She's Got Game Page 15

  “I can understand that,” he said. “I never told you how much it terrified me when you passed out at Dustin’s party.”

  “Not used to your kiss sending women into unconsciousness?”

  He chuckled. “No, you’re the first. Hopefully the last.”

  “#Lifegoals,” I said. “Anyway, go on in if you want. John will have someone bring me tea.”

  He shot me a derisive look. “I’m not going to waltz in there and devour a jar of peanut butter while you wait outside for scraps. I’ll be right back.”

  True to his word, Cody returned less than a minute later with a paper cup in each hand. “Go sit in the lobby. I’ll grab a couple of bagels and meet you there.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “See if they have any fruit?”

  In the lobby, I settled into a chair off to the side to watch the stream of gamers entering the conference. There was always a line for food in the mornings, so I pulled out my phone and settled in to wait.

  A few minutes later, someone said my name. John and his wife Carla approached. I greeted them warmly. Carla rarely traveled with him, preferring to stay behind to manage their game store.

  “Out here hiding from the competition?” John’s words came with the lilting tone and quick grin he used when joking.

  “From the peanut butter monster in the snack room.”

  “Oh, right! I’m sorry. Let me get you something,” Carla said.

  “Thanks, but food is on the way,” I said. “And no need to apologize. You didn’t know I’d be here.”

  “I would’ve, if I’d thought about it. The store keeps me pretty distracted these days.” She rubbed her stomach absent-mindedly, which drew my attention to the bump she normally didn’t have. Her breasts swelled a bit higher than usual beneath her t-shirt, too. New bra, maybe, but I suspected an addition to the family coming soon.

  My first instinct was to congratulate them, but there’s nothing more awkward than incorrectly guessing someone is expecting a baby. Maybe she ate a big breakfast or something. Instead, I asked how the store was doing, promising to stop by the next time I was in town. If they wanted me to know about any upcoming news, they’d mention it.

  We chatted about their new stock until Cody returned with my breakfast. A perfectly toasted onion bagel, cream cheese, and a banana, like I asked. I thanked him with a big smile that matched his.

  “Hey, man,” John said. “How’s it going?”

  “We finally figured out the new Buffy game, but it still hands our asses to us two out of every three plays. Tyler and I think the secret is more players. Two isn’t enough. Otherwise, life is good.”

  “It helps to find the right group. It’s a good game once you get through all the rules.”

  “You guys know each other?” Even though John was the one who originally pointed Cody out to me at the Boston contest, I’d assumed he only knew him as the reigning champion.

  “Yeah, John owns my local game store,” Cody said.

  I looked at him like he explained that George Washington was the first President of the United States. As if I had somehow missed that information. “No, John runs my local game store. With Carla.”

  “Children, children.” Carla laughed. “There’s enough store for both of you.”

  “Gwen’s been coming to the store since she was a little kid. I’ve known her for twenty years.” John explained. To me, he said, “Since moving to Boston, Cody’s part of my weekly game night you never make it to anymore.”

  “It’s a great place,” Cody said. “Close to my house, good game selection, great people. You should come sometime.”

  “Don’t bother,” Carla said to him. “We’ve been trying to get her back for ages. But ever since graduation, Gwen never stays in one place for long.”

  “I love you guys, and I love the store,” I said. “But I make money traveling, so I can’t be in the same place every Tuesday.”

  One of the contest coordinators approached John, so we said our goodbyes. Then Cody and I tucked into our breakfasts. A long time passed before he cleared his throat, took a long swallow of coffee, and broke the silence.

  “I meant what I said. You should come to the weekly games night. We’ve been playing a lot of cooperative, so you don’t have to worry about the embarrassment of losing to me.”

  “I never worry about beating you or anyone else. Made it this far, didn’t I?”

  “Touché. Okay, then, come because you want to hang out with me.”

  I choked on my tea. “What, like a date?”

  “Why is the idea so amusing? There’s obviously something between us.” He lowered his voice. “The last couple of nights were amazing. We’re good together. I want to keep seeing you.”

  “I don’t want this to end, either, but I honestly hadn’t thought much beyond this weekend,” I said. “I know I technically ‘live’ in Boston, but not really. You’ve read my blog. I’m a wanderer. I go where the mood takes me.”

  “Great. Next time the mood brings you to Boston on a Tuesday, come play. I’m not proposing.”

  A thrill went through me at his words. I considered spending an evening with him, playing a game with a common goal—and then exploring our common goals more in the bedroom afterward. Goals that had so far ended in mutual satisfaction. And goals that, if we hurried, we could explore one more time before the first game of the day started.

  “I’ll check my schedule.” My hand reached for his, and our eyes met. The slow smile spreading across his face told me Cody knew exactly what I was thinking. “The snack room’s full.”

  “There’s a unisex restroom right around the corner,” I said. “Single stall. On the way to the workout room.”

  “I’ll meet you there in two minutes.”

  “Race you.”

