Bad Game_A Geeky New Adult Romance Read online

  Dinner.

  Nick hummed to himself as he packed up his figures, his pencils, his gridded sheet. So much stuff, but everything he lugged here added another dimension to the experience. Every time he packed up his car, he vowed to take a little less next time, whatever he didn’t use. But when the next week rolled around, chances were he’d bring more than ever.

  The dice clinked as he threw them in his bag: shimmering blue, gold swirled with red, solid forest green. He checked his phone. Eight forty-five. Perfect. Enough time to load his car up and be on time for Penny.

  He glanced over at her for the thousandth time that night. He kept thinking—or was it hoping?—that he felt her watching, but she never seemed to be. Her blue eyes were usually trained on her phone or her desk, busily working away on something that he doubted was work for the center. A curtain of long, straight blond hair hid exactly what she was doing most of the time. Her crisp white button-up and soft gray corduroys were the same as she usually wore, a uniform of sorts. Nothing out of the ordinary for her, even if it was sharp enough to be interview attire for most girls he knew.

  Was he reading too much into this? Dinner after work wasn’t much of a date. She could easily be thinking of it as between friends, casual acquaintances. Which was pretty much all they were.

  And while he’d tried to look presentable because he’d be seeing Penny, he’d also shoveled snow for hours before leaving and wasn’t exactly looking his best. Should he have tried for another night?

  But waiting sounded awful.

  He’d never gotten many words out of himself in her presence, and tonight, it had been so easy. What if it never happened again? What if next week they went back to polite pleasantries and silence? What if neither of them broke through again? He’d had to act while he could, imperfect situation or not.

  He reached for his keys he’d left… hmm, where had he left them? He could have sworn they were here on the table. He could have sworn he’d seen them only a minute ago. But… they were nowhere on the table.

  They were nowhere anywhere.

  “Thanks for coming out in the snow tonight,” Bob said, approaching.

  “No ice cream?” Nick replied. His players had promptly headed off to the “late night” ice cream event for those who could stay awake for it, all aflutter when he’d said he couldn’t join them because he was having dinner with Penny. Hadn’t Bob gone with them?

  “Oh, I’m headed over, but it looked like something was wrong. Everything okay?”

  Nick frowned, folding his arms across his chest. “Well, no. I can’t find my darn keys.”

  “Well, do you need them to eat dinner? You weren’t going to drive anywhere.”

  Nick shrugged. “I guess not. I hadn’t figured that out yet.”

  “Penny lives nearby. She’ll know where to go. Why don’t you go catch up with her and I’ll look for your keys? You have a Volvo, right?”

  Hmm. If he stopped now, he could be early to their almost-date. He wasn’t typically an early kind of guy, except for dates. Not annoyingly early. Just enough to show it was important to him. He craned his neck, trying to see if Penny was at her desk, if she was ready to leave or still working.

  She wasn’t there.

  “Go on, go. I’ll pack up. Doc probably thinks I should have less ice cream anyway.” Bob winked at him and started opening one of the boxes Nick had already packed up, presumably to search for the keys.

  “Thanks, Uncle Bob. Look for a red dragon claw keychain, and at least one purple rabbit’s foot.” He grabbed his coat. So much for Mom’s dismembered animal foot bringing him luck. “You want to call me when you find them?”

  Bob nodded. “Go on, kid. Knock her dead.” His eyes glittered with amusement.

  Nick narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “You know exactly what I mean. You two are always mooning over each other. I’d tell you to take her dancing, but I hear they don’t do that anymore.” Bob grinned.

  Not in the polite and social sense that Bob remembered it, no. Would Penny ever want to go dancing? He couldn’t imagine her coming out of a club, dressed like it was eighty degrees even in a snowstorm, stumbling down the sidewalks in extremely hot, extremely impractical shoes. Penny wore smart shoes. Shoes he couldn’t help but thinking of as sexy, but… he couldn’t imagine her in spiked stiletto platforms. Nothing like Ashley used to wear.

  And that was exactly what he liked about her.

  So Bob had him figured out. “Wait—us two? I mean, I’ve noticed her recently, but…”

  “Recently?” Bob gave him the side-eye. “I’d say it’s been at least three months.”

  Nick swallowed. They had been playing for four. Nick didn’t really want to admit it, since he’d finally broken things off with Ashley only three months ago, but the truth was that he had “noticed” Penny pretty much right away. He hadn’t been sure if these members of the Greatest Generation would like the game, but one look at her, and he’d been determined to make it work. At least for one more week. One more chance to walk past her again, smile at her while he signed in, struggle to think of something to say.

  “All right, maybe it’s been a bit longer than that,” he admitted. “But wait—you noticed something about her too?”

  Bob grinned. “She’s not so quiet around everyone else.”

  He blinked. “She’s not?”

