End Game: A Gamer Romance

by Swallow, Lisa

  “Oh, right, so you’ve come to tell me everything about yourself, rather than discuss game mechanics and criticise my game play which is our usual conversation?” A thought hits. Game. “Crap. Hang on.”

  I stride back to my computer. A pissed off Tyler moans at me through my headphones and I apologise. “Something came up. I have to go.”

  “What? Evie, you just told me you’d quest with me this afternoon.”

  “Yeah, I have a real-life quest giver to deal with.” Aaron rests against the doorframe and watches impassively.

  “Huh? That’s cryptic,” replies Tyler.

  “Sorry. I’ll be around later.” Before he can protest any further, I close voice chat and drop my headphones to the desk.

  “We’re on a quest?” asks Aaron.

  I fold my shaking hands beneath my arms. “I can’t figure out the storyline to follow. Why are you here?” My stomach flips as he crosses, and attempts to hold my face. “Oh, no. Out of my bedroom.”

  Aaron shakes his head and backs up. “Yes ma’am.”

  I scowl. “Don’t annoy me.”

  “You’re not very welcoming.”

  “Are you surprised? Jesus, Aaron. I should ask you to leave, I don’t want another game of ‘guess if Aaron can tell the truth’.”

  He blows air into his cheeks and rests against the door frame. “Okay, I’ll match what I know about you. I’m Aaron Fletcher, I work in an advertising agency in Sydney but I’m originally from Perth. I live on my own. I’m twenty-six. I rarely socialise outside of drinks with work colleagues and client functions. That’s basic, boring crap and makes no difference to our situation.”

  Well, that was bloody unexpected. “Girlfriend?” I shoot back.

  He looks me straight in the eye. “I don’t date. Unlike you.”

  I tip my head. “Are you jealous?”

  “I was, but I noticed you haven’t mentioned any guys recently.”

  “Not a topic of conversation for guild chat.”

  He pauses for a moment. “Y’know. I kept thinking you and Tyler might get together. I listen to your banter.”

  I splutter. “No freaking way. He’s not my kind of guy and I’m not his kind of girl—he prefers tall, attractive blondes. Plus, he’s immature.” I pause. “You always turn things around onto other people. We’re not talking about me.”

  “‘Parry’ is the word you’re looking for.”

  “At least you admit it.” Aaron half-shrugs. “Why not just tell me all this the first time we met?”

  “We spoke about this at the time. I could’ve told you anything I wanted about myself and you wouldn’t know if it were true. But right now, I’m getting the vibe I’ll need to open up if I don’t want you to kick my ass back out the door.”

  “Who said you were staying?” Alarm flickers in his eyes and pushes at my resolve. He really wants to spend time with me? “You can take me out. How long are you around?” I scout the room for socks and sit on the bed.

  “All afternoon. The flight leaves at eight.” He points at my feet. “Your socks don’t match.”

  “‘Ain’t nobody got time for that’,” I say in a mock American accent and point to the floor near him. “Nobody will see my socks. Pass my shoes.”

  “You’re not changing into something else?”

  I take my sneakers from him and look down at my standard tee and jeans combo. “No.”

  “Okay.” Aaron gestures for me to leave the room. “You’re funny, unicorn girl. Time to quest?”

  I shake my head at him. “I haven’t decided if I want to keep playing your game. I’m not sure I’m interested in where the storyline leads next.”

  He crosses his arms. “No games, Evie. Time to go.”

  18

  Aaron doesn’t speak again until we approach the small cafe strip along the street, a few blocks away from my house. We pass a small Italian cafe—almost—and Aaron takes my arm.

  “Here. I’ll buy you a decent pizza, not that fast food crap. Outside or in?” He gestures at the small round tables and uncomfortable-looking wooden chairs beneath a canopy. Despite the Perth sunshine, the late autumn temperature is cool.

  “Inside.” I step past him and into the dimly lit cafe. Sunday-lunchers fill most tables, the majority couples our age—or mine. The fresh aroma from the oven and huge pizzas spread between couples sets my stomach to growling louder than next door’s dog.

