“Hey, Evie, are you going to tell—” Erin halts. Mouth falling open. She shakes her head at Aaron, as if shaking him into view.
“Morning, Erin.” He holds a hand up in greeting but doesn’t look away from his phone.
Erin mouths what happened? at me and vigorously points at him.
“She dragged me into bed,” he says, still scrolling with his thumb. “I thought she was joking when she told me she uses men.”
“She doesn’t. Do you? I don’t see you with many guys. I mean, you don’t have a boyfriend so…” I shake my head in a ‘shut up’ gesture.
“He’s joking, I never said that.”
“Oh well, as long as you had a nice time,” says Erin.
She wanders over to the fridge and yanks open the door.
Nice time? I want to cover my hands with my face.
“I sure did.” Aaron lifts his eyes to mine.
“Still not blushing,” I tell him.
“You should be,” he says in a low voice.
I glance at Erin, who’s luckily oblivious to our conversation.
“I should call an Uber,” Aaron says. “I can’t really hang around long.”
If we lived in the same city would he’ve left last night? An uncomfortable tingle trickles along my spine. My romantic thoughts before? Dumb. Hormones crit common sense. Again. “Sure.”
Erin watches us as she pours herself a glass of juice, and I can see her mind whirring behind her eyes. I attempt a real smile, but however clueless she is about many things in life, this situation sings loud and clear.
“I might not be around for the raid tonight,” he says. “Doubt I’ll be home in time. I’ll let Tyler know.”
Tyler? “Right.”
“I reckon Spencer will be okay to fill in heals if you want to take my spot?”
My mouth dries as I attempt to eat my toast. We’re right back to the game; to our online characters and world, as if Evie and Aaron stop here.
“Okay.”
Aaron rubs his cheek as he studies me closer. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” I force a smile as Erin pulls a sympathetic one.
“I’m meeting Cole, I’d best get ready.” Erin scurries from the room, leaving a bigger hole in the atmosphere.
“Back to Sin and Thor then?” I ask him. I’m going outright here, not playing more games. He can forget that.
“If you want.”
“What do you want?”
Aaron rubs his face, hand across the growth which scratched my skin last night. “My answer would be different if I lived in Perth, but I think really there’s not much we can do in the situation. Our relationship stays online.”
“I suppose…”
He reaches over and squeezes my hand. “I’ve had an awesome time this weekend, but I don’t live close enough. This—us— wouldn’t work.”
Wow.
But we haven’t tried.
Or…
“Do you have a girlfriend already?” I blurt. “Or a wife?”
He blinks at me. “No. You asked me last night, and I wouldn’t lie just for sex. But understand my reasoning behind not wanting to try some kind of long-distance thing between us. We hardly know each other. What if either of us meet somebody else?”
My hand heats under his strong grip and a small crease appears between his brows as he looks back into my eyes. How can he be so pragmatic? Does he not feel the same connection? The one that pulled together the thread joining us across the internet and into reality.
Fool. We’ve spent weeks getting to know each other online and I imagined a larger connection. This wasn’t a meeting of hearts and souls, but the physical step in a virtual relationship. At least that’s the situation for him, anyway.
16
I bury my nose in the blanket I’ve wrapped around my shoulders, where Aaron’s scent lingers. My head hurts from dealing with Aaron’s shock reaction to our night and my stomach from eating too much Häagen-Dazs to fill the hole with something other than embarrassment. I push the cardboard container and spoon across the desk.
The evening guild chat fills with discussion of the Con and cosplay, and about the party. Nobody mentions Aaron and me; hopefully nobody noticed apart from Erin.
Everybody’s concentration levels suck tonight. We died repeatedly before we moved far into the dungeon—everybody dead before we even touched the first boss.
“I don’t know why we bothered tonight,” I say over voice chat. “We’re shattered after this weekend.”
