One More Round (Gamer Boy Book 2)

by Lauren Helms

  Now, two days after getting her number, I find myself standing outside the movie theater waiting for Gia. It’s not a date. It’s just a hang-out-with-friends kind of thing. But I can’t help feeling a bit excited.

  “Simon!” I hear from my right. When I look over I see her, and she looks stunning.

  Her golden-blond hair is pulled back into a low ponytail and hangs over one shoulder. She’s wearing a bright, orange sweater-looking shirt and dark jeans that seem to fit her like a second skin and a pair of animal print flats. She slides her glasses up to the top of her head and the smile that greets me shows in her gorgeous hazel eyes. I don’t even try to stop the smile that spreads across my face.

  Not a date.

  I start to walk toward her to do what? I’m not sure. I think I want to reach out and hug her but that would be weird, right? She comes to a stop in front of me and we both stand there smiling at each other. Her hands clutch the strap on her over-the-shoulder bag and I still fight the urge to pull her into a hug. My God, I want to so badly.

  Not. A. Date.

  “So, here we are,” she says.

  “Here we are,” I reply. Stupid grin still on my face.

  “You look good, Si,” she says, in an almost husky voice.

  I look down at myself. I’m just wearing a nicer version of my favorite pair of jeans, and a black button-up shirt with a pair of Chucks. Not a date, but I did wear my best casual. I look back up when she laughs.

  “Yes, your style is still perfectly you, but I was talking more about the smile on your face. I haven’t seen it directed at me in a very long time.”

  I don’t know what to say to that, so I just shrug.

  Topic change needed on Aisle 1.

  “So, what movie do you want to see? They’ve got a few starting within the next thirty minutes.”

  “Yeah, I looked them up, I thought we could see that new Pirates movie,” she says with a sly smile.

  I can’t help laughing. She obsessed over the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie.

  Shaking my head, I say OK and guide her to the doors of the theater. Without thinking, my hand goes to the small of her back and it hovers for a moment before I decide to just go for it. I hear her suck in a sharp breath at my touch but we both continue into the building.

  Moments later we take our seats toward the back of the theater. There is a good-sized crowd this evening, but not so many people that we have to sit close to others in our aisle. Gia settles in next to me with the popcorn and her drink. I bought our tickets, but she refused to let me buy the popcorn and drinks. In typical Gia fashion, she pulls out a bag of M&M’s. It's nice to see that not all old loves get left behind.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve been to a movie theater,” I tell her. We are a little early, so the theater ads are still running.

  “Yeah? No time for the big screen these days?”

  “No, but thank goodness for Netflix and OnDemand. How often do you get to the theaters?”

  “I try to catch a movie at least three times a month. My specialty is TV, but I still need to stay up-to-date on what’s making box office records.”

  “What do you mean, TV is your specialty?” I ask this realizing that I don’t know what it is she even does for a living. Immediately I’m struck with two opposing feelings: sadness that I used to know everything about this girl next to me and now know very little, but also resentment at the reasons I don’t know her anymore.

  She turns her head toward me with a shocked look on her face. “You don’t know what I do, do you?”

  “Erm, I don’t.”

  “Hmph.” She considers me for a moment. “Well, I’m a freelance writer. I blog for several news and entertainment sites. I write a lot of TV reviews and TV news pieces.”

  “A writer. You always wanted to do that.” I smile at her. I’m thrilled that she is doing what she wanted to do.

  “Yeah, I’ve been pretty lucky. In college I worked for the school newspaper and got a nice internship with the news conglomerate in Indy. Set me up for some good experience. While Morgan and I were getting settled in here, I took a few freelance gigs while I tried to find a job. But as I got into them, I realized how much I loved the freedom of working from home. The jobs paid well, and they kept coming. So, I decided to do that. I’ve written for a lot of sites over the years, but there’s a small few that I solely work for now.” She shovels some popcorn in her mouth and watches the screen.

  “Well, that’s really cool, G. Here I thought I had it good in the job path.”

