She's Got Game Read online

  The tip of my tongue darted out, moistening my lips. His pupils dilated. Our legs still pressed together under the table. I became very aware of every cell on my body touching his.

  “Are you going to take your turn sometime today?” Holly’s voice broke the spell, bringing me back into the moment.

  Crap. Maybe two shouldn’t play this game. I was in over my head. Flirting was one thing, but I couldn’t let this weird fascination with Cody interfere with the game. If this distraction continued, Holly would barely be speaking to me after the tournament. I mumbled an apology and placed my pieces quickly, taking my resource cards and lifting them to cover my embarrassment.

  Either he didn’t feel the same things he sparked in me, or he didn’t want to piss Holly off more, because Cody didn’t hesitate in taking his next turn, and the game moved on. When all the pieces were in place, Tom rolled the dice, playing his cards without speaking. Holly followed suit. Cody rolled, keeping his eyes on the board and his cards.

  “Can anyone trade me brick for wood?”

  I studied my cards. I had what he wanted, and what he was offering would help my turn. But at some point, this thing between us turned into a grudge match. Maybe it was the crack about not having a redheaded groupie. Maybe it was the way his knee still touched mine. But I wanted to take Cody down, and refused to give him any advantage. “Sorry. I don’t trade.”

  His mouth fell open. “You…what?”

  “I don’t trade.” Across the table, Holly snorted quietly. I couldn’t look at her. We’d played this game together hundreds of times, and never before had I declared an aversion to sharing my cards. She’d also been part of the infamous incident with Dad two years ago.

  As he continued to gape at me, I met his gaze firmly, daring him to argue. “Play your hand or go home.”

  Cody leaned back in his chair, eyes never leaving mine. He crossed his arms, the picture of indifference. But his eyes dropped to my chest for a millisecond, reminding me of the way I’d pressed against his arm at the beginning of the game. Exactly the wrong thing to do if he hoped to get me to give in. This was one battle chemistry couldn’t win. Especially when I hated being so attracted to him.

  “How do you get resources without trading?” Cody asked. “It’s a key part of the game.”

  “Not today, it’s not.”

  “How do you ever win?” he persisted.

  “I guess you’ll find out.”

  “But I know you have brick.” He reeled off a list of the cards in my hand, making my insides curl. Holly’s eyes widened a bit in subtle admiration. Apparently, paying attention to other players’ cards was part of his strategy. I filed that tidbit away for later.

  At the moment, I stayed on the offensive. “What are you, counting cards now? Are we in Vegas?”

  “Not yet, but I will be for the final round,” he shot back. “It’s not cheating to pay attention. I watch the resources, I follow the play. And I know you’ve got brick, whether you’ll admit it or not. You don’t want my wood, just say so.”

  The look in his eyes suggested we both knew very well that part of me did want his wood, in a way that had nothing to do with the game. My cheeks grew warm, and I forced myself to look back at my cards, away from his Cheshire Cat grin. I also had brick to trade, but that wasn’t the point. I didn’t want him to have it. Even though I could have used some wood. In the game.

  “Whatever,” Holly said, shooting me a look. “I’ll trade.”

  She’d want to talk after the game. I didn’t have any idea what I’d say to her, other than misdirecting by asking her to talk about place settings and seating charts for her wedding—which meant pretending to like Lucas. Ugh.

  The game continued. Tom focused on playing, oblivious to the sexual tension. Holly saw the sparks flying, but said nothing except when our silent tug-of-war interfered with our turns.

  We’d been playing for about twenty minutes when someone tripped over the video equipment live streaming the game, sending it crashing to the ground. John called a halt to the action while they picked everything up and got back online. Our little tournament wasn’t exactly ESPN material, but YouTubers loved it. Heck, I’d already requested copies of some of the footage for my own channel. Cody put one hand on my elbow and leaned over. A bolt of lightning shot up my arm. This was getting ridiculous.