  “Nope. And she watches you when she thinks no one’s looking. Trust me, Nick. I may be headed to a walker one day or another, but I know women. I’ve loved a few, for a lot longer than you have, and that one likes what she sees. Now promise me you’ll be a gentleman.”

  “I’d never be anything but, Uncle Bob.” He smiled as he shook Bob’s outstretched hand. He and Bob didn’t necessarily have the same definition of what a gentleman was, but Nick could certainly promise to live up to his own standard.

  He was going to do his absolute best not to screw this up.

  Chapter 3

  When Penny returned from the restroom, having made her best effort with the lip gloss she’d been lucky to find in her purse, Nick’s lean form was leaning against the reception desk.

  His back was to her as he waved to someone heading out. Most of the visitors were leaving the retirement community activity center for the night. He had his jacket on already, one of those puffy down ones in a fluorescent orange. Had he been waiting long? Hell. She took one more deep, steadying breath, then headed into the desk area for her bag.

  He turned. “Hey! Guess what, I can’t find my keys anywhere. Uncle Bob offered to look for them for me.”

  She tilted her head. “Bob is your uncle?”

  “Sort of. I can explain over dinner. But is there… somewhere good we can walk to? Probably better than driving in this madness anyway. Maybe the plows will have gone through by the time we’re done?”

  She sincerely hoped they hadn’t. She hoped they ran out of salt and the roads were impassible even for plows and Bob never found his keys. Ever!

  Wow. The wave of ill wishes was not her typical style. So… she really hoped he was stuck here? With her? Was this really her plan? Did she have it in her to lure him to her apartment somehow?

  Insanity. Talking to him had been nigh on impossible three hours ago. Dinner was enough. Her apartment was a ridiculous dream. Why not wish for winning the lottery while she was at it? Maybe they wouldn’t even make it through dinner before he found somewhere else to be.

  And yet, if opportunity came knocking… who was she to turn it away?

  She hurried to answer his question. “Yeah, there’s plenty of places nearby. Are you going to come back here then? When he finds the keys?” If he finds them. Perhaps someone had stolen Nick’s car. Hmm, that one seemed like she was going a bit far. And there would be police reports he’d have to file, keeping him from her apartment.

  Nick nodded. He was smiling still, even up to his eyes. He seemed genuinely happy to see her.

  “Okay, well, I’ll leave this bastar
d here then,” she said, pushing the bag under the desk.

  He snorted. “Is it heavy? I can carry it if you want.”

  “Oh, no, it’s fine. I don’t need it.” She grabbed her coat from the hook on the wall behind her. She tucked her phone and wallet into her pocket and rounded the desk area. “But yes, it is heavy.”

  “Well, I would usually try to pick a place, but do you have anywhere in mind?” He started forward as she reached him, clearly with some goal in mind. Ah, the door. He opened it with a grand flourish and a mock bow, and she let out a slight giggle as she marched past him out into the snow.

  “Usually, huh?” What exactly did that mean? Like, when he usually set up a date? Oh, God, how was she ever going to figure out if this was a date or not? He said nothing in reply, thrusting his hands into his coat pockets as he caught up to her side. She tapped her chin with a gloved hand. “Hmm, let me think.”

  Dates. Dates. What to eat on dates. She hadn’t gone on a ton of them, but food that caused awkward bodily interactions was probably not ideal. Indian might not be the best choice, although that was one of her favorites. There were decent burgers at the diner, but it was also heavy fare. Hmm, Wednesday night meant Vi was doing Tarot at Eden. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Eden was also a lot darker than a diner, and quieter, and… more intimate. More like where you’d go on a date. A shiver ran down her back.

  Was she really up for suggesting a place where half the seats were only pillows?

  She glanced at him beside her, at the sharp, intelligent glint in his eyes, the fine profile he cut against the frosty parking lot. Oh, yes. Yes, she was. “Well, there’s Jake’s Diner. Or Eden is pretty good, if you like veggie and vegan food. I have a friend doing Tarot readings there tonight.”

  “Wow, really? That’s fine with me. I eat everything.”

  “Okay, it’s just down here. Do you want to get your cards read? I’m sure she’ll read ours for free if you want.”

  He glanced at her sharply at the word “ours,” something unreadable in his gaze. Was that overreaching? Was she freaking him out? Probably. But the expression had almost seemed like… hope. “What’s the worst that could happen?” he said, smiling. “Sure.”

  She tore her eyes away from him. She should be watching the sidewalk anyway to make sure she didn’t face-plant and imprint herself as a graceless klutz in his mind forever after.

  They walked in silence for a moment. A dark-colored SUV passed at a snail’s pace, still throwing slush at the sidewalk. Seeing its approach, he reached out, took her shoulder, and guided her to the inside of the street, switching places with her. Luckily, he dodged the incoming slush in the process. His hand lingered on her shoulder for a second, throwing a rush of delight through her. Was he going to leave it there? But a moment later, his hand retreated back into his pocket.

