She's Got Game

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She's Got Game Page 16

by Laura Heffernan


  Gratefully, I passed the card over. At least the move got me one point, dragging me closer to the top of the ditch I’d dug for myself.

  Dustin rolled the dice. Finally, a six came up. I gratefully pulled a wheat card from the resource deck, my relief palpable. He bought a card, but didn’t build anything.

  Kerry rolled a seven, which meant she and Rude Guy each lost half their cards. I’d never come anywhere near the hand limit in this game, so it didn’t affect me. For about half a second, I found a silver lining in this awful game. Until Kerry finished her turn. She played five cards, including the ore I’d handed her less than a minute ago. “I’m upgrading, and…that gives me ten points.”

  A strangled sound escaped me. Caught up in how badly I’d been doing, it never occurred to me someone else would be so near victory. I focused my gaze on the table, swallowing hard as the others counted their point totals. Dustin had nine points, Rude Guy seven. I didn’t even want to tell them. How humiliating. With only four points, this was the lowest-scoring game I’d ever played.

  That wasn’t even the worst part. Coming in fourth meant I’d been kicked out of the competition. I wouldn’t be going to Vegas. I’d lost. My vision swam, but I blinked away the tears with determination.

  Over Rude Guy’s shoulder, Don coughed. It sounded suspiciously like the word, “Karma.”

  I couldn’t even blame him for taking joy in my defeat. My desire for revenge overtook my common sense. Twice. Cody and I wouldn’t be at the final table together. We wouldn’t even be in Vegas together, sharing a room. When we left Chicago, it could be months before we saw each other. Worse, without the prize money, I could afford to keep running my blog maybe until the end of the year. I couldn’t pay off the debt I caused Dad, he’d need more time before expanding, and… hell, at this rate, I’d be lucky if I didn’t find myself answering phones in the shop for him. He certainly wouldn’t be taking a vacation with me anytime soon. I could forget about paying him back for the repairs.

  It didn’t take long to confirm the scores. I was out, and Don was in. By one point.

  Shame filled me as I bit my lip to keep from crying. I allowed myself to lose sight of what mattered, and I’d lost everything.

  Chapter 16

  Using every ounce of self-restraint possible, I managed to avoid crying on the conference room floor. I forced myself to walk slowly to the bathroom, locking myself in a stall before I let go. I didn’t know how long I stayed in there, miserably berating myself for being a hundred kinds of jerk. After I’d given Cody so much crap for being overly confident in the beginning, I’d let my own confidence get me eliminated. The irony didn’t escape me.

  Finally, I pulled myself together. I’d spotted Cody on my way to the bathroom, still playing. We’d have to catch up later. After I’d drowned my sorrows.

  Keeping my head down, I slipped out of the room and headed for the bar on the other side of the lobby. Sliding into a booth under a broken lamp, I ordered a drink and asked the waitress to keep ‘em coming. Then I turned my phone to Do Not Disturb, because the last thing I wanted was to talk to anyone. Keeping my gaze firmly on the table, I ignored everyone who walked by. Except the wonderful, wonderful woman who kept bringing me more drinks.

  When I finally felt well enough to make the trek back to my room, I started across the lobby, planning to text Cody once I got there and had another good, long cry. As it turned out, it wasn’t necessary. He stood near the door, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. A very different posture than when he’d waited for me the day before.

  When our eyes met, his slow grin made my stomach do cartwheels. “Hey, Carrots.”

  The comment took me back to the first night we ran into each other in Cambridge. “Are you following me?”

  “Maybe.” He grinned, immediately catching the reference. “Actually, I was going to text, but you were headed this way. I just saw the final scores. How are you?”

  I shook my head and pressed my lips together. “I don’t want to talk about it. But I’m glad you waited.”

  “Fair enough. What time’s your flight?”

  “I’m not leaving for a couple of days,” I said. “I’m staying in Chicago to take in the sights. Maybe hit a Cubs game, if I can get tickets. You?”