  I curbed the desire to lean away from him, assuming it would make him say whatever he wanted to say louder. His cologne had faded, leaving behind the sweet scent of his body wash combined with his natural musk. Now he smelled amazing. Jerk.

  “Hey,” he whispered. “I was hoping to get to talk to you before the game. I really enjoyed running into you last night.”

  “That feels like an overstatement. I smashed a lava cake into your pants.” The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them, and my face burned. The last thing I wanted to do was remind myself of his genitals when he sat so close to me, smelling so good.

  “Okay, maybe not that, but you’re easy to talk to. I don’t have a lot of friends in the area, and Tyler’s got plans this afternoon. Can I take you out to lunch when the tournament is over? We’ll rehash my victory?”

  Until he added the last sentence, I’d have felt a little bad about turning him down. After all, I knew a lot about being alone in a new place. But based on the way he looked at me, I suspected the type of ‘friend’ Cody wanted involved sharing a bed and then never speaking to me again. He could call someone else for that.

  Before answering, I pitched my voice to carry across the table. “Sorry. I’m eating with Holly later, so we can talk about how funny your reaction was when you lost.”

  To my friend’s credit, her face didn’t register an ounce of surprise at learning we had a lunch date. “Don’t worry about it. We’d love to have you join us. You too, Tom.”

  I froze. What was she doing? Her eyes gave nothing away. Maybe she wanted to throw us both off our game. It wasn’t really her normal style, but after all, we were here to win. All’s fair in love and board game tournaments (except literal cheating, of course).

  Tom accepted before I could disinvite them both. Not that it mattered, judging from the amusement dancing across Holly’s face. She probably would have insisted. For whatever reason, she seemed to like Cody.

  “Am I really invited? I don’t want to crash your fun,” Cody said.

  “Of course you are,” I said through gritted teeth. “The more the merrier.”

  He wouldn’t rattle me. I wasn’t some teenager, going all tongue-tied at the sight of a pretty face. At twenty-six, I’d hooked up with my fair share of men and women. It was natural when you moved around a lot, never staying in one place for more than a few days, to seek out casual encounters—but I carefully kept a separation between my gaming life and my sex life.

  Usually, my “no gamers” rule was easy to follow. But something about Cody threw me. It wasn’t just his good looks. I’d met plenty of hotties. The men tended to be great, for about half an hour. Women could go either way: extremely cocky or very eager to please. Cody hadn’t said anything to imply he might want more than a quickie, and I wasn’t about to set aside my rules to have a fling with someone who alternately infuriated and intrigued me. Whatever this thing growing between us meant, it needed to be quashed.

  “Actually, I forgot I promised to help my dad tonight,” I said. “Maybe next time.”

  Holly’s look suggested she didn’t buy my excuse, but she said nothing. When Cody left, we needed to have a long talk about respecting my boundaries. Like most people in happy relationships, Holly had made it her mission to find me someone years ago. She also knew why I avoided flings with gamers, especially co-competitors, and this guy had “one-night stand” written all over him. I bet his phone was filling up with texts as we sat here.

  “Sorry to miss you,” Cody said. “I know you want to toast my victory.”


  Ignoring him, I picked up my cards. The game paused after Tom’s turn, meaning Holly would go next. From what showed on the board, everyone had seven or eight points. One of my face-down cards hid an extra point from view; there was no way to tell what the other players had. The cards in front of me were enough to secure the win—as long as neither Holly nor Cody got to ten points first.

  I glanced at John. “Are we almost ready to go?”

  He nodded. “We’re back online in about thirty seconds.”

  “Great. Now I need to remember what I was doing,” Cody said.

  “You were about to lose,” I said.

  “Wrong.”

  “Right,” Holly said. “You’re both about to lose.”

  John gave us the thumbs-up to continue. Holly rolled the dice, revealing a five and a four. Cody and I each drew a resource card. She pulled five cards out of her hand, dropped them on the table, then placed a structure. “And…game!”

