Make Your Move

by Laura Heffernan

  “Good thing there’s no chance of you beating me, then,” Craig returned.

  The trash talk made me chuckle, but it was time to go. With only the tiniest bit of regret, I said my good-byes, then went into the kitchen to get my dinner.

  Zombie-like, I staggered into my room, clutching a paper plate with pizza, wings, and celery sticks. I didn’t even want to be in the same room as anyone else. It occurred to me that I should probably work on fixing the problems with Speakeasy, but I’d run out of mental energy. Anything other than pulling up YouTube videos on my tablet and noshing on my dinner took too much effort. Especially since I still had no idea where my newest game was going.

  As I pondered my options for the evening, my phone beeped, reminding me that I hadn’t answered Gwen’s texts from earlier. Her message was short and to the point, on the thread that included Holly. Speaking of bonding, how’s the new roommate?

  The message reminded me that I’d never told my friends about Megan. Not that she existed, they knew that, but that we worked together. After running into her and Tyler in the bookstore, I’d avoided the topic, essentially hoping they broke up before he moved in.

  No dice, unfortunately. This strategy proved every bit as effective as covering my ears and singing “La la la, I can’t hear you” at the top of my lungs. But now, not mentioning the connection seemed weird, and it would only get more so the longer we didn’t talk about it.

  However, I still needed to eat my dinner, and I didn’t want to text while eating chicken wings. Leaning the phone up against a stack of books on my nightstand, I started a video chat with them both to let me gossip while eating.

  “Ohhh, going so well you need to talk in person?” Gwen teased.

  In response, I rolled my eyes and waved a chicken wing at her, already chewing. Nana had taught me not to talk with my mouth full.

  “So what’s up?” Holly asked.

  “I just got back from a work thing,” I said, “and I was thinking… have any of you met Tyler’s new girlfriend yet?”

  “This is what you think about at work functions?” Gwen asked.

  “We work together,” I said.

  “Yeouch. Awkward,” Holly said. “What happened?”

  “Nothing, really,” I said. “I ran into them at the Harvard bookstore a couple of weeks ago. Have either of you met her?”

  “Cody and I did,” Gwen said. “The four of us got drinks after I got back from Baltimore. I think it was right after they started dating? A few days before my trip to Nova Scotia.”

  Not wanting to steer their opinions, I asked, “What did you think of her?”

  “She seemed nice enough. Doesn’t play games, though,” Gwen said.

  “I don’t even understand that. She works for a board game manufacturer.” I didn’t mention that she got the job through Daddy, because there was no sense in poisoning my friends against Megan before they got to know her. Even though I didn’t like her, she deserved for Tyler’s friends to give her a chance.

  “Maybe she doesn’t bring work home?” Holly said. “Some people are like that.”

  “I guess,” I said. “But how can Tyler date someone who doesn’t want to play board games with him?”

  “She’s really hot,” Gwen said.

  “It’s not that uncommon for couples to have different interests,” Holly pointed out. “He’s got us to play games with, plus his poker group.”

  “I guess so,” I said doubtfully. Tyler and I spent so much of our friendship talking about games, it was tough to picture him dating someone he couldn’t do that with. Then again, we probably knew about 8 percent of each other. Maybe he and Megan enjoyed foreign films or cooking together or bird-watching.

  “Or sex,” Gwen said. I hadn’t realized I’d spoken out loud until she responded. “You know, the one thing he can’t do with his other friends.”

  I sighed. “Fair enough, I suppose. I just… the thing is, at work, she’s awful.”

  From the expressions on their faces, if we’d been sitting in the same room, Gwen and Holly would’ve exchanged a look at my comment. “No, this isn’t jealousy. We’ve worked together for years and—”

  A knock sounded on my door. Feeling guilty for talking about Tyler while he sat less than twenty feet away, I jumped about a foot. But he couldn’t hear me. I spoke quietly and this place had old wooden doors. The half-empty paper plate in my hand jerked, and I moved in time to avoid dousing myself in a pile of grease and buffalo sauce.

