She's Got Game Page 2

  That lost game cost me, unfortunately. When I finished my last match of the day, I found myself in second place. C. McKay’s name mocked me from the top of the leaderboard. Of course.

  Although seeing it made me want to stomp my feet like a child, the stats didn’t leave me terribly surprised. After all, he was the reigning champ. I’d lost the third game pretty badly. It didn’t matter; I had plenty of time to catch up tomorrow. I couldn’t do anything about the rankings now. Players still sat at a few tables, but they played various expansions, which meant these games came from their personal collections. The tournament had ended for the day.

  Time to find Holly and get out of here.

  Outside, the sun still shone over the horizon, a warm contrast to the stark lights of the windowless conference room. Holly texted our other former roommate, Shannon, to let her know we’d finished. Although she worked for a children’s board game manufacturer, she designed all types of games. She’d spent half the day holed up in a coffee shop nearby working on her latest side project until we were free.

  Shannon loved Explorers of Islay as much as Holly and I, but she also was helping her grandmother recover from a hip replacement surgery. They had help, but she wasn’t comfortable spending entire weekends in windowless conference rooms with no Wi-Fi and poor reception, in case Nana needed something. Especially since all but the first round of the competition took place out of state.

  The reply to Holly’s text came after about eleven seconds. Of course, I want to have a drink, I’m waiting at the hotel bar. Did you two conquer the competition yet?

  With a smile, I thumbed my response. It’s only the first day. I’m in second place. Holly’s in fifth. Be there in a few.

  When we arrived, we found Shannon in a booth near the back, sipping what had to be her usual rum and Coke. A chilled glass of white wine and a cold beer waited on the table. Holly sat beside Shannon, taking possession of the wine. I slid in to the other side of the booth, smiling because they’d left me the spot against the back wall, where I could scope out the room.

  Holly had been in a relationship practically since kindergarten. The only thing that interested Shannon less than dating was hooking up with strangers, so I appreciated their consideration. Plenty of non-gamers should also be in this bar.

  The three of us made an interesting trio. Holly had medium-blonde hair, hazel eyes, average height, naturally tanned skin, and an average build. Meanwhile, Shannon and I filled out the opposite ends of the spectrum - her pale with short, cool black hair, blue eyes, close to six feet tall, and curves I’d have killed for in high school. In contrast, I was short and too thin, with long red hair pulled back most of the time, brown eyes, and freckles. I burned if I even thought about going outside without sunblock, no matter what the time of year. Shannon wore glasses, Holly used contacts, I had perfect vision. Shannon dressed mostly in vintage dresses and heels, Holly looked like she belonged in a J. Crew catalog, and I wore much more casual/comfortable clothes.

  At least we never fought over dates. Boob men flocked to Shannon, who largely ignored them. People who appreciated a perky butt flirted with me instead. The large, sparkling ring on Holly’s left hand kept guys away so effectively, Shannon had joked about buying one of her own to avoid unwanted attention.

  “Let us know if you see anyone you like,” Shannon said after I greeted her. “We’re fully prepared to play wing women.”

  At her comment, a certain brown-eyed guy popped into my head. I shook the image away. Maybe a hookup would help me ease some of the tension from the day, but I couldn’t. Not tonight. “Thanks, but the only person I’ll be hanging out with after I leave here is my father. I haven’t seen him in weeks.”

  “How is Daddy McHotCakes?” Holly winked at me. Ever since she met my dad, she joked about ditching her boyfriend for him. In my opinion, Lucas was kind of a wet towel, so I’d be fine with her dumping him. Not to date my dad, though. Ew.

  “Still working too hard. Still claiming he isn’t. Still not taking care of himself,” I said. “I was hoping once I graduated and moved out, he’d ease up a little. Maybe go on a date or something. But no dice.”

  “Have you tried fixing him up?” Shannon asked.

  “Who do I know that would date my dad?” The two of them exchanged a look, then grinned at me. “Besides Holly. Shut up.”

