For The One (Gaming The System Book 5)

by Brenna Aubrey

  As it was our second time, it took William longer to get where he had already taken me in minutes. Therefore, I began to climb that mountain with him again, feeling remarkably spoiled. I ran my hands down his hard chest, smoothing over his nipples, sliding to his back, clasping my legs around him when I needed him to slow down.

  But he was having none of that. He pushed through my hold, gently pulling my legs away from his hips, his breath bathing my neck with ragged puffs. I came again just as he pushed in deep and let loose a hoarse moan, my name on his lips.

  He surged inside me and, despite his earlier protest, I clamped my legs around him again, pulling him tight against me. He released his breath, resting his sweaty forehead to mine. He careful smoothed back of my hair.

  And then…“I love you,” he whispered.

  Tears sprang to my eyes. Those words I’d never thought I’d hear again brought such joy rushing into my heart that it ached. Soon those tears were streaming down my temples as he rolled to the side, watching me carefully.

  “Oh no,” he breathed, wiping them away with his hand. “Why are you sad?”

  I shook my head and sniffed. “Not sad, Wil. Happy. Very, very happy.”

  He frowned. Tears of happiness obviously confused him, but I didn’t want to explain so I kissed him to stave off the inevitable questions.

  Eventually, we drifted off to sleep. The last thing I said to him was that he needed his rest so he’d be ready to kick ass in the morning. And we slept peacefully, wrapped in each other’s arms all night, too exhausted to even move.

  When I woke up, bright early morning light slanted into the tent, and William was gone. I felt for him first, before even wading through the layers of sleep. When I came up empty, I contemplated how natural it had been for me to reach for him. Like I’d been doing it every morning for months.

  And that weird echoing ache when I found him gone—that wasn’t lost on me, either. It was scary and thrilling at the same time. I rolled over and buried my face in his pillow, inhaling his scent.

  For the first time since I was a teen—a child, really—I’d told a man that I loved him. And I’d meant it. I swallowed in a thickening throat, suddenly terrified of the ramifications of that admission. I was changing my plans to be with William, but it wasn’t just about being with him.

  I was starting a future, setting down roots. Trusting myself to find happiness again instead of running away from the possibility of it.

  I hurriedly got dressed and wove between tents toward the campsite I was supposed to be sharing with the girls. I tried not to focus on the possibility of clan members seeing me in the same dress I’d worn last night, only minimally laced to avoid indecent exposure.

  It was my own medieval reenactment of the infamous walk of shame. But I didn’t give a crap who saw me. I was too buzzed by this high. What a night…

  The girls practically pounced when I got back. “Ohhh, hmm, well look at that. Her Majesty has just-fucked hair. Her royal dress is rumpled and looks like it’s falling off, doesn’t it? Ann, what do you think Queen Jenna was doing last night?” Fiona, Caitlyn’s BFF said.

  I rolled my eyes and dug into my duffel bag to pull out some proper twenty-first century clothing. “The Queen does not have to be accountable for her actions,” I sniffed haughtily.

  Caitlyn twisted a strand of honey-colored hair around her index finger and studied me. “Girl, I spent a long time on your hair and makeup yesterday. You better spill what’s going on with you and Sir Hottie MacFine.”

  I smiled. “Or else…?”

  “Or else I’m going to take your crown, which I picked up off the ground last night when you went running after William, and I’ll give it to Doug. I’ll tell him you told me to give it to him as a favor.”

  I raise my brow at her. “I know Roma curses, you know. I can make your toenails ache.”

  She plopped onto my sleeping bag and lay back, folding her arms under her head. “Spill.”

  “I don’t kiss and tell.”

  “Do you fuck and tell?” said Fiona.

  I rolled my eyes. “Goddess, you are all so crude.”

  A Cheshire-style grin spread across Caitlyn’s face. “Oh, I’m sorry. Should she have asked if you make love and tell?”

  My face flamed instantly, and they both shrieked and clapped their hands. Caitlyn sat up. “You did! Jeez, Jenna. People are going to hate you—and by people, I mean me. Do you know how many have been trying to crack that nut over the last two years?”