  A wave of disappointment hit me. We were all going to the next round, so it wasn’t a huge deal, but I’d been hoping to finish this weekend with a stronger showing—especially after meeting Mr. “I’m-so-charming-everything-comes-easy-to-me-I’m-going-to-coast-to-victory” McKay. If I couldn’t win, at least first place didn’t go to him.

  With total sincerity, I congratulated Holly. She was my friend, after all. Wanting to win didn’t mean I begrudged her the victory.

  John approached the table to confirm her point total. The rest of us flipped our cards to determine the remaining rankings. Tom had eight points, and one more turn than me and Cody, which put him in a solid fourth place. Cody and I each played the same number of turns. We each had eight points on the board.

  He laid down his cards. “I’d have built this on my next turn, giving me ten points.”

  Then I placed my hand on the table. “One point from building this turn.”

  “Good game,” Cody said. “Well-played.”

  “Not so fast.” I flipped one of the face down cards. “I’ve also got a victory point here. Ten total.”

  The competition chair leaned forward, examining the board for a moment before nodding. “It’s a tie for second place!”

  Me and Cody, neck and neck.

  * * * *

  “If you’re so bored, why don’t you call your friends?” Dad asked after dinner that night. “Or we could play a game or go for a walk or you could work on your blog. I’ve got some accounts to review before bed.”

  Dad volunteering to go over business paperwork on a Sunday night told me exactly how little he wanted to dive back into the dating scene. But it was time. “I’m not bored, I’m determined. When was the last time you went on a date?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Was it before I started grad school?”

  Silence. My heart broke for him. At the same time, I cursed my mother for taking this amazing guy and messing him up so thoroughly. None of this was Dad’s fault. He fell hard, and it took him years to get over her. No wonder he didn’t want to start another relationship, if it meant more eventual heartbreak.

  My expression softened. “Look, I’m not saying you need to fall in love and get married. There are plenty of sites with people who are looking to hook up. Wouldn’t it be nice to get laid?”

  “I’m going to pretend my daughter isn’t familiar with hookup sites and telling me to get laid.”

  “You’re the one who had sex at fifteen. I’m more than a decade older than you were when I was born. You think I don’t understand the birds and the bees? Did you forget the talk we had when I was eleven?”

  “I’ve done my best to repress it.”

  With a laugh, I planted my father in the chair in front of the computer and kissed his check. He wasn’t going to start this process on his own, so I navigated him to one of the sites and clicked “Join now.”

  “When was the last time you went on a date, Queen Guinevere? I’ll do this, as your loyal subject, but only if you create your own profile.”

  The speed with which I retreated to the kitchen would’ve impressed an Olympic sprinter. Dad’s laugh followed me as I rummaged in the back of the fridge for my hidden diet soda stash.

  Grabbing one for me and a beer for him, I returned to the living room to find him clicking through other profiles.

  “Your silence says everything about why I shouldn’t be doing this,” Dad said.

  “I don’t want an online dating profile because I don’t have a permanent location,” I said. “This isn’t the right time for me to look for a relationship. I’m on a couple of apps. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I feel stupid. Like some guy who can’t accept he’s past his prime.”

  “You’re forty-freaking-one. Not exactly ancient,” I said. “It’s not a big deal. Everyone’s dating online these days. Here, pull up some other profiles to get an idea of what to say.”

  The first profile we clicked brought up a guy dressed like one of the Village People. The second guy mentioned the Boston Red Sox about sixteen times in three paragraphs. Profile after profile, I found a dozen different ways Dad should not advertise himself online.

  With a sigh, I got up and started pacing. “Maybe looking at other profiles wasn’t the best idea. Or maybe we need a different site. These guys are so obnoxious, all we’re finding is examples of how to repel women.”

  “Look at this one,” he said. “Looking for a good time, wants someone to spoil, trustworthy, loyal…. he’s making himself sound like a German Shepherd.”