  My friend’s eyes danced. “He’s not old, you know. Younger than George Clooney, and I’d totally do him.”

  “Don’t be gross,” I said. “Where’s Lucas? Does he know you talk about other guys this way?”

  “He’s working late. Again.” Holly’s gaze dropped to her napkin. “I can talk however I want if I’m never going to see him.”

  “I’m sorry, Hol.” I might not think Lucas was right for her, but we maintained an implicit agreement not to talk about it.

  Instead of making her feel worse, I launched into the story of my day for Shannon’s benefit, starting with how extremely attractive the primary competition was and ending with how I wound up second overall. Evil dice screwed Holly over during her final game, so her spot in fifth place made her happy. She could recover tomorrow.

  By the time I finished the story and my beer, I felt great about the upcoming elimination round. I’d play C. McKay and win, before going on to the quarterfinals and wiping the floor with him there, too. A four-time champion didn’t scare me. I owned this game (literally and figuratively).

  Holly enjoyed the game, but didn’t share my intense competitive streak. She wasn’t nearly as concerned with winning. Still, my friends swore up and down that this guy couldn’t possibly be any match for me, despite his titles. Had I been able to afford the championships before this year, of course I’d have won. Good friends.

  “You two are the absolute best,” I said. “But enough about me. Holly, how’s the business going?”

  She’d been half looking at her phone ever since we brought up her fiancé, but she perked up at my question. “Excellent! I was skeptical at first, but it turns out, a lot of people are investing. Lucas is handling the money while I finish building our website. We should be up and running soon.”

  “Awesome.”

  Holly spent a lot of time using her tech savvy to help her friends. On top of making the registration database for the competition, she set up my blog and was designing the Kickstarter for Shannon’s new tabletop board game.

  I turned to my other friend. “What about you?”

  “Slow but steady. I’m starting to get backers, which is great, but I’m worried about some kinks. It’s taking longer to work out the details than expected. I’ve been spending a lot of time helping Nana, which makes it tough.” She sighed. “And then I feel like a bad granddaughter for complaining.”

  “You’re not a bad granddaughter,” I said. “You’ve been taking care of her for years. The entire burden fell on you, and it’s a rough gig. It’s not like it would kill your brother to help out.”

  “If you were a bad granddaughter, you’d have shoved her into a nursing home, turned her building into condos, and sold her half years ago,” Holly piped in.

  Shannon smiled weakly. “Thanks. She’ll be back to her old self soon enough, as long as she doesn’t fall again. But I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s get dessert. I spent like twenty minutes online drooling over the menu for this place before you guys texted.”

  The three of us usually shared two desserts, so the calories cancelled. It didn’t take long to make a decision. The peanut butter cake was an automatic no, since I wasn’t up for anaphylactic shock. My allergy was sensitive enough that no one else at the table could eat it, either. Which left us one apple crisp and a caramel-filled chocolate lava cake to share. Perfect.

  Since there wasn’t a waitress in sight, I went to the bar to order. It only took a minute for them to heat everything up. Grabbing a handful of napkins and forks off the counter and sc
ooping up the plates, I turned to take my booty back to the table.

  My head collided with something. My eyes watered as my jaw clicked together hard at the impact. One of the plates clattered to the ground, and my foot slipped. I didn’t want to think about whether I was standing in cinnamony-apple goodness or the caramel filling I’d been thinking about throughout the day. It was all I could do to stay upright.

  Strong arms came around me for support. The remaining plate in my hand tilted. I tried to steady it, but my feet slipped again, and staying on my feet was way more important than saving the cake. Maybe.

  When I finally caught my balance, I stepped carefully over the mess, eyes glued to the floor watching for glass and other potential land mines. It was the apple crisp, darn it. To my unknown savior, I said, “Thanksfor catching me.”

  “No problem, Gwen.”

  At the sound of my name, my head shot up. My eyes snapped open and landed on the face of my rescuer. Well, the person who ran into me, then rescued me.