  “Everything okay?” Holly asked.

  “Yeah. I’ve gotta go.”

  In a rush, I turned the tablet off. After smoothing my skirt over my knees and moving into a sitting position, I called for Tyler to come in.

  He hovered in the doorway, leaning on the frame. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean for my friends to send you scurrying to your room.”

  “No, it’s fine,” I said. “Just had such a long day that I needed some alone time.”

  “Got it. Sorry to bother you.”

  “Wait. I didn’t mean you. Just… a crowd of strangers was too much.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I get it. Well, the guys have cleared out, so don’t feel like you have to stay caged up.”

  “I should work on my game for a bit, now that I ate.” I removed my smudged glasses and cleaned them, willing my mind to wake up a bit more. “They left already? How long have I been in here?”

  “Our games don’t tend to run late. Tom’s got a new baby and Skippy gets up for work at something stupid like five o’clock in the morning, so we wrap up fairly early.”

  “Good to know. I’d love to join you next time you’re here, if work doesn’t completely drain me.”

  “You’re on,” he said. Then after a moment, he asked, “Want to talk about it?”

  Maybe it was a bad idea, but something about Tyler made me want to say yes. Gwen and Holly listened to plenty of rants over the years, but it might be nice to get a guy’s perspective. Sure, I complained to Ryan at work. He was too close to the situation for either of us to give the other any useful advice. We mostly just made up creative curses using Megan’s and Dennis’s names.

  Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I stood. “Yes. Let me just grab a drink first.”

  In the living room, Tyler listened as I reminded him about Jameson’s pending retirement, how badly I wanted the promotion, and my concern that he might pick Dennis the Dick instead. Per the Pact, I didn’t mention Megan. Of course, that meant my thoughts were a bit disjointed. Tyler asked a few questions, but mostly let me ramble.

  When I finished, he was quiet for so long, I started to wonder if I’d bored him to sleep. Or made him rethink his offer to help. But finally, he spoke.

  “I thought you wanted to start your own company, be your own boss. Isn’t that why you made The Haunted Place?”

  “It is, and I do, but I’m not ready. Before I can leave my job, I need at least a couple of other games on the shelves,” I said. “Unfortunately, I have no idea what to work on next.”

  “Still? You mentioned that before I moved in, but you haven’t said anything so I guess I assumed it got better.”

  “I wish,” I said. “Part of the problem is that I need to come up with a killer new idea for work at the same time. Forced inspiration rarely works out for me. Trying to come up with two concepts at once is draining.”

  “Yeah, I can see that,” he said. “Can I help?”

  The biggest problem of all was his girlfriend, and I simply couldn’t tell him that. Asking him to break up with her was out of the question. Even if I thought he might do it, she’d only get worse. She might even do something to wreck my chances at getting that promotion. What a mess.

  To my horror, tears started trickling down my cheeks. I hadn’t realized how tired and stressed out all of this had made me until I sat down and started talking abo
ut it. Poor Tyler. He didn’t need me breaking down on him.

  To his credit, he took the tears in stride. Setting his wineglass on the coffee table, he clasped one of my hands in both of his. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. Look at me.”

  Our eyes met. His held only concern, no trace of the derision or judgment that I showed such “feminine” emotion. I leaned against him, letting the warmth of his body comfort me. After a moment, he put one hand on my back, holding me. My body racked with sobs as I let loose all of the stress and frustration that consumed me.

  For a long time, Tyler said nothing, just stroking my hair and murmuring sympathetic sounds. His calmness, his strength, made me wish I could stay there holding him forever.

  Finally, I got control of myself and sat upright. He offered me a tissue with one hand and my wineglass with the other. I opted for the tissue. “Thanks.”

  “Feeling better?”

  “A little. I still don’t know what to do.”