  I raised my brow. “Interesting choice of imagery.”

  “He’s totally going to win your duel for you because you put out,” she retorted.

  If those words had come from anyone but Caitlyn or Ann, they would have pissed me off. But as I knew they were completely joking and meant nothing untoward, I merely stuck my tongue out at her.

  “The duel’s in an hour. Are you going to give him your, um, best wishes beforehand?” She added air quotes, just to be extra obnoxious. “And what about a lady’s favor? Do you have a scarf or a ribbon or something?”

  I hesitated as I was changing from my gown to my regular clothes. “That’s actually a good idea, to give him a favor.”

  “Just give him your panties,” Fiona said, snickering.

  “He already got into those last night,” Caitlyn cracked.

  “Ladies!” I reprimanded as I pulled a brush through my knotted hair, scanning the small tent for something to give him. A hair ribbon? A handkerchief?

  “Have you ever deflowered a virgin before?” Caitlyn asked.

  “What makes you think William was a virgin?” I evaded.

  Brock had been a virgin, too, so William had not been my first. But I’d been a virgin right along with Brock, as our first time together was our first time ever. It had taken place more than a decade ago, so I only remembered a lot of awkwardness and that it had been disappointing. Last night with William had been pretty darn good, actually. He may have been a virgin, but there was no doubt he’d done his research.

  “What about a ribbon from the Maypole?” Ann said, pointing to the red one on the floor by my sleeping bag as I pulled on my jeans.

  “Oh yes, I’ll take him that.”

  “You don’t think he’ll want to ask you for it in front of everyone—like what Doug did last time?” Ann asked.

  I shook my head, adjusting my clothes. “Nope. That’s not Wil.” I smiled at the thought.

  “Well, off with you, then. Go wish your man luck!” Ann said.

  I found him in a clearing at the edge of our encampment. He was warming up in his under armor padding—gambeson, it’s called. He continued to stretch his muscles and practice his swings even when I was pretty certain he’d seen me arrive. I assumed that this was all part of some routine that he’d established for warm-up, and he wasn’t about to interrupt that routine—not even for me. I was okay with that.

  I patiently watched him work, and about ten minutes later he stopped and unscrewed a bottle of water to take a long drink. I walked up to him then. “Hi.”

  His eyes flew to mine and then away. “Good morning,” he said with a small smile that made my heart zing just a little bit. Seeing him again after last night and all that had happened between us was thrilling. Like I couldn’t get enough air fast enough. I bit my lip, hoping he felt the same.

  But it was highly unlikely that anything could have changed from the night before. So he likely did feel the same. He was constant, permanent. He’d told me last night that he loved me and my guess was that he probably didn’t see the need to repeat it. I’d have to clue him in that I liked to hear it anyway, whether or not he thought it worth repeating.

  I smiled and took his free hand, twirling the red ribbon in my other hand. “Do you know what this is?” I said without preamble.

  His eyes narrowed, taking it in. He removed the bottle from his mouth and squeezed my hand. Then he freed it in order to replace the cap. “It’s a ribbon from the Maypole,” he answered.
/>   “Nope. Not today.”

  He frowned, clearly confused. “It is a Maypole ribbon every day.”

  “Today it’s much more than that. It’s my favor. And I choose to bestow it upon the worthiest knight I know.”

  His gaze floated to the ribbon again, and his expression was so serious that I almost laughed. Without another word, he took up his sword and presented it to me, hilt first. Just as solemnly, I tied the ribbon around the grip, just below the cross-guard. He took the sword back and adjusted the ribbon. Then he hefted the sword to try it out.

  He murmured in an almost reverential voice, “Thank you.”

  “Kicking his ass will be all the thanks I need,” I said, grinning.

  “There’s no kicking at these tournaments. It’s difficult to kick someone while wearing plated greaves.”

  I laughed. “I meant it figuratively. You’ll be thanking me by winning soundly.”