  * * * *

  Fifteen minutes later, I entered the conference room with a huge smile on my face. Cody’d left the room while I fixed myself, but my eyes found his in the crowded room instantly. An unfamiliar warmth spread through me. I couldn’t get enough of this guy. I didn’t want to get enough. All I wanted was more and more.

  The sudden shift in my emotions freaked me out. Even though Cody said from the beginning that this wasn’t going to be a hookup, part of me hadn’t really believed him. I’d made a choice, an exception to my rule. But in all the whirlwind emotions of the weekend, I hadn’t thought about how we would actually make things work. Sure, with luck we’d be together in Vegas. The final stage of the tournament wasn’t for another month, though. My current schedule didn’t have me in Boston at all before that.

  If I shifted things around a bit, but…would it make a difference? Long distance relationships never worked. Blogging took me all over the country, by car, train, and plane. Boston felt like home, but usually I went back for the big holidays and not much in between. I didn’t want to change my lifestyle.

  At the same time, I didn’t want to give up Cody yet. Especially after everything we’d been through. But if I had to choose a man or furthering my career, work won, hands down. I’ve seen what choosing love did to people, and I didn’t intend to follow in my father’s footsteps.

  Someone appeared at my elbow, breaking my train of thought. I dragged my gaze from Cody’s then immediately wished I hadn’t. Ugh. Don.

  “I texted you last night. Thought we could revisit some old times.”

  A wave of revulsion hit me. “I’d apologize for not responding, but I blocked your number years ago.”

  “That’s harsh. What did I do to you?”

  “Other than making me think you cared about me, pretending you wanted a relationship, then telling everyone you slept with me to win a bet? Nothing.”

  “C’mon, Gwen. Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”

  “No one is making you play. Besides, the game should be open and honest. It’s one thing when
everyone agrees to a one-time thing. You lied.”

  He nodded at where Cody stood on the other side of the room. “I guess you’re okay with liars now.”

  My blood ran cold. “What are you talking about?”

  “I see the way you look at Cody. You know he’s got some chick at home, right? Spends all his time texting her. Constantly at her beck and call. You must have decided you’re okay being used after all.”

  My blood boiled. Every word made me more furious. But this was Don. He was deceptive, someone who liked to stir up trouble, and he loved pushing my buttons. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw a semi-truck.

  “You’re lying.”

  “Fine. Don’t believe me. But, hey, next time you talk to Cody, ask him how Tessa’s doing.”

  I would do no such thing. Based on what I knew about Don, I put the likelihood that Tessa existed at about zero. Yet something bothered me. Cody did text a lot, in the beginning. It had gotten much better but, as I glanced at him, he tapped away at his phone. A chill went down my back. We never spoke between competitions. He…no. I’d made a decision to take a chance on him. If we were going to work, I needed to trust him. Those thoughts got shoved aside.

  Arguing with Don before the first round would only piss me off. Confronting Cody about a stupid rumor would make things worse. I refused to rise to the bait. Instead, I turned to the other players at the table. Across from me sat Angel, who glared at Don like something nasty he’d stepped in.

  The two of us became friends forever two weeks after Don dumped me, when Angel’d introduced me to his “scorched earth” approach to gaming, as he described it. The same technique I’d used against Cody the day before, earning me a forever spot in the Jerk Hall of Fame and nearly wrecking everything. Still, it would’ve been worth it if he’d been blowing me off the way I thought.

  The seat to my right remained empty, although someone would fill it sooner or later. Done with Don, I gave Angel my full attention. “Still playing hard?”

  “You know it.” He grinned at me. “It’s called ‘gaming,’ not ‘braiding each other’s hair.’”

  “So now you’re ignoring me?” Don cut in.

  “I think she’s exercising her preference not to talk to you,” Angel said.

  “Whatever,” Don said. “Maybe I’ll go talk to Cody. The two of us can compare notes. I bet he’s got a few things to thank me for.”

  My jaw clenched. My fingers closed involuntarily into a fist, but I wrapped the other hand around it and pressed it into my lap. What an asshole. Not for the first time, I cursed myself for ever getting involved with him.

  In my defense, I hadn’t known how awful he was at the time. He’d been all smiles and charm and…exactly like Cody, which is why I pushed him away so much in the beginning.

  I’d targeted the wrong person yesterday. Cody hadn’t deserved to be the victim of my “scorched earth” gaming. He wasn’t even the one I’d been mad at—I let my frustration with Don’s comments and my own insecurities overwhelm my common sense.

  But I could fix everything now. After my win the day before, I only needed a few points today to move onto the final round in Vegas. I could devote myself to taking Don down. From the look Angel gave me across the table, I’d have help. We’d successfully employed scorched earth against Don once, we could do it again. It worked even better with two players.

  The fourth chair scraped across the carpet, dragging my attention to the newcomer. Tara, a gamer who lived in Chicago with her wife and newborn daughter. We’d always been friendly, but she’d been too busy to talk much the past few months. Post-competition these days, she mostly slept in her room. But she’d seen Angel play, she knew scorched earth gaming, and she hated Don even more than I did, ever since he found out she was a lesbian a couple of years ago and redoubled his efforts to sleep with her. He still hadn’t figured out it was never going to happen.