  “Flying home around noon tomorrow.” His eyes pierced mine, as if he peered into my soul. “You busy tonight?”

  The original plan had been to scour a couple of guidebooks, do some online research, plot my trip. That plan went out the window on Friday night. We wouldn’t see each other again for a few weeks, at least. He could change his mind about me, decide I wasn’t worth it, or even meet someone else. I might freak out again. A million things could go wrong. I didn’t want to lose the few hours we had left before he went to the airport and we both returned to our real lives.

  “I was thinking about ordering takeout and eating in my jammies,” I said. “Want to join me?”

  “Sounds great. Except I don’t have any jammies.”

  A thrill went through me as I pictured him sprawling on my couch, sans clothes. “Well, then, I guess you’ll have to be naked.”

  “Works for me.”

  The air between us crackled with electricity. I’d expected the sexual tension to abate once we gave in, but instead, it intensified. All day, while playing, I’d known exactly where he was, whether he was looking at me. When he drew near, the air grew so thick, I expected other people to comment. And now, at the thought of finally getting to be alone with him again, the excitement almost made me forget my terrible day.

  It only took a minute to find a car nearby. The second the door closed behind us, we jumped together like magnets, not caring about the driver or anyone looking through the windows. I couldn’t get enough of this guy.

  At our temporary home, the elevator was full, so we squeezed in around the other passengers. I glared at the numbers, willing them to move upward faster, and at the same time wanting the stupid thing to stop so everyone else would get off and leave us alone.

  My impatience surprised me. Never had I felt like this about anyone. But I reminded myself that it had been quite the dry spell. Maybe the romance writers were right, and anticipation acted as a powerful aphrodisiac. Surely, if we’d hooked up the first night in Boston, I would’ve gotten him out of my system, and I wouldn’t be such a bundle of emotions.

  On the other hand, if we’d hooked up in Boston, I wouldn’t have felt nearly as bad the next morning as I’d inevitably feel when things ultimately ended. Nothing to do about it now. I’d made my choice, and I refused to worry about the future. The end would come, I would deal.

  Finally, the elevator ground to a halt. In my distracted state, I hadn’t even thought about pushing a floor number, so it wasn’t a huge surprise when Cody lead me to a closed door and pulled out his key.

  “Are you okay? I know this is a big shock for you. I don’t want things to be weird. I hoped we’d face off in the finals. Sit at the final table together.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” My voice cracked on the words. I couldn’t cry again, not now. I couldn’t believe I’d come this far and wouldn’t be moving on. “We only have tonight, and I don’t want to spend it crying on your shoulder.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked as he fumbled with the lock.

  “Yes. All that matters is you and me,” I said. “Together, ignoring the rest of the world.”

  “Sounds good to me,” he said, opening the door with a flourish.

  His apartment had a similar layout to mine, with the living room straight ahead and a kitchen to the right. Presumably, a bedroom and bathroom lay somewhere beyond the living room, but I didn’t bother to find out. We reached for each other as soon as the door clicked shut. My backpack thudded to the ground, and Cody hoisted me onto the kitchen counter.

  It took more than an hour to find our way into t
he bedroom.

  * * * *

  For a few hours, Cody did his best to leave me thoroughly unable to think about getting eliminated. I appreciated his dedication to the cause. But eventually, we needed to stop to catch our breath. As nice as it sounded to spend twelve to fifteen hours in bed, Cody pointed out that we needed to keep our strength up. We ordered pizza and took it back to the bedroom where I threw myself into refueling. Thinking about anything except the competition.

  “I know you don’t want to talk about…stuff,” Cody said, breaking the silence.

  For a moment, my appetite disappeared. I set my food down and blinked repeatedly at my plate. Cody and I had come a long way, but I still didn’t want him comforting me. Not about this. Especially not when he would probably become the Annual Explorers of Islay Competition winner for the fifth year in a row, and I’d be home watching the final game on Twitch. I didn’t respond.