“Plus we’re missing a member,” replies Lorlien. Not part of the Perth crew but central to the raid team, our Singaporean member’s focus is only matched by Aaron’s. He and Lorlien often become involved in heated arguments around strategies, but Aaron normally wins.
Silence.
I huff. “Just say the words. Let’s get everything out in the open now, then you can forget about Sin and Thor’s scandalous behaviour.”
“The what?” asks Tyler. “Evie…”
Shit. “Oh. Nothing. Doesn’t matter.”
“Uh huh. I knew you two would get up to no good,” he says.
“Who would? What are you talking about?” asks Lorlien.
“Thor and Sin spent some alone time together,” replies Tyler.
“What the hell?” asks Cole “That’s crazy. You two bitch at each other all the time. Erin never said anything.”
Thank you, Erin, looks like my big mouth is responsible.
“What do you mean? I don’t understand,” asks Lorlien.
“Sin and Thor. Alone time,” Tyler repeats.
“Fuck,” he replies. “Thor’s not going to leave the guild, is he?’
“Why would he leave?” I ask.
“Seen it happen. Never works out,” Lorlien replies.
I balk. “Seriously? Couples play together all the time.”
“You’re a couple?” asks Tyler in disbelief.
“No! I mean couples can have differences and it doesn’t affect the guild.”
“You two always had differences,” says Lorlien.
“Well, no change then,” I snap back.
“So where is he tonight?” he asks.
“Travelling. Aaron— Thor—said he’ll be back online tomorrow.” I pause. “So now you know, we can drop the conversation and resume normality. What happened is none of your business. Thanks.”
Everything quiets and I tense, ready to field any more judgement or comments.
“I think we need five minutes before we move on,” says Cole. “Or has everybody had enough death and destruction for tonight?”
“I’m tired,” I say and don’t miss somebody’s chuckle. “Oh, grow up!” I snap.
“Let’s call it a night,” says Tyler.
The group gradually disbands, characters disappearing from the dungeon as they return to the main town or other quest areas. Picking my phone up, I check the screen, but no message from Aaron. We exchanged numbers and he told me he’d be in touch. Too soon, Evie.
I stand in the middle of the grey-walled castle, staring at the dead spiders around me as the echoing screams from inside the game replace the guys’ voices in my earphones.
A grey rat looks up at Sinestre, harmless, unable to attack her. She blasts it to oblivion with one shot of lightning from her figures.
*
I shouldn’t have slept off my heavy night this afternoon, because I’m staring at my phone at 2am, playing over everything in my head. I texted him earlier asking if he had a good flight and immediately regretted sending the message.
Especially as he hasn’t responded. Not even a brief ‘yes’, ‘no’, ‘thanks’, or ‘who are you?’
Did I expect Aaron to message? Should I message him again?
No, he was perfectly clear with me this morning; the ‘I’ll call you’ as insincere as the cliché.
I huff and place the phone on the nightstand. One day, I will arrive at work after a full night’s sleep.
That day will not be tomorrow.
Thorsday: Hey, Sin. Another late one?
Sinestre: As always. Surprised to see you.
Thorsday: What can I say, daily quests needed completing.
I wait for more, but nothing comes so I head to an in-game store to sell my useless items. You know, like my self-respect.
Thorsday: Chat?
Without replying, I drag my earphones on and the familiar noise sounds to indicate we’re both on the server. I check the screen. Only us logged into voice chat.
“Good flight?” I ask.
“Yeah. Not bad.”
“Not working tomorrow?”
“No. I’m away mid-week, business trip, taking a day off to recover from the weekend.”
“I wish,” I say with a laugh. “I’ll be the zombie at work tomorrow, disguised in The Walking Dead display.”
“Sleep, then.”
“I can’t.”
Travelling for work? So he is a businessman? Salesman? He doesn’t look like a professional who’d require grooming. I snort. Grooming: like a dog.
I refocus on the game. Jesus, how much crap am I carrying in my bags. Tiger bones, tattered cloth, broken teeth, weeds… Fortunately, the game pays gold even for items nobody can use.