  She smiles at me as the lights dim and the trailers start to play.

  We haven’t even made it through the first trailer when we both reach into the popcorn bucket at the same time, accidentally brushing hands.

  I smirk at her noticeable blush even in the darkened room. She mutters an apology as her hand falls to her lap. She’s holding the popcorn, so I have to reach over the middle armrest which is kind of annoying. Plus, knowing that I made her blush makes me want to do it some more. So, I lift the armrest to scoot a little closer. Since her arm was leaning against it, she falls toward me because I gave her no warning. I’m an asshole like that. I put a hand out and steady her at the waist.

  “Easy there. Sorry, I didn’t know you were using it and I didn’t want to reach so far for the popcorn.”

  “Oh, no worries.” She straightens up and I know she is uber-aware that we are super close now. Our thighs are only inches from each other. And our arms brush when we move.

  The movie starts, and all goes well. About 45 minutes in, she leans in close to my ear.

  “I’m done with the popcorn, are you?”

  I get an unexpected rush at feeling her warm breath on my face. I turn toward her bringing our faces so close that our noses almost touch.

  “Yeah. Even if I wasn’t, there isn’t much left. You always could put away a lot of that stuff.”

  I’m grinning, but I can’t help glancing down at her lips, which she must notice because she pulls her bottom lip through her teeth.

  “Be nice,” she scolds but turns and places the popcorn on the floor beside her.

  Now sans bucket, she wraps her arms around her middle and watches the movie.

  But, damn it. Now all I can think about is her mouth. And how it’s bound to taste like buttered popcorn.

  And her breath on my face. And how close our legs are to pressing against one another. I could just reach out my hand and lay it on her thigh.

  I realize I’m staring at her legs from the corner of my eye. She must feel it because I can feel the tension radiating off her. I have an overwhelming need to put my arm around her shoulders and pull her into me. What would she do? Would she rest her head on my shoulder and snuggle in? Would she place her hand on my chest? And now I’m thinking about where else she could put her hand.

  What the hell, Simon?

  Why am I having these thoughts? This is not a date.

  We are trying to be friends. Friends don’t have thoughts about where their friend's hands could go on their body.

  Shit. Now I’m starting to get hard thinking about her hand and where I’d like for it to go in this dark, somewhat crowded theater.

  She moves a little in her seat. I’m probably projecting my inappropriate thoughts. She lays her hand on her thigh and shifts in her seat, just enough that I can now feel the heat of her leg on my denim-covered one.

  Her hand is just … right … there. I could grab it and just … hold it.

  I sound like a sixteen-year-old on his first date.

  Get it together, man.

  So, I just play it cool and try to shift my focus back on the movie and rest my own hand on my thigh.

  My focus lasts for the better part of two minutes when I hear her let out a breath. It sounds more like a sigh. I glance over and see that she isn’t watching the movie but staring at my hand.

  Fuck me. Does she want this as much as I do?

  Staring back at the movie, I make my mov
e. Just a small movement has my hand covering hers. I lace our fingers together and rest them on her thigh. I try not to make a big deal about it, because I’m cool like that. I’m also apparently a sixteen-year-old, mentally. I turn my focus back to the movie again. But I sneak another glance and she’s got a small smile on her face which in turn has me grinning.

  I have no idea what is going on in this movie. I’ve spent way too long thinking of ways to touch her, and now that I’m holding her hand, I want more. I’m also a greedy asshole. I let go of her hand and place my hand flat on her thigh. She puts her hand on top of mine. Without realizing it though, I feel my thumb caressing where it sits on the slope of her inner thigh.

  But now I can’t make up my freaking mind as to what to do next. Because, again, I want more. What the hell, I’m going all in. I throw my arm around her and pull her in to my side. She straightens and looks at me.

  I turn toward her, our faces only inches apart.

  “What are you doing, Simon?” she asks so quietly I can barely hear her over the movie.

  “I have no idea,” I whisper as I lean in to her.

