi to review my options. Lost in the crowd, that was the plan. The Fields Museum wasn’t terribly far, and it seemed like a good place to wander, wallowing in my thoughts and licking my wounds. After, I’d pick up a Chicago-style pizza and some beer, then take them back to my room for a more adul
t pity party. According to my app, a car waited about three minutes away, so I took a deep breath, splashed some water on my face, and went back out into the lobby.

  Cody leaned against the wall opposite the ladies’ room door, arms crossed. His lips pressed together in a firm line, and for once, he wasn’t tapping away on his phone.

  Uh-oh. I’d expected him to head to the bar, find some other sucker—er, pretty girl—to distract him, and avoid me until we left on Sunday. Since I wasn’t flying back to Boston, we hopefully wouldn’t see each other at the airport. When you weren’t sharing a gate with someone, airports were an excellent place to avoid people.

  Except in Chicago, apparently.

  A couple dozen people wandered the lobby, and we stood blocking the entrance to both restrooms, plus a water fountain. “Not here.”

  “Fine.” He led the way out the doors, down a hallway next to the conference center. A check of an unlocked door gave us access to the room where lunch had been served earlier. Empty tables scattered around the room, waiting for tournament volunteers to return and fill them with muffins in the morning.

  Part of me screamed to run away, head for the nearest train station, or grab a car. I had nothing to say to Cody anymore. Our awkward good-bye this morning, his snort at Don’s comment, and the way he tried to block me in the game told me everything I needed to know.

  “Why?”

  If he’d come at me with anger, I would’ve snapped at him. But the quiet disappointment broke something inside me. Regret kicked me in the stomach. “You and Don were laughing at me. Haha, Gwen. She’s so stupid, she sleeps with gamers who pretend to like her.”

  His eyes grew round. “Is that what you think of me?”

  “It’s fine, I get it. Last night didn’t mean anything to you. Usually, I’m the same way. But you lied. You said it meant something. I liked you, against my better judgment. You knew my history, you knew I was taking a chance on you. And everything you said was bull. Just another opportunity to inflate your ego.”

  “It was never about my ego. I really liked you.”

  Past tense. The word echoed throughout the room. Liked me once, but then he stopped. Like how my mom once cared about my dad. Like how Lucas seemed to love Holly while cheating on her and stealing from her. I was so stupid.

  He paced away from me before turning, hands on hips. “This is ridiculous. Why am I trying to make you feel better when you just spent an hour attacking me and making me feel like garbage?”

  Um, for exactly the reasons I said thirty seconds ago. But I didn’t say that. “Whatever. I don’t need to feel better. I made a mistake. You made that very clear.”

  “You’re seriously this mad because I built my settlement between yours? Because I blocked your access to a port? It’s a game, Gwen.”

  “That’s the problem,” I snapped. “To you, it’s only a game. You knew I didn’t want to get involved with you, and you took my hesitation as a personal challenge. Then you ignored me all day, and as soon as we were forced to spend time together, you laughed at me.”

  “I’m talking about the actual game, not about us. Explorers? Is only a game.” He inhaled slowly, his chest rising and falling before he continued. I tried not to let the memory of what lay beneath his shirt distract me. “First, I didn’t ignore you this morning.”

  “Weird. I must have missed our conversations, then.”

  “I looked for you! At every table, I looked for you. But there are a lot of people here, and you’re not the tallest. Even being one of only a handful of females, you’re not always easy to spot.”

  “When our eyes met this morning, you looked away.”

  He shook his head, eyes full of earnestness. “I swear, I was looking for you. If our eyes had met, I’d have come to talk to you. I even saved you a seat at lunch, but you got caught up in that long game.”

  With each word he spoke, I felt better about Cody. Worse about me, though. It was a big room. Sometimes it was hard to get people’s attention through the crowd. I hadn’t had time to sit down for lunch. Suddenly, I realized I’d misread the entire situation. My surprise and aggravation at running into Don, combined with my temper and the awkward way Cody and I woke up caused me to act like a complete jerk.

  He continued. “Second, I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing at Don.”

  “Saying he slept with me.”

  “Acting like he’s such hot shit, and thinking he’d impress me by bragging about his ‘conquests’ or whatever,” he said. “I have no respect for guys like that.”

  “Could’ve fooled me,” I said. “And what about this morning?”

  “What about it? We got soaked, and overslept, so yeah, I ran. It’s not like I bailed on you. You told me to go.”

  “You gave me the classic brushoff. Quick kiss on the check, quick good-bye, then you bolted.”