  “So, I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier, about traveling so much. What happens after tomorrow?”

  I chewed slowly, as if to make this bite of pizza last fourteen hours until his flight left and thereby avoid an awkward conversation. He waited. Finally, I swallowed.

  “My job requires me to travel all over the country,” I said. “We won’t see each other much.”

  “I know you spend a lot of time on the blog, and you seem to care a lot about making it nice, but is this what you want to do for the rest of your life?”

  Something in his tone set my teeth on edge. “The rest of my life is a long time. The blog pays my bills. It lets me discover new places. But yes, I love it. This is what I want to do right now.”

  “Yeah, I know, but it seemed like a hobby,” he said.

  “Well, it’s not.” I didn’t like the direction this conversation was headed. “We talked about this, remember? You were telling me how you travel so much for work? It made me realize we had more in common than I originally thought.”

  “Yeah, but I gave that life up. At some point, you’ve got to settle in one place, face your responsibilities.”

  “So now I run from responsibility?” With every word, he sank deeper into quicksand.

  He sighed. “This is coming out wrong. I meant…Well, I figured you had a real job back in Boston, something where you work remotely and still have the blog.”

  My hackles rose, my voice with it. “A real job? Blogging is a real job, thank you very much.”

  This time, I made it halfway to the door before he caught up to me. “Wait. I’m sorry. It threw me to hear you say we’re not going to be together much. I didn’t mean to insult what you do.”

  “I’ll bet. What did you mean to say? ‘I thought you were an unemployed loser.’?”

  “I’ve never, ever thought you were a loser. Not even when I kicked your ass during the game.”

  Usually, throwing down the trash talk distracted me, got me to change the subject. But this time, his words didn’t have the desired effect. All I wanted was to get away from him. I didn’t know why his comments bothered me so much, but I also didn’t want to be around him anymore.

  “Whatever. I’ve got to go.”

  “Gwen, stop. I wasn’t thinking.” The sadness in his voice made me turn toward him. I shouldn’t have. As always, at this distance, when I looked into his eyes, my hormones overtook my brain. But I was still upset, and I couldn’t speak. “Please stay. I think you’re amazing. I want to be with you.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that if he didn’t respect my job, didn’t respect me, we were doomed. But it didn’t matter. If love was a farce, if we were ultimately doomed no matter what we did, why fight about something so meaningless now? Clearly, agreeing to give things a shot had been a mistake. But that didn’t mean I needed to storm out. We only had a few hours left, and I didn’t want to spend them alone in my room being pissed off.

  I pulled him close to me. If we kept kissing, everything else would fade away. The jeans I’d been struggling into slid down my legs, and I let him lead me back to the bedroom. The pizza could wait.

  Chapter 17

  Hours later, I lay in bed, watching the sun peek over the horizon. Beside me, Cody slept peacefully, but I tossed and turned, not sure what to do. He was cute, sure. He also infuriated me. Made me feel things I’d never imagined. But he seemed to expect that after a couple of days together, I’d give up the blog and settle down in Boston. That made no sense. He’d also given me the best orgasms of my life. Like seventeen of them. But he didn’t understand my career, and didn’t seem to be content to sit around waiting for me to come back into town. Not that he should have to. We should’ve talked about all this stuff earlier, before our first time. I’d wanted him so badly, I’d ignored all the reasons it would never work.

  We’d put our argument on hold, but it wasn’t over. The more I thought about it, the more ending things in the morning felt like the best course of action. He’d go back to Boston, find someone who lived there, and the two of them could live happily ever after. I’d go back to my wandering ways, gallivanting around the country. I’d find a few more sponsors and take on the rest of the world. Someday, with luck, I’d be able to forget all about the perfect bubble we’d temporarily created in this Chicago building.

  Stifling a groan of frustration, I rolled over and grabbed my phone. Maybe I should go now. We had a good night, and there might be time for more in the morning, but I’d sleep much better in my own bed, even a rented one. That way, my tossing and turning wouldn’t wake Cody.