  Then I kiss her.

  She’s a bit shocked, so it takes another brush of my lips for her to relax against me. Finally, she starts to kiss me back. My tongue swipes at her mouth and she invites me in. Our tongues dance around each other, much like we’ve been doing for months. My other hand leaves her thigh to cup the side of her face, my fingers digging into her hair.

  Hot damn. This kiss was worth it. It’s slow, a bit hesitant and it means way too much. It’s all of our history and the way we used to feel, all wrapped up into one heart-pounding kiss.

  I’d kiss her for hours if I could. And I will, except I hear a throat clearing somewhere behind me. Then I hear a grumbled “Get a room.” And Gia must too because she breaks the kiss and slinks down to bury her face into my chest. I hear a mumbled “Oh my God.”

  I chuckle at this but tighten my hold on her.

  I wonder when this movie will be over and what will happen when we leave this dark theater. At this exact moment, I don’t even remember what movie we are watching.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Gia

  Emerging from the theater, I find myself in a strange state of angst. Really, I’m conflicted about everything that just happened during the movie. Simon is silent beside me as we slowly make our way to the nearest exit out of the theater. I'm not sure the kiss we just shared was a good idea. Don’t get me wrong, I loved every tantalizing second of it. But we are just getting back on level ground, the last thing we need is to complicate things with romantic feelings and sexual awareness of each other.

  Yet, I’ve been aware of him for months. More so the past few weeks. It really started back at The Bar when my jealousy of his booth babe got the best of me. And—

  Oh, shitballs. He has a girlfriend and we just made out during a movie and …

  What have I done?!

  Anger bubbles inside of me as I realize that I’ve let Simon make me the other woman. More so that I shouldn’t be the other woman, we aren’t even friends. How did I get myself in this situation?

  He grabs the door to allow us and others to leave the building, but I don’t get very far before I stop and turn toward him.

  “What was that in there, Simon?” I growl.

  He takes a quick survey of our surroundings before he ducks his head and places a hand on the small of my back to lead me away from the entry.

  “I’m serious. What was that? You have a freaking girlfriend,” I hiss, trying to keep my voice down. I jam my hands in my pockets and I can feel heat creeping up my face.

  “I don’t know,” he replies as he places a hand on my shoulder.

  I twist away so his hand falls and his eyes widen briefly in response to my diss.

  I repeat his words slowly back to him, confused that this whole thing is even happening.

  “How do you not know? Was that your plan along? To make out? What would make you think that was a freaking good idea, Simon? I thought you wanted to be friends? Get back to the way things were? Well, news flash, we never made out in theaters, so …” I trail off because I just don’t know what else to say. I cross my arms over my stomach to fight the onset of the bitter, anxious feeling in my gut.

  Simon’s nostrils flare again, his eyes searching mine.

  “No, it wasn’t my plan to make out, but it was dark, and we were sitting so close and I just … I just couldn’t help it. I wanted you, I wanted to touch you and.” He makes a sweeping gesture toward me. “You wanted it too, so why are you flipping out right now?”

  Damn, he’s right. I did want it. So bad. With every brush of our legs and bump of our shoulders, I wanted him to touch me that much more. The desire just kept building.

  “So what! You have a girlfriend!” I nearly shriek.

  He rolls his eyes. “What kind of guy do you think I am, Gia? Do you really think I’d cheat on my girlfriend?”

  “Honestly, no. I have no idea what type of guy you are because I don’t know you anymore.”

  The words fly out of my mouth and at that instant his eyes turn cold. That hard, icy glare that I’m all too familiar with bores into me. He huffs and just shakes his head.

  “You're right, you don’t know me. And whose fault is that? Clearly, it’s not mine since I’m not the one who fucking left without so much as a goodbye and blocked all your calls. No, that was all you, G. All. Fucking. You,” he seethes with anger.

  I gulp down the sour acid now at the back of my throat.

  “So, we are doing this? Now? Right here on the sidewalk outside the movie theater?”