  “Sometimes you’ve got to let it all out before you can move forward. But it seems that your first step is to come up with a new game and form a business plan. I can help you.”

  “You don’t have to do that.” In the back of my mind, a voice whispered that this was a bad idea. For one thing, his crush wasn’t that long ago. I shouldn’t take advantage of any lingering feelings to help myself. Even though Megan made it seem like they were moments away from picking out china patterns, she’d been known to exaggerate to make herself look better. But also, she probably wouldn’t react well if the two of us started a project together. She’d made it clear at the bar earlier that she didn’t trust me around her boyfriend.

  Tyler kept his word by keeping his relationship out of our apartment. We never talked about his dating life, and he left the room when making phone calls. Asking him for details would violate the Pact. I hated compartmentalizing our friendship, but didn’t know what else to do. Short of telling him that his girlfriend was awful to me at work, which also violated the Pact.

  “I want to. Friends help each other.” He paused. “Besides, I spend most of my day looking at spreadsheets and crunching numbers. Please, give me something interesting to do.”

  His words made me smile. Impulsively, I leaned in and gave him a hug. His warmth enveloped me. Then he inhaled deeply, which made me wonder if I’d made a mistake. Slowly, I sat up. “Thanks for this. I’m glad you moved in.”

  “Me, too.” He picked up the remote. “Want to watch some Twitch before bed? Good streamers playing Super Mario Maker 2 helps me relax.”

  I grinned at him. “Thanks. Next time. What I need now is to get some sleep.”

  “Sleep well. There’s nothing better for making you feel human again.”

  “Thanks. You, too.”

  He leaned back on the couch and picked up the remote, so I headed for my room. For a moment, I’d been worried he might try to kiss me again. Maybe we needed to have a talk, make sure his feelings really had evaporated. I’d thought so, until he smelled my hair.

  What a mess.

  * * * *

  Like Tyler said, a good night’s sleep made me feel like a new person. Work might be stressful, but I had a good shot at the promotion. The kids who play-tested my game absolutely adored it. Not only did they have a blast playing, but several of them made astute observations we could use to improve. Little kids didn’t mince words when you asked for their opinion, and my group (along with their parents) identified some opportunities to make the game even better.

  Once this game was completed, I could go through my document full of ideas, shine up the best ones, and present them to Jameson. My interview was scheduled for next week, which gave me plenty of time to get ready.

  Meanwhile, instead of making myself feel bad for not having a new idea, I could work on marketing The Haunted Place. Once I found a way to get some press for my existing game, maybe my side business could get a much-needed cash infusion. Having a real opportunity on the back burner made it easier to deal with the frustrating people at work.

  Preoccupied with these thoughts, I hurried down the hall, hoping to get into the shower before Tyler woke up. Nana would be waiting to hear about yesterday’s adventures, and I wanted to get down there as soon as possible.

  My brain barely registered that the bathroom door stood mostly closed until I’d already grasped the handle and pushed. A shout reached my ears, but it was too late. Tyler stood in the bathroom, body glistening from the shower, completely naked.

  Shock froze me in place. My mouth opened to apologize, but no sound came out. Naturally, my eyes skimmed over his body, from his broad shoulders down his largely hairless chest, all the way to the tips of his toes. Thankfully, he wasn’t as slow to respond, grabbing a towel quickly from the rack and wrapping it around himself. Unfortunately, his movements drew my attention to the one part of him I should never, ever look at. But I couldn’t help myself. I might be demi, but I’m not dead. I’m still curious about things.

  “Eyes up here,” he said, in a perfect imitation of something I’d wanted to say to my coworkers a billion times. The towel wrapped around his waist, interrupting my view so effectively I felt a small flutter of disappointment.

  My face flamed. “I’m so sorry. I was distracted. I didn’t know you were in here.”

  “It’s my fault. I should’ve locked the door.” He gestured toward the opening behind me. “If you don’t mind, I need to get dressed.”