  His brow trembled. “But if I lose—”

  “You won’t. Now come here and give me a kiss before I leave you to get all suited up.”

  I didn’t have to tell him twice. He set down both the sword and the water bottle and then put his hands on my waist to pull me against him. Our mouths met in a long, passionate kiss, and a group of our closest friends found us right in the middle of that steamy kiss, where I’d locked my arms around him to keep his lips on mine.

  To his credit, William kept kissing me even though they stood there, and even after someone cleared their throat loudly. We finally pulled apart when a wolf whistle interrupted us. I looked up and there were our friends all around us.

  “Who could say ‘no’ to a good luck kiss like that?” Jordan said with a cocky grin. William did not look amused and Jordan clued into his obvious annoyance. “If it hadn’t been for my advice—”

  “Your advice is shit,” both William and Adam said at almost the exact same time. April immediately doubled over laughing while Jordan’s smile slid right off his face.

  Eyes gradually turned toward me and Mia asked a question with her eyes. I studiously avoided her gaze. Alex handed me a cup of coffee in an insulated cup and I thanked her.

  Then we all turned to look at the man of the hour.

  And if all went well in the next little while, the man of the day, of the week. Of my future…

  Chapter 32

  William

  So it all comes down to this.

  Months of training, to include fitness activities and specialized exercises to build stamina. Refining my fighting style and customizing my armor. Weeks of working with Jenna—not that I minded that in any way.

  But for all my pre-fighting focus, I’m upset that she came to watch me warm up. Because now all I can think of is her, and all I want to do is look at her. Our friends are all around us now, wishing me luck. My mind is distracted from the fight, and that’s bothering me.

  My cousin stands at my shoulder and puts a hand there. I turn to him as he speaks. “Hey, guy. You okay? You’re looking…intense.”

  I look around again, trying to keep my eyes away from Jenna, though they are pulled to her bright blonde head like a magnet. “This isn’t how I normally warm up, with all these people around.”

  He nods. “Right. I’ll see if I can clear them out for you,” he says quietly.

  A few minutes afterward, he suggests that they all go claim a section in the bleachers and save seats for the others who are coming to support me, including my dad and Kim. Jenna goes with them, but not before giving me another kiss on the cheek. “I’d say good luck, but you don’t need luck. You’ve got this.”

  I smile and watch her as she goes, not realizing that Adam and Mia have lingered behind. Mia steps forward and gives me a hug. “Just wanted to get mine in real quick. I’ll leave Adam to help you warm up.” Adam has offered to be my squire today, and I’ve accepted that offer.

  “Okay. Thank you.” I briefly return her hug. As she turns to go, I say to Adam, loudly, so that she’ll hear, “Adam, you can tell Mia later what date you’ve decided on for your wedding.”

  Mia comes to an abrupt halt and spins around to look at me. Her mouth and eyes are round. Adam’s dark eyebrows scoot up his forehead. “That’s, uh, great news,” he says, and then one of his sly grins creeps across his face. He and Mia exchange a look, but I have no clue as to its meaning.

  “I love winning,” he mutters. Mia’s eyes roll up toward the sky and she lets out a big sigh. Then she turns around and stomps away while Adam watches her, laughing loudly.

  I’m smiling when Adam looks at me. “I’m the one who won, dickhead. You’re just benefitting.”

  Adam’s eyes narrow and he grabs one of my spare swords. “I’m here to help you warm up. Don’t make me use this for real.”

  I bring my sword up to meet his, Jenna’s red ribbon fluttering in the breeze below the cross guard. “Just don’t be an idiot and waste this chance,” I tell him. “You need to marry her as soon as possible.”

  Adam gets that sneaky look on his face again. “So you sacrificed for the greater good?”

  I swing and our swords clash against each other. The morning sun glints off his blade. “It wasn’t a sacrifice.”

  Another swing, another crash. “I was being sarcastic.”

  “All wasted on me.” I bring my sword around in a series of moves meant to throw him off his guard.

  “Easy, tiger,” he says after the onslaught. “I don’t have armor on.”