  Aaron pulls a chair out for me to sit, and I mumble thanks at his gentlemanly gesture. One very attentive, smiling waitress later, we have two menus and scrutiny from the whispering staff. I study Aaron as he reads the menu, and I step back from the Evie who’s annoyed this guy screws her around and return to the one who almost threw herself at him the moment he reappeared. I glance back at the tattooed waitress whose look echoes my thoughts: ‘We don’t see many men around here who look like him’.

  He glances up. “Aren’t you choosing?”

  “Chicken Cacciatore.”

  “Want to share?”

  “Sure, if you like that flavour.”

  He flashes a smile. “All good. Wine or beer?”

  The discomfort I expected melts away as we chat; perhaps if I closed my eyes I could pretend we’re in game and that this isn’t a pseudo-date with a man I slept with and dreamed that repeat performances would be a delicious distraction.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, and I tear my eyes away from his hands and what I was imagining he could do with them.

  “Did you plan to visit me this weekend when you came to Perth?” I ask.

  “No, but as soon as I arrived here the idea became a yes.”

  “You could’ve contacted me before arriving at my door.”

  He sets down the menu. “I could’ve, but I didn’t.”

  I tighten my mouth. “So why are you in Perth?”

  “Family issues. Kind of.”

  “Oh?”

  Focusing on cutting the pizza, he wipes his fingers on a napkin. “This isn’t a ‘spill everything about ourselves’ afternoon, Evie.” His voice is low and warning me to back off.

  “Family drama!” I say light-heartedly. “I totally get that. Mine constantly nag me.”

  “What about?”

  “Finding a ‘proper job’.” I make inverted commas with my fingers. “I hoped they’d shut up when I landed the manager role at the store, but I didn’t have the confidence to apply.” I slide a slice towards me and focus hard on not allowing the topping to land on the table. Real, tasty crusts softened by cheese and goodness and… I take a bite and my tastebuds sing.

  “You’re young, do your own thing if that’s what makes you happy.”

  “Happy and poor. I probably need to focus on the world outside of the game.”

  “You and me both.” He takes a huge bite and we watch each other, chatting between mouthfuls.

  “Your job sounds interesting,” I say.

  “Yeah. Wish I was more creative like you.”

  “Me? I’m not.”

  “Your art, Evie. I’ve seen what you post online, and don’t forget I was in your bedroom. Saw your sketches and you’re pretty awesome. Ever thought about studying design? Hell, maybe you could work for the game and design graphics.”

  I blink away the image created by the words ‘your bedroom’ spoken in Aaron’s sexy tones. “Ha, I don’t think so. Yeah, I’ve considered studying but I don’t know where to start looking. I open up websites to look, and all the options confuse me.”

  “Just look at the situation as a quest,” he says. “A real life one.”

  “The hardest real life quest I’ve conquered recently is the laundry.”

  “Better than me, then. I want to find and defeat the mobs who steal my socks when I do my laundry.”

  I lick my fingers and pick up my beer. “You’re weird.”

  “So are you. That’s why I like you.”

  I fight turning pink. “So, advertising? Worked there long?”

  “For a couple of years in
Sydney. I worked for the same firm in Perth first.”

  “More opportunity in Sydney?”

  “Something like that.” He pauses. “You thought any more about leaving Perth?”

  “Not really. Life’s less complicated here. Everybody I knew my whole life is still around. I like that.”

  “Lucky.” He swigs from his bottle then rubs his lips together.

  “Why did you hide things so ordinary as your job?” I ask. “It’s not as if you’re Special Forces or anything.”

  “Or am I?” He cocks a brow. “Just kidding. The more people know about you, the more of you they have, if that makes sense? I like my privacy these days.”

  “Privacy or anonymity?”

  He places the empty bottle on the table. “Being Thorsday.”

  “But you can be Aaron with me. Is that what you’re trying to tell me by coming here?”

  “I had to see you,” he says in a low tone. “We barely speak and I realised we stopped being Thor and Sin long before that night at the party. I looked back at all the time we spent together online and realised the game wasn’t the escape anymore, you were. When I lost Sinestre, I lost Evie too.”