  Finally, my limbs unfroze. I jumped. “Oh! Yes. Let me get out of here.”

  “Or, you could move, and the bathroom is all yours. I’m done.”

  Right. Move. I could do that. I stepped back into the hallway, resisting the urge to turn and dart into my room like a scared rabbit. He stepped toward me, not meeting my eyes. I shuffled back farther, and he turned and headed for his room.

  “I really am sorry,” I called after him.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “Stuff happens. I don’t want this to change anything between us.”

  We were both adults. I knew better than to run to my friends and giggle that I’d seen his “thing” like when I was in the sixth grade. Of course, this one was much… No. Not something I could think about. “Right. Let’s never talk about this.”

  “Sounds good.”

  His bedroom door slammed shut, effectively ending the conversation. My initial instinct was to fly back to my room, grab my phone, and text my mortification to Holly and Gwen. But if I didn’t continue into the bathroom, Tyler would know exactly what I was doing. Somehow, him knowing that I was talking about what happened seemed more embarrassing than actually walking in on him. Not that I should be the embarrassed one. It’s not like he saw me naked. But he did see me ogling him.

  I closed the bathroom door, locked it, then checked and double-checked that it wouldn’t open. All secure. But that didn’t stop me from hurrying through my shower, one eye on the door, wondering how Tyler would have reacted if the tables had been turned.

  Living with a cishet guy made everything more complicated. Especially a guy who used to have a crush on me. Work had become so uncomfortable over the past few weeks, the last thing I needed was for my home life to also become awkward.

  Thinking about work reminded me of Megan. Oh, no. If she found out I forgot to knock, she’d probably demand Tyler move out. That was the last thing I wanted. He made me smile. I liked having someone around to talk board games with at all hours of the night. Watching Twitch with him before bed when he was home had turned into the highlight of my day.

  Tyler and I got along well. We had similar interests, not just board games but escape rooms and Twitch and stuff like that. I’d been looking forward to joining Tyler’s poker game, and disappointed when my job ruined the evening for me. Not to mention the little things, like how Tyler was looking out for job opportunities for me, always made extra for me when cooking dinner, and texted if
he wasn’t coming home at night so I’d know to bolt the door. I didn’t want to lose him.

  Once my embarrassment cooled, I’d just have to ask him not to say anything. We could be grown-ups about this. Shrugging off thoughts of doom, I turned off the shower and reached for my robe. The obvious solution to this dilemma lay less than five hundred feet away: Nana’s pancakes. They cured everything.

  Chapter 8

  “The Beatles said love is all you need. I say you need love, health care, affordable housing, and carbs.” —Nana

  As expected, Nana made me feel instantly better. She and Michael were already sitting at the table when I arrived, a steaming stack of fluffy goodness on a plate between them. Coffee percolated on the stove. Seeing their domestic bliss gave me warm, fuzzy feelings.

  “So, how’s the new roommate?” Michael asked as I fixed myself a plate.

  Luckily, I stood in the kitchen drizzling syrup when he asked, so they couldn’t see my face turn red. “So far, so good.”

  “He’s very polite,” Nana said. “Saw me out in the garden last week and offered to help me pull weeds again. You never do that.”

  “I’d love to help, Nana, you know that. Just point me at the plants you don’t really like, and I’ll overwater or otherwise accidentally kill them for you.”

  “Shush. It’s not too late to write you out of the will.” She smiled, taking the bite out of her words.

  “You wouldn’t. You love me too much. No one else taste-tests all your bizarre creations.”

  “Tyler might.”

  “True, but would he drive you to your doctors’ appointments?” Even though I knew Nana was kidding, I changed the subject. After what I’d seen earlier, I really preferred not to talk about my roommate. “How are you, Michael? My grandmother treating you well?”

  “Very well.” He beamed at me before glancing at her. She nodded, and the two of them clasped hands on the table. “In fact, she’s agreed to do me the very great honor of becoming my wife.”