  “Take notes on what not to do. ‘Looking for a good time’ usually means he’s married. Trustworthy and loyal means he’s trying to convince women upfront, so he’s probably anything but. See also: married. What else does this guy say?” I leaned over Dad’s shoulder to get a better view of the screen. A gasp escaped me.

  Lucas’s face looked back at me from the screen. Holly’s Lucas.

  Chapter 4

  My heart pounded in my ears at the sight of my friend’s fiancé seeking another woman to spoil. I’d spoil him. Rage at Holly’s betrayal blinded me. I wanted to march straight to their apartment and punch him in the nose.

  Having never met Lucas, Dad misinterpreted the look on my face. “What, you think he’s cute? It’s not too late to make a profile for you, too.”

  Taking a step back from the computer, I shook my head. “I gotta go. Sorry.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  My phone was already out, fingers tapping an emergency text to Shannon. Although my instinct probably should’ve been to call Holly immediately, Shannon was much better at this sort of thing. My quick temper didn’t always lead me to the best decisions. Where I wanted to lash out first, ask questions later, she’d help me get enough information to bury the guy before we went to Holly.

  “Gwen?”

  “Sorry, Dad. That’s Lucas.”

  Realization dawned immediately. “You going to tell her?”

  As I nodded my phone beeped with a reply from Shannon. I’m at Holly’s, working on the Kickstarter. Can it wait?

  Nope. Make an excuse and meet me at your place. I responded while speaking to Dad. “I want to talk to Shannon first. Do you mind if I bail? We can finish this later.”

  “We don’t have to finish this,” he said. “If you’re leaving, I’m going to work for a couple of hours. Text me when you’re on your way home, and I’ll meet you at the T.”

  “I’m not a little girl anymore. I traipse all over the country by myself every week.”

  “I know. And I also know you like your humble servant to buy you ice cream sometimes. There’s a new place on the way home. Text me.”

  Twenty minutes later, I sat on Shannon’s couch, sharing my phone. The two of us glared at Lucas’s profile. Every few minutes, she swore and poked the screen, but neither of us had figured out what to s
ay to Holly. The problem was, neither of us were terribly surprised. Appalled, yes. We couldn’t stand Lucas and never understood what our friend saw in him. Holly was so different when he was around. He’d criticize her food choices, “subtly” suggest she change or put on makeup before they went out to look more “polished,” and refused to fly to California with her for her father’s wedding because he “didn’t like the sun.” Jerk.

  Last year, Shannon spotted him at a Red Sox game talking to another girl, but Holly swore up and down he’d been at work. She insisted Shannon made a mistake through the crowds. Considering how many nights he claimed to be working late, we’d both long suspected he was cheating. Unfortunately, since we couldn’t get close to him at the game, we’d had no proof. The online profile gave us proof, but we also had an accomplished liar on our hands.

  “He’s going to say it’s not his profile,” she said. “Someone stole his picture. Or maybe it’s old, and he forgot to delete it.”

  “How old? They’ve been dating basically since the internet was invented.”

  “Touché. Stolen picture?”

  “Agreed. And she’ll believe him because she loves him.”

  She sighed heavily. “See? This is why I don’t date.”

  I rolled my eyes at her. Shannon identified as demisexual, which is on the asexual spectrum. That was why she rarely dated. “Right. It has nothing to do with not feeling sexual attraction for strangers.”

  With an exasperated sound, Shannon grabbed the phone out of my hand and started tapping.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m setting up an account. We’re going to message Lucas so we have something to show Holly.”

  A smile spread across my face. After spending all day looking at profiles, I had a good idea what to say to get Lucas’s attention. No strings attached…discreet… “Give me that.”

  It didn’t take long to set up a profile. Obviously, he wouldn’t respond if we used a picture of either of us, so I googled “hot blonde with big boobs,” and stole an image from a porn site. Hot Blonde probably wouldn’t mind. Minutes later “HotBlonde69” sent a message to “LuckyLucas.”