  “Hey,” she said, settling into her seat. We all greeted her. She looked down, adjusting the hundreds of tiny black braids she’d pulled back into a ponytail, then mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “tag team?”

  The three of us made a silent pact. Don would not move on from this table. This was going to be fun.

  After my friends and I successfully destroyed the competition, Don would need to win his last game of the day to move on to the final table in Vegas. Exactly the way we wanted. I came in third, but wasn’t worried. My scores allowed me to move on, as long as I didn’t completely tank the final game of the weekend. Angel was guaranteed in, even if he skipped his last game. Tara needed one more win, so we wished each other sincere good luck and went to find our final tables.

  The final table pitted me against Dustin, who I hadn’t seen since Charlotte, a woman named Kerry, and a guy without a visible name badge who simply grunted when I introduced myself. Whatever, dude. Behind him, Don glared at me from his final table, so I preferred not to look in that direction, anyway.

  To show I wasn’t intimidated, I offered Don a sweet smile before turning to study the game board. This layout was rough. Really, only one or two spots were considered great. Others might turn out okay, but a lot depended on the die rolls. Some resources would be scarce, which made building more difficult. We needed to build to accumulate points.

  Dustin rolled first, getting a four. Kerry rolled a ten, and Rude Guy wound up with snake eyes. Maybe that’s what he got for being a dick. With a deep breath, I picked up the dice and sent them across the board. Double sixes.

  Gloating at the table wasn’t good etiquette, but with a board this tough, winning the opening roll felt like a good omen. With a barely contained smile, I placed my opening pieces. Dustin and Kerry played quickly, but Rude Guy stared at the board for what seemed like half an hour before even touching his markers. Finally, he finished his turn, and we went around again.

  For my second option, the other players left me almost nothing. There were no spots on the board where I would get three resources, which were the best spots. Going first turned out to be a distinct disadvantage. Now, anywhere I went, I’d be without one of the essential resources for the entire game, dependent upon the good will of the other players. Rude Guy seemed like the “no sharing” type, so I hoped the other two would help me out.

  My first roll netted me nothing. Without the right cards in hand, I passed the dice to Dustin without doing anything. He built a road. Kerry’s roll got her two resource cards, which she used to purchase from the development deck, the stack containing attack cards. Rude Guy collected his cards silently, but didn’t play.

  On my second turn, I glanced down at my hand. I still had only the two cards I started with. I rolled. One die halted on the one, another two. Nothing for me, although Dustin got a card. This was ridiculous.

  Trying to keep my tone light, I turned to the other players. “Is the pity rule in effect?”

  The official rules provided for an alternate option where, if a player received no resource cards after five dice rolls, they chose one from the bank. It didn’t happen often, so I didn’t remember if the tournament allowed it. Gaining a free resource would at least allow me to draw from the development deck. Otherwise, I couldn’t take my turn at all.

  Rude Guy smirked at my question but didn’t answer.

  Kerry shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I had a rough game yesterday, so I asked.”

  My heart sank, but I tried not to let my disappointment show on my face. With nothing else to do, I took a stab in the dark. “Is anyone willing to trade brick for ore?”

  Kerry said, “Sorry, I don’t have brick.”

  Dustin shook his head, and Rude Guy studied his cards like they contained the secret to the meaning of life. He didn’t acknowledge my question, even when I repeated it.

  I handed the dice to Dustin and leaned back, trying not to seem bothered. After all, as soon as anyone rolled a six, f
ive, or or ten, I’d start getting resource cards. With two dice, statistically, those numbers should come up often.

  The game continued. Every time the dice hit the table, I leaned forward in expectation. But roll after roll yielded cards for the other players, or no one at all. By the time I received my first new resource card, Kerry already had six points. Trading was not my problem in this game—before a person could trade cards, they needed to have cards. The dice had turned on me. Never had I played a game where everything went this badly.

  About twenty minutes into the game, panic seized me. Based on the current rankings, I needed to place at least third to move on. I sat in a distant fourth place. It would take a miracle to win this thing. Even coming in third was by no means guaranteed.

  Silently, I cursed myself. If I had simply played the last game as usual instead of going after Don, I might have the extra point I needed. But no, my dislike for the guy got the better of me. From the other table, the jerk smirked at me. He knew this game was going badly, and he thought I deserved it.

  Maybe I did. Scorched earth gaming was a dick move. But I’d been so confident in my ability to at least come in third during the last game, I didn’t stop to think. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d lost this badly. It wasn’t even worth it. We didn’t eliminate Don—we just made him mad. A first place win could still ensure him a spot in the finals. Judging from the look on his face, he knew it—and was very close to getting there.

  With a sigh, I returned my attention to my game. “Will anyone trade me sheep?”

  Dustin shook his head, with a glance at Don’s table so quick I might have imagined it. I’d forgotten those two were friends. When Rude Guy didn’t answer, Kerry spoke up. “Sure. I can give you sheep for ore.”