  I blink. “Wow.”

  Aaron reaches across the table and runs his fingers across the back of my hand, the sensation fluttering across my chest. “I want to see more of you. Online and offline. Clothed and naked.”

  I stare back, attempting very hard not to look like he smacked me across the face with his shield. I clear my throat. “You want us to… what? Date?”

  He places his other hand on mine. “Not sure that’s the right word, but then what is? We’re in separate cities. That won’t change.”

  I fold the edge of my napkin and focus on the thoughts and fantasies I’ve had about this exact situation. “So you’re suggesting we try to be… something outside of the game?”

  “We can catch up whenever possible. I’m in Perth every few months. Doesn’t have to be too serious.”

  “I need to get this straight.” I lay my hands out on the table. “You visited me today to tell me you don’t want a long-distance relationship, but when you come to Perth you want to see me. Long distance friends with benefits idea?”

  “No. I want to spend time with you the way we are now, wait for life to become less complicated, see where yours leads. I’m twenty-six and you’re twenty-one. You have no plans but a lot in your future. I am staying in the life I have. The two may not match.”

  “But we match,” I whisper.

  “We definitely spark something. I want that spark, even if you move on soon.”

  “Why do you presume I’ll be the one to move on?”

  He squeezes my hand. “Because I might not give you what you need.”

  “How do people manage a long-distance relationship without commitment?”

  He shrugs. “Wish I knew but it’s worth a shot, right?”

  His legs touch mine under the table as he shifts closer and my heart rate rises to a level that would find me on the critical list. Common sense brain says ‘thanks, but no thanks.’ Heart says ‘look at him, for god’s sake, and think about all the losers you’ve met recently’.

  Hell, who cares? At least this one knows what he’s doing.

  19

  “Your flatmate isn’t home yet, is she?” he asks as he close the front door behind him.

  “She’s with her not-my-boyfriend Cole playing the game.”

  “Seriously?” He laughs. “Let me guess, she won’t be joining the raid anytime soon?”

  “All she’s raiding is the armour repair store—” Aaron’s mouth crashes against mine and I stumble backwards against the kitchen table.

  His kiss invades everywhere, sudden, but what I’ve wanted since the moment he walked in two hours ago. I drop back and steady myself on the table behind with one arm, gripping his head with the other.

  He rests his forehead against mine, as our breath mingles. “Too soon?”

  Aaron doesn’t need to ask, my reaction should be enough. I’d told myself I wouldn’t give in to the desire to revisit exactly how toe-curlingly amazing sex with this man is, but something happens to my brain whenever he touches me. It leaves.

  “Not too soon.”

  Aaron leans forwards, mouth still on mine, as he nudges my knees apart and pushes himself between my legs. Fingers touch my skin, sparking a memory of the last time we did this, one my body instantly responds to. I yank him by the t-shirt closer still, and push up the material to feel my skin against his. Real. Warm. Here.

  “Is she due home any time soon?” he asks.

  “No. I don’t think so, I—”

  Aaron pulls me upwards, and I push his t-shirt higher until he takes the hint and pulls the material over his head. I want to drop back and close my eyes, hold this snapshot of him bare-chested and looking at me as if I’m his, but instead I pull my t-shirt off to match. I shift forward, and Aaron slides his arms around to my back, gripping me close, his mouth and hands possessive. Where our skin meets, the heat builds and I don’t care if I’m in the kitchen, I want him. I want to be his.

  “I have some apologising to do,” he murmurs.

  I shiver as he pulls the lace to one side and cups my breast before closing his mouth around my nipple. He circles his hot tongue, and a lightning-jolt trips along my spine and to my toes. Aaron’s days of scruff scratches my soft skin and I relish the sensation’s contrast with his soft lips as I hold his head against me.

  Aaron slides a hand along my jeans, higher along my thigh until he reaches my zip, switching to hot kisses along my neck until he rests his lips on my pulse point. Our breath comes in hot, heavy unison and I tense as I wait for him to unbutton my jeans. He looks up at me, as he unzips I wriggle to help them out of the way.