  Half an hour. If I were still wide awake in half an hour, I’d write a note and take off. If I wanted to avoid saying goodbye, I refused to admit it to myself.

  Three dozen notifications popped up on my phone. They must have officially announced the players moving on to the finals. Which meant I had a ton of condolences guaranteed to make me cry. No, thanks.

  With a sigh, I closed out my text messages and moved to email. Most of these messages were spam, which I welcomed after considering the alternative. Ugh. Maybe checking my phone wasn’t such a great idea. All I wanted to do was put the pillow over my head and leave it there until morning.

  The phone buzzed in my hand, and Shannon’s face popped up on the screen. She rarely called instead of texting, especially not in the middle of the night. Something must be wrong. My heart pounded. What if something happened to Holly? Maybe Lucas went after her or got her arrested or something. Not wanting to wake Cody, I snuck into the bathroom before answering.

  “Where have you been?” My best friend demanded. “And why are you whispering?”

  “I’m not,” I whispered. “I just, um…. My throat’s sore from talking so much during the tournament.”

  “I don’t believe you, and I want the deets later, but now’s not the time.”

  The sharpness in her voice took off the last hazy remnants of the beer and afterglow. This wasn’t a condolence call, as I suspected. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s your dad.”

  My blood ran cold. In a single heartbeat, a million thoughts went through my head. Mass shooting. Heart attack. Drunk driver. Terrorist attack in Boston. T crash. I had so many questions, but I couldn’t get any of them out.

  Luckily, Shannon didn’t make me wait. “He had an accident. He was working late in the garage and a car slipped off the lift. Landed on his leg.”

  “Oh my god.” This was all my fault. If I hadn’t been trying to talk him into taking a vacation, he wouldn’t have been working so many extra hours to pay for it. After driving my mother away, I nearly killed my father. I choked back a sob, but Shannon noticed.

  “He’s going to be fine. I just wanted you to know.” The fact that she called me in the middle of the night, six times according to my phone, suggested she wasn’t being entirely truthful about how “fine” Dad was.

  “Why didn’t he call me?” The words were only halfw
ay out of my mouth before I realized I knew the answer. He had. My phone showed a ton of missed calls, because I’d decided to spend the evening having sex instead of calling home. Maybe if I’d called earlier, he’d have been on the phone instead of working himself to death. Or if I’d been there, we could’ve been out to dinner or playing a game. Either way, if I were a better daughter, this wouldn’t have happened. “How is he?”

  “He’s in a lot of pain. The car didn’t crush the bone, thankfully, but the break is pretty bad. They’ll have to pin it.”

  The words flew by in a blur. I barely registered them. I made some sort of noise, which she thankfully took as a sign to keep talking.

  “Jim was at the garage when it happened, and he called 911. He tried your cell first, but you were probably out with the other gamers.” Oh, I’d been with another gamer, all right. What a jerk I was. She continued, “When you didn’t answer, your dad asked him to call Holly, since she’s staying at your house. Holly called me after she couldn’t get a hold of you, either. We’ve been calling ever since. We’re at the hospital.”

  Relief poured through me, both at knowing he was getting help and because I had such great friends. “Is he…?”

  “Going to be fine.” Thank goodness for friends who can read your mind. “Holly lied and said we’re his daughters so they’d let us in. I had to stop her before she went into a whole spiel about different mothers and that’s why we don’t look alike.”

  I giggled. “Well, you are like sisters to me.”

  “We love you, too,” Shannon said. “Anyway, again, he should be fine. Don’t worry. I’ll have him call you as soon as he gets out of surgery. Where are you headed tomorrow?”

  “Home, of course.” As if I’d go anywhere else while Dad lay in a hospital bed. “Right now, actually.”

  “He wouldn’t want you to cancel your trip and come home. When he wakes up, he’ll be pissed.”

  “You know, I don’t care right now. My trip can be rescheduled. I’ll be on the next flight to Logan.”

 

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