  “I’m not going to hurt your pretty face. You still need to look good for wedding pictures.”

  He laughed. “It’s important to you that we get married, huh?”

  “You almost lost each other once. That should not happen again. So don’t squander the opportunity.”

  “But you said deciding our wedding date on a bet was dumb.”

  “It is dumb, but you might as well take advantage of it since you won.”

  We continue to warm up without saying anything further about the wedding. Twenty minutes later, he begins helping me strap on my full suit of plate mail, draping my black and silver tabard over the breastplate. Then he carries my swords, shield and buckler to the arena.

  When we get there, the bleachers are full, not only with people from our clan but from other clans who are attending the Summer Festival. There are also those who’ve come ahead of time with the Renaissance Faire, which starts up as soon as the Beltane Festival is over. In addition, there are many dressed in modern clothes, indicating they are here as visitors, some of which are in my “cheering section.”

  The minute I see the crowd, my heartbeat starts to race, my blood chilling in my veins. My mind starts to go down that same thorny path that it always travels in situations like these.

  I try one of Jenna’s Jedi mind tricks—a little controlled breathing. But the breathing is only making it hotter inside my helmet, even with the visor up. The crowd is yelling and cheering and stomping, and Doug is over there encouraging them by raising his sword in the air and walking back and forth in front of them.

  He stops in front of Jenna, who is sitting in the front row, and I freeze. He’s obviously trying to get her attention, but she folds her arms and looks away.

  Taking a deep breath, I’m suddenly regretful that she didn’t accept the deal he offered her last night. It would be a certainty that she’d get her tiara back, had she accepted.

  And I’m not certain about this. Not at all. I know my skills are on par with his. I know that I’m in the best physical shape of my life. I also know that I’m capable of defeating him in perfect circumstances.

  But I’m not certain.

  The referee waves a triangular yellow flag mounted on a short, striped pole as he calls for the first bout to begin. Our squires begin handing us our equipment, and then Adam places a hand on my metal-encased shoulder. Looking at me through the grill of my helmet, he says solemnly, “Good luck, Liam.”

  I nod to acknowledge his words with a thumbs-up, and then I turn away to face Doug. With na
rrowed eyes, he says, “This time I beat you cleanly. You’re a goner, Drake, you hear me?”

  “I do hear you. But you’re wrong. You’ve already lost the girl, and now you’re going to lose the duel.”

  His face flushes a deep red and then he slams the visor down, muttering to himself. I know there are probably obscenities peppered amongst his rant, but he can’t say them too loudly. If the referee hears him, Doug could be penalized for unchivalrous language.

  I don’t want him to, though. He’s done so much to hurt Jenna that I really want to hurt him. I want to beat him down, and I’m going to do it under the watchful eyes of the tournament judges. No losing or winning on technicalities…not today.

  Our first bout is long swords only, which we both wield two-handed. As is customary with European martial arts, we both hold our swords high, two hands gripping at the hilt in order to chop downward. We must hit with what would be the sharp edge of the blade—the side closest to the opponent—in order to score a hit. Each bout is played until one contestant gets three hits.

  In our previous duel, I won this particular bout. But this time, the minute the yellow flag is lifted, Doug comes charging at me like a ferocious bull. I bring my sword down just in time to block his first onslaught.

  The crowd is loud and distracting, and I can’t help but look over at them. I decide to go on the offensive, knowing in the back of my mind that it’s too early. I know Doug’s fighting style well enough to know that he’s long on aggressive tactics in small bursts, but short on stamina. Last time I just tired him out that first bout, blocking his onslaughts and letting him come at me until he got winded. My plan was to do the same thing this round, but I can’t curb these anxious feelings for long.

  I continue glancing at the crowd, trying to catch a glimpse of Jenna. She’s leaning forward intently, her hand tightly gripping the railing in front of her. And that’s when Doug charges and clips me on my upper arm pauldron with the outside edge of his blade.

  The flag comes down between us. The ref watching for hits raises his hand and points to Doug, indicating that the first touch has gone to him.