“Sin.” He interrupts my character’s bag rearrangement.
“Yes, Aaron?”
“Evie. Are you pissed off with me?”
“Why? What did I say?”
“No. This morning. You seemed pissed off.”
I sigh. “I think I made a mistake. With you. I do this every time—decide it’s just sex and then feel crap afterwards.”
His voice softens. “Oh. You make me feel bad. I didn’t realise. I thought you were cool with…uh, things.”
“Don’t feel bad. It’s fine.” Liar, liar.
“Evie, I didn’t think. I’m sorry. You know I need to keep the game separate to my life. And you have to agree about the long-distance thing.”
“Need? Why do you need to keep everything so separate?” I blurt, immediately wishing I hadn’t revealed this much of myself.
“We’ve discussed this, because the game’s our place to escape from the shit in the outside world. Where everything’s simpler.”
“Reality’s always at the edge, Aaron.”
“And that’s where I want to keep my relationships. At the edge.”
I bite on my lip, frustrated that this situation affects me as much as it does.
“I shouldn’t’ve gone to the party,” he finishes.
“I understand,” I lie. Again.
“How did the raid go tonight?” he asks. “Did you guys get far?”
“Don’t,” I whisper. “Don’t just shut me down.”
There’s a pause. “Maybe it’s not you I’m shutting down. Maybe it’s myself.”
“I’m too tired for this.”
“I thought you said you weren’t tired?”
I stare at the screen, at the quests, at my character alone in the half-empty town. Suddenly, for the first time in months, I can’t be bothered. Everything is too hard.
Aaron’s right. Reality should stay at the edge.
17
Life returns to the normal grind: work, gaming, sleep, plus the occasional night out. Rinse and repeat. Over the next few weeks, the hurt over the Aaron situation leaves as I rationalise what happened, and my overreaction. I chose to do what I did with no promises from him. We revert to our original relationship as Thor and Sin, but stay polite and focused on game talk. I no longer play late at night. I don’t want the awkwardness if we’re the only two in the guild online. Bonus: for the last month, I’ve slept more because I’m not playing late anymore.
This afternoon, following years of resistance, Erin decides to play.
Erin, whose gaming experience consists of Facebook games.
Sinestre stands with Cole’s character, Tanksalot, and I tap my fingers on the desk. He persuaded me to join in helping Erin with early quests and I agreed, mostly for the amusement factor.
“Where is she?” I ask.
He huffs. “Trying to connect to the chat server. She just spent half a bloody hour on the character creation screen.”
“Are you with her?”
“Yeah. She’s on my spare laptop.”
“Can you tell her to hurry up?”
A muffled voice follows and I strain to hear. Cole impatiently requests she just ‘choose a bloody hairstyle and character name, it really doesn’t matter’.
Tyler snorts. “I knew this was a bad idea.”
A human avatar dressed in level 1 armour materialises on screen:
Teracnire
Human Cleric
Level 1
A new voice joins us on chat. “Hey, guys. I’m ready.”
Somehow, I doubt she is. “Is that your real name spelled backwards?”
“Yes. All the names I wanted aren’t available.”
“Let’s get started,” says Cole. “Just follow me.”
Fifteen minutes later, my character sits on the ground as I watch proceedings onscreen and form excuses to leave.
The zombies in the starter area don’t attack unless you attack them and are ridiculously easy to kill; a simple intro to the game. Ten minutes and six deaths later, Erin finally listened to Cole that, as a magic dealer, she uses spells to fight, and that hitting zombies with her wooden staff won’t kill them before they kill her.
“I’m using magic and I’m dying again!” she complains. “Why am I dying?”
“Because you’re standing in a campfire, Erin,” I say.
Tyler chortles across the chat server. “Man, I should come and watch this.”