  “We were late. I didn’t want either of us to get disqualified.” He took a step toward me. The heat of his body made me want to close the gap, but I forced my feet to remain in place. “What was I supposed to do? Pull you into my arms and kiss you like I never wanted to stop? Thank you profusely for taking a chance on me and swear you wouldn’t regret it? Make you promise you wouldn’t pull away from me again now that you’d finally let me in?

  “On second thought, maybe that last one would’ve have been a good idea.”

  I smiled sadly. “Any of those things would’ve left me feeling a million times better than the way things went down.”

  “I’m sorry. Knowing how competitive you are, I figured you’d be more worried about getting here on time than recapping our night.” One hand cupped my face, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. I shivered and nuzzled against him despite myself, closing my eyes at the sensation. “Don’t do that. Look at me.”

  That’s all it took. One look, and I was lost. It was clear from the way he smiled down at me how he felt. I’d been too blinded by my own issues and Don’s comments to see what sat right in front of me. What a jerk I’d been. I leaned into Cody, burying my face against his chest. “I’m sorry. I overreacted.”

  He leaned toward me, just a hair, and waited for me to close the gap. Always the gentleman. Trying to give me what I needed. His eyes were bottomless pools. I could swim in them forever.

  “Cody,” I whispered.

  He whispered back, “Carrots,” which made me smile. “I’m a good guy, Gwen. I’m here for this. For us. I know you’re scared, but I’m not going anywhere.”

  I didn’t know how to react to expressions of emotion. But Cody was a competitive guy, and if I knew anything, it was how to get a gamer to rise to a challenge. “Prove it.”

  “Gladly.”

  A piece of paper wouldn’t have fit into the space between our lips. He tightened his arms around me, pulling me to him. Then, finally, he kissed me, so tenderly my knees buckled. I reached around his neck, pulling him even closer. Last night had been about physical need, but this was different. He hoisted me onto the nearest table, and I clung to him with everything in me. By the time our clothes hit the floor, I couldn’t even remember why we’d been arguing.

  * * * *

  After stopping for takeout, Cody and I spent the rest of the evening together, not talking. Neither of us mentioned the competition again, but I lay awake thinking about it long after I triple-checked my alarm and curled into his arms to go to sleep.

  My behavior had been completely reprehensible. Yes, we were serious competitors, and we needed to play the game to win. Still, going after him on purpose was the kind of shady gamesmanship that made games less fun for everyone.

  A meme floated around social media for a while. “If you’re not prepared to lose every friend you have over a game, you’re not playing hard enough.” I’d never played that way before today. Hard core gamers understood that game hate might permeate every inch of the game, and trash talk ran ra
mpant, but at the end of the game, the pieces went away and friendships resumed. It was only a game. Until I let my temper get the better of me.

  You didn’t become champion without losing a few. In the entire competition, everyone remaining had lost at least one game–that’s why they didn’t do a straight elimination tournament. Winning the game required a certain level of skill, sure, but some luck was involved. I shouldn’t have won that game. My animosity should’ve driven me straight to the bottom of the pile. But a few lucky rolls gave me exactly what I needed to get ahead, and I wound up in first.

  After the game, a few more lucky rolls brought me to this point: nestled into Cody’s arms, drifting off to sleep feeling his heart beat against my back, listening to his breath against my ear. Wondering what I’d done to deserve this moment.

  Tomorrow, I’d figure out a way to make things up to him.

  Chapter 15

  The next day dawned bright and sunny. Naturally, because we slept inside under a pile of blankets, not mostly naked outside on a roof. It took about three seconds of deliberation to decide to shut off my alarm and join Cody in the shower rather than hitting snooze like usual.

  We wound up leaving earlier than necessary, taking our time getting to the hotel so we wouldn’t repeat yesterday’s disaster. As we walked, Cody took my hand in his, sending warmth through me. Despite a few pauses that turned into lingering kisses, we made it about twenty minutes before the event started–plenty of time to grab some food. The competition served breakfast, and we’d definitely built up a need for fuel over the past fourteen hours or so. Unfortunately, because of the open jars of peanut butter littering tables inside the snack room, I couldn’t enter.

  Ordinarily, I ate elsewhere to avoid an issue, or I’d text the volunteer organizers and someone would bring me a plate of non-toxic food. When Cody headed for the room where we’d christened the tables the night before, I stopped.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Briefly, I explained. Then added, “It’s not the open containers, although that’s an issue, too. I can stand away from the jars. But there are probably thirty people in there right now eating peanut butter sandwiches. I have my EpiPen, but strongly prefer not to use it. Plus, I don’t want to leave the competition to go to the hospital or have to chug a full bottle of Benadryl before playing.”