  C. McKay. Still hot and well-muscled, and me with chocolate sauce running down my chest and…Oh, no. Remnants of smashed caramel-chocolate cake dripped from his crotch.

  Chapter 2

  The stain on C. McKay’s pants spread before my horrified eyes. My immediate instinct was to use the napkins in my other hand to blot it, but… I couldn’t. All I could do was stare, one hand over my open mouth.

  From the corner, Shannon saw what happened and came to my rescue. “I’m so sorry. Excuse us. We’ll be right back.”

  She whisked me away to the restroom, where I splashed cold water on my face until I could breathe again. Apple crisp streaked my t-shirt. I dabbed futilely at the mess, moaning.

  “It’s not that bad. The whole thing was entirely his fault. I’m sure he’s as embarrassed as you.”

  At that, I found my words. “It is that bad! Do you know who he is?”

  She shook her head.

  “That’s C. McKay!”

  Her eyes widened. We’d all been talking about this competition for months. We played countless games in preparation. We’d even bought the travel version to play in the waiting room when Nana went to the hospital during spring break our second year. “Not the C. McKay?”

  “One and the same.”

  “And they said gamers are all pale and scrawny.”

  I glared at her. “Focus.”

  “Sorry. Look, it’s no big deal,” she said. “He walked into you. You slipped. It was completely his fault. If he hadn’t been standing so close, we’d all be enjoying dessert right now.”

  “I got chocolate lava cake on his pants. It looks like he pooped himself on the front, and that’s not even possible.” Dabbing at my t-shirt only smeared the mess, so I gave up and scrubbed a spot of fudge on my upper arm. “I’m not going back out there. Tell him I died of embarrassment.”

  “You don’t think he’ll notice you’re alive when you show up tomorrow?”

  “Maybe his shock will help me win.”

  Instead of addressing such a ridiculous suggestion, she dug around in her giant purse and pulled out a green V-neck cardigan that matched her dress. With Boston’s ever-changing weather, it was always best to be prepared. “Here, put this on.”

  The fabric hung halfway to my knees, but at least it didn’t have a giant smear on the left boob. Quickly, I buttoned up the sweater, re-braided my hair, and steeled myself for confrontation. The whole way to the table, I prayed Cody had left.

  No such luck. When I came out of the bathroom, he stood near the bar in noticeably cleaner pants, flirting with not one, but three girls. Whatever. I squished a twinge of jealousy. It made no difference to me who he flirted with. He could date a hundred girls for all I cared.

  Our eyes met, and I ignored the fluttering in my stomach. Cody said something to the girls. One of them waved her phone as if to say, “Text me” before he walked over to my table.

  “Don’t let me cock block you,” I said. “I’ll see you tomorrow if you want to talk to them.”

  “It’s nice to see you again, too,” he said, ignoring my comment. He must’ve also gone into the bathroom, because while his pants were wet, most of the food bits were gone.

  Then I realized I was staring at his crotch for the second time in less than fifteen minutes, and I coughed to cover my embarrassment. “Sorry about that. Really.”

  “No problem. I asked the waitress to bring over a couple more plates. Didn’t want to risk another disaster.”

  “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “No, I did. The whole thing was my fault. Even though, really, I believe the loser is supposed to buy for the winner.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “It’s only Day 1. Cool your engines.”

  Shannon slid back into the booth, and I moved into the opposite side. She cleared her throat, tilting her head to indicate I should scoot further in to make room for Cody. I ignored her. She turned and asked, “How do you two know each other?” as if she didn’t already know the answer.

  Quickly, I introduced them.

  “So you’re in first place?” Shannon asked.

  “Only for the moment,” I said, just as he said, “That’s me.”

  She ignored my comment. “Wonderful! Gwen and Holly were just about to tell me about the competition.”

  Sitting down beside Shannon, Holly said, “Why don’t you join us?”