  The only barrier now is my lace panties, dampening with each kiss and touch. The ache builds as he traces fingers along my inner thigh and skims along the front. I grip his hair tighter, attempting to stay upright. And fail. Aaron’s mouth finds mine again, as he covers my body with his, and I make a soft noise as he moves to stroke my sensitive flesh. I push myself against his palm, as the kiss continues, and Aaron slides a finger between the lace and wet heat waiting for him.

  “You’re absolutely sure she won’t be home in the next half hour?” Aaron’s darkened eyes reflect my own lust in this situation, and he smiles as he watches my parted-mouth reaction as he moves his finger inside me, and circles my clit. My body clenches and I push harder against his palm with need for more than this touch.

  Much more.

  I swallow and nod.

  Without a word, Aaron steps back, and pushes me back against the table. He leisurely kisses me from my breasts to my belly, dipping his tongue into my navel, fingers working me as he does. I make a surprised noise as he grasps my legs and drags me to the table edge. One hand on my belly still, he kneels and kisses along my shaking leg, until his rapid, hot breath strokes my sensitive flesh.

  Omigod he’s going to do this here and now and on the kitchen table and—white light arcs across my vision as Aaron drags his tongue along me, then closes his mouth around the bundle of nerves, teasing me inside with his finger. The toe-curling shocks running through intensify as he licks and sucks me, paying attention to each sound I make. Aaron grips my thighs, spreading my legs further as he runs his tongue along me, lapping my wetness.

  His tongue skillfully strokes and teases as he sucks on my clit until I’m heading upwards again. This man can do things with his tongue I never imagined possible, each stroke pushing me further into a natural high, driving me to the blinding edge.

  As my breathing turns ragged and my legs shake against him, Aaron presses his tongue harder against me matching the rhythm with pushing his fingers back inside, dragging me into an intensity I’ve never experienced. My vision blackens, and the orgasm shatters me; I lose control and half-scream his name as I come.

  Aaron doesn’t stop, continuing to work me with his tongue and fingers.
Pleasure comes in waves of aftershocks, and I’m unable to move, my whole body weakened against anything but what he’s doing.

  “Stop now,” I breathe out.

  Aaron does with a laugh, switching to kissing along my thigh again, before sitting back and looking up at me. I’m vulnerable in front of him, but don’t feel I am at all. His smug smile curls across his lips. I sit up and launch myself at him, and he steadies himself in surprise as my lips meet his, and my hands dig into his shoulders.

  “I think we need to go into my bedroom,” I whisper, and rest my cheek on his shoulder.

  Aaron stands and holds me beneath the ass, my legs locked around his waist. “Sounds like a good plan to me,” he says, voice hoarse.

  As he effortlessly carries me from the room, in the direction of mine, I nip his ear. “I think we should’ve headed to my bedroom sooner.”

  “Yeah, like weeks ago.”

  Afterwards, we lie together with the same strange peace we had the first time; two people strangely comfortable with each other despite our bodies unfamiliarity. I listen to his heart thumping against my cheek and hope to hell he means what he said about trying to do this.

  “I’m coming back,” he whispers against my hair.

  “I should hope so,” I retort and poke him.

  “A month.” He rolls over, hands either side of my head as he looks down. “I promise.”

  The honesty is there, in his deep blue eyes, along with the same connection building each time we see each other. My heart swells at his words, that Aaron’s already talking about next time after seeking me out today.

  Maybe this could happen.

  20

  Our relationship continues to develop online and through nightly chats over Skype. I never thought Aaron would contact me again, convinced this would be the same situation as last time, but he proved me wrong.

  The guild continues to make progress, and our relationship remains on a weird track too. Aaron occasionally asks me about nights out when I go, and I feel the need to tell him I’m not dating anybody even though he says he shouldn’t ask.

  We don’t talk about the future, and he reveals little more about himself. But that’s the point—he doesn’t need to. Each time we’re online, the more time we spend together, the more I learn about him— everything from experiences at school to what his favourite food is. Lasagne, by the way, which I vow I’ll cook for him next time he visits.