Teracnire wails the human death sound and collapses into the fire. “I died again!” The frustration edges further into her voice with each death. I don’t think her game trial will become paid membership.
“Way to spend a Sunday,” I mutter.
“Pardon?” asks Erin.
“I might leave you with Cole. Cole—just kill everything for her so she can level up and find another quest to do. Maybe one collecting flowers, far away from campfires and zombies?” I suggest.
“Where are you going?” asks Cole.
“Tyler needs my help on a quest.”
“I do?” Tyler asks.
“Yes. We need to try and find a new cloak for you before Mr. Hemsworth returns from his weekend off and complains your Dexterity is too low. Again.”
“Right. Yeah. Meet you in Lion’s Citadel, just need to finish up at the trading house.”
“I’ll grab something to eat.”
I head to the kitchen and yank open the fridge. A half-empty pizza box from yesterday evening is propped on top of Erin’s boxed salads in the fridge. Awesome.
After I pick the pineapple from the top—seriously, who thinks pineapple belongs on pizza?—I shove a slice into the microwave where it sizzles as I locate a bottle of soda.
A knock on the front door interrupts my eating and mental planning which quests to do with Tyler. Taking the plate of heated pizza with me, I head down the hallway to greet my unwanted guest.
The door swings open and I peer out. “Hey, Evie.”
The tall, blond, as freaking gorgeous as I remember him, Aaron smiles at me as I drop the half-eaten slice on the plate. Although not dressed in armour to fuel Sinestre’s fantasies, the effect mirrors the first time I saw him. He’s cut his hair since the Con; shorter but still enough to hang onto. I blink at the thought. Evie, stop. Aaron: blue eyes with the unintentional smoulder, the dimples, the perfect face, the huge-ass muscles, the…
“Evie?”
“Aaron?”
“Thought I’d drop by.”
Should I reach out? Stroke him? See if he’s real and not an apparition from Asgard? “From Sydney?”
“No, from Perth.”
He chews on the edge of his lip. “You going to invite me in or not?”
Skillful deflection, as ever, Thorsday. I step back, gripping the plate, and he nods at the congealing slice. “Healthy lunch.”
“You want some pizza?”
“I ate.”
My brain freezes and my social skills drip to the floor. The stammering small talk won’t work here, and despite my attempt to hide this, the pizza isn’t what either of us want to devour.
Crap.
Be mad. Frowny face.
I return to the kitchen and place the plate on the table, my back to Aaron, summoning up a witty retort to his arrival, but none appears. Hairs lift on the back of my neck as he steps closer.
“I wanted to see you while I was in Perth,” he says. “I wasn’t sure if you would since you’ve been odd with me recently.”
I turn and almost bump my head into his solid chest. He is way too close and his warm body too tempting. “Odd? Because I thought our relationship was strictly in game?”
“Four weeks,” he says. “Four weeks waiting for you to log on at night to talk to you.”
“What? You’ve waited to talk to me?” I grab my phone from the kitchen counter and hold it out. “Do you know how to use one of these?”
He wrinkles his nose. “Yeah, I’m crap. I decided if we spoke to each other and you told me to piss off that would be easier online than over the phone.”
“And I suppose online you could also pretend I wasn’t real? Maybe try to date my character instead?”
“Date?” he asks, confusion crossing his face.
“You know what I mean! Log off if you’ve had enough of me or want to avoid awkward conversations. You were very clear the morning after we… the party.”
Aaron pushes hair from his face with both hands, muscles in his arms flexing as he stands with fingers in his hair, looking down at me. “I’m confused.”
“You’re confused?”
“I say I don’t want to take things further, to become involved in a relationship but I’m with you most nights of the week. I listen to how smart and funny you are, while trying to figure out what you think. What I feel. Every time we’re online, I hear about your life and want to be around you. In person.”
“You told me we were one night, basically a mistake.”
His face softens, and voice lowers. “No, the mistake I made was not opening up to you.”
End Game: A Gamer Romance Page 10