  If looks could kill, my best friends would’ve keeled over on the spot. Sure, good battle strategy involves getting to know your enemy, but I didn’t want to know Cody better. Even if he somehow managed to be hot and charming while wearing chocolate cake.

  His phone buzzed, and he glanced at it briefly. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask if it was one of the girls from the bar, texting already.

  For a second, I thought he’d tell us he had to go. Instead, he tapped out a quick message. “Thanks, I’d love to. I was meeting Tyler, but he’s staying late to clean up.”

  Not knowing what else to do, I scooted deeper into the booth. Cody’s leg brushed mine as he sat, sending tingles shooting up my leg. Oh, no. I couldn’t be attracted to this guy. My reaction to him suggested I had been alone too long. No gamer had this effect on me in years. A lot of people hooked up at these events, which was cool, but I’d learned my lesson. My libido apparently hadn’t read the memo that Cody was off-limits. And apparently quite the player–even as he sat, his phone continued to buzz in his pocket.

  Maybe Dad would understand if I got home a little later than usual. Someone in this hotel must be using my dating app. Someone not part of the contest. Someone totally opposite C. McKay: a long-haired, dark-skinned Latino who hated gaming, perhaps.

  Tempting, but Dad waited at home, and we hadn’t seen each other in weeks. No, I’d get through a drink, just long enough to reinforce that Cody is not for me. Then I could make my excuses and leave.

  To remove the heat of his leg against mine I retreated into the far corner, moving my bag between us like a buffer. The server came back, and we ordered another round of drinks.

  Holly’s phone beeped on the table with a text, then another. A third. Cody pulled his own device out to check his messages while Holly’s phone beeped yet again. Shannon and I exchanged a glance. Only one person would send her that many messages in a row without waiting for a reply. The look on her face said, I hope he doesn’t want to join us.

  With my eyes, I said, “If so, I’m going to fake food poisoning.”

  The joy of having friends who know you inside and out is, sometimes they get what you want to say without you having to actually open your mouth. Luckily, Holly was engrossed in her phone and didn’t notice our exchange.

  Her phone beeped again, this time with a request for a video chat. She sighed and started tapping on the screen. “Sorry, guys. It’s Lucas. I guess he forgot about the competition. He’s
home from work early, and he’s pissed. I have to go.”

  “Or, here’s a thought: you could stay,” I said. “We had plans, and you told him about them months ago.”

  “No, I really can’t. If I leave now, I can get home before he goes to bed.”

  “Do you need a ride?” Shannon asked.

  “It’s way out of your way,” Holly protested. Her phone rang again, and her face turned red. “But, yeah, maybe. The T will take forever. So sorry. Gwen, I’ll see you tomorrow. Also, you need a bridesmaid’s dress. We have to make a plan.”

  I resisted the urge to shrug, not caring in the slightest what I wound up wearing to watch her make a huge mistake. “I’ll text you my schedule tomorrow.”

  Shannon turned to me. “Do you want to come, too?”

  Part of me did. Staying here alone with C. McKay seemed awkward, all things considered. But at the same time, I wanted my dessert. I wanted to finish my beer, and I didn’t want to listen to Holly on the phone in the car, apologizing to Lucas for his forgetfulness. Especially since he was still calling her. “Thanks, but no.”

  Each threw cash on the table before they vanished. Gone before our fresh desserts even made it to the table. Oh, well. More for me.

  “That was…interesting,” he said. “I hope I don’t smell.”

  “No, that’s just Holly’s boyfriend; he’s a dick, she’s at his beck and call. Sorry he ruined our foursome.”

  “No problem. But if I move to the other side of the booth, will you run away, too?”

  “To be honest, I’m considering it. Nothing personal.”

  “How could I not take it personally? Is it my deodorant?”

  I leaned over, inhaling deeply as if really considering the question. “No, you smell like…” The word heaven was on the top of my tongue, but I quashed it. “…kinda smoky, with a bit of lavender. Hotel body wash?”