  “I guess so,” he growls.

  Letting out a long, low sigh, my arms hang to my side. I look up at his anger-filled face and start speaking.

  “It hurt too much. It physically hurt when I thought about having to say goodbye to you.” I glance away at the busy street. “The night before we left, I had an anxiety attack. I couldn’t breathe—couldn’t stop crying. My mom was ready to call 911 because she didn’t know what was wrong. She offered to call you and that just made it worse. She figured it out soon enough.” I sneak a glance back at Simon and the anger on his face has lessened a bit. I take another deep breath, because this next part will just make him mad again.

  “We decided that I should leave without seeing you. To just make a clean break. Don’t get me wrong, that suggestion alone ended up triggering about an hour’s worth of tears, but the alternative was another anxiety attack. I didn’t sleep that night. I stared at my phone. I started texting you so many times. I almost called you several more times than that. But in the end, I opted for the clean break. It truly felt like the best option.”

  “What about me? What was the best option for me? Did you even think about that?” he asks, his tone hushed and deep.

  “I did. And like I said, I really did think it was the best option. I knew you’d be mad at me. But I decided that I’d rather you hate me than try to make something work that had no chance of surviving the distance.”

  “You didn’t even give it a chance! You had no faith in our relationship. You made the wrong decision,” he spits hotly.

  I nod. The tears that I’ve been fighting finally start to fall.

  “I know I did,” I whisper. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  I frantically try to wipe the tears away when I’m suddenly pulled in tight against him. He swears into my hair and holds me tighter. My arms go around his waist and the tears come in earnest now. I wasn’t expecting this kind of reaction, just the opposite.

  He makes shushing sounds into my hair and rubs my back.

  “Stop crying, G. It’s OK.”

  Into his shirt I ask, “How is this OK? You hate me, and I deserve it. But I miss you so fucking much.”

  “I don’t hate you. I might have thought I did, but I really never did. And I’ve missed you so fucking much too.”

  A sense of calm washes over me at his words. I peek up at
him.

  “Really?”

  He smiles down at me. “Yes. But I don’t think being friends is going to work.”

  He doesn’t look menacing when he says it, but my body goes stiff and the hope building inside me starts to flee.

  “Oh …” I move to back away from him, but he holds me tighter to his chest.

  “We aren’t kids anymore. There’s no way we can go back to the way things were. I wanted to try to be friends, but after that kiss in there … I don’t know if I can just be friends with you,” he admits. I let out a shaky breath and sag into him.

  “But what about Little Miss Booth Babe?” I ask into his chest. I breathe him in and savor the scent I have missed for far too long.

  He chuckles.

  “I knew you were jealous.” I roll my eyes, even though I know he can’t see. “But she isn’t in the picture anymore.”

  I fight my smile, I really do, but she was not right for him.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I say, which comes out more like a question.

  “Our relationship wasn’t really going anywhere. So, it’s not a big deal.”

  I hug him one last time and then pull away from him even though I want to bury myself back into his arms, to be surrounded by him. It’s been so many years since I’ve been close to him like this. My body and mind just became so incredibly needy for him.

  “So, friends and maybe more?” I ask.

  “Yeah, maybe more.” He grabs my hand and we head off down the street for some coffee. Well, if him asking me to hang out wasn’t a big enough turn of events, us being “maybe more” should be, right?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Gia

  I’m happy. Like really happy. It’s been barely a week since our movie date and things are really good between Simon and me. We’ve talked every day, mostly by text, but we even managed to grab lunch one day. I’ve missed him so much that, now that I have him back, my heart just wants to soar out of my chest.

  I don’t think we are dating though, I think we are just trying to get back to friends. There is some touching. As in, occasional hand holding, but nothing even remotely PG-13. Mostly, I’m OK with that because, you know, baby steps. But I’m starting to crave those lips of his. Kissing Simon was something I always thought about and wanted, but never thought was going to happen. He kissed me the night before I left town, and I’ve been hung up on that kiss ever since then.