  Oh, Sir Dreamy. You’re even sort of chivalrous. Perhaps a lot chivalrous, because hey, the night was young. She swallowed. She tried to think of herself as an independent woman, and she didn’t particularly like the implication that because he was a man, he ought to get slush splattered on him, or the idea that somehow having a vagina meant that she deserved not to get slushed. Ideally, neither of them would be pelted with dirty snow. But… given that he had taken the initiative, it was terribly sweet. If this lasted beyond tonight, if they ever went on a second or third or fourth date—or dare she dream more than that—she’d show him he didn’t have to sacrifice or suffer for her. Couldn’t they be equal in all things? Even in suffering, even in inconveniently being pelted with snow?

  But hardly anyone cared enough to notice snow splashing in her direction, let alone actively protect her from it. Her mother and Cass had always cared when it suited them, more than when Penny really needed it. She didn’t look at him, afraid her gaze would reveal too much.

  “What’s in the bag?” he asked instead.

  “Bag?”

  “Your bag you left at the retirement center.”

  “Oh.” She blushed. “Art supplies. It’s just that it’s rather boring work, and I don’t really have many people to deal with most days, and…” She trailed off, struggling to think of a justification.

  “Cool. What kind of art do you do? I’m assuming the painting stays at home, or are there acrylics in there?” He smiled, his brown eyes bright and warm.

  She blinked. He… knew what acrylics were? He’d remembered what she’d said about painting? He asked you a question, she reminded herself. He’s waiting for an answer, not for you to stare into his eyes dreamily. “Uhhh. C-colored pencils,” she stammered. “Not my favorite. Most of my favorites… don’t travel well. Messy. Impractical.” Like the entire hobby, and the intensity of her love for it. Highly impractical.

  “What are your favorites?”

  She shrugged, trying not to reveal the joyful chaos under her surface at these questions. Instead she answered obediently, soberly, a little afraid he might discover her silliness. Smart girls didn’t spend their time on these things. Surely, he wanted a smart girl, didn’t he? Some guys didn’t, but surely Nick would. Ashley was sure brilliant. “Pastels. Charcoal. I really love tactile tools. Ones you can rub and shape with your hands, feel the roughness of the paper,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant and failing. “Feels more alive.”

  She glanced at him, trying to gauge his reaction. The light of a streetlamp silhouetted him for a moment, jaw tense, a movement in the muscles of his neck. Did he just swallow?

  Why was she focusing on such insignificant details?

  He cleared his throat. “Do you have a favorite choice of subjects?” She tilted her head at him. That wasn’t the kind of question Mom or Cass would ever ask. That was the question of another artist. The pounding of her heart, which had just eased, surged again. Could it be? Was it possible he could have as impractical a love as she did stashed away in his heart?

  “Oh, any old thing,” she lied. “Although… I do like flowers.” No, that sounded silly. Something smarter. “And dragons.”

  They quieted while they carefully crossed the street. While most of the sidewalks had been dutifully attended to by nearby owners in the last few hours, the road was in worse shape. Only a few cars had left any tracks. In fact, there were probably more footprints in the snow than tire tracks.

  “Just a little farther,” she said. “That red door right up there.”

  Again, he jogged ahead a few steps and opened the door.

  “Penny!” Tamira called even as heat rushed out of the restaurant and Penny scampered inside. “And—who is this?”

  Penny blushed. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

  “I’m Nick.” He held out a hand and shook Tamira’s firmly.

  “Nice to see you out, Penny. Nice to meet you, Nick. No takeout tonight?”

  Nick raised an eyebrow. Penny blushed even harder, something she hadn’t thought possible. “Not tonight, thanks. A table for two, please.”

  “Sure.” Tamira studied her screen, its white light casting her lovely dark features into relief. Her purple lipstick was an amazing shade. Penny wished she had half the boldness with color on her face as she did on the paper. Or half Tamira’s boldness would do too, perhaps.

  “Is Vi reading tonight?”

  “Oh, she couldn’t make it through the snow. Although I think she just doesn’t want to leave Jack on a night like tonight.”

  Penny smiled. “Probably not. New boyfriend,” she said in explanation.

  His eyes widened, clearly not understanding. What did he think she’d meant?

  “Vi has a new boyfriend—Jack. Not much incentive to go out, I guess. Not that I would know.”

  “I’ll be right back. Let me check one thing.” There was a glint in Tamira’s eye. Oh, Lord, this could be bad. Perhaps she shouldn’t have gone somewhere she knew people.

  “We both apparently had some incentive to go out,” he said as Tamira vanished. He glanced back at her with that meaningful look in his eyes.

&nb
sp; “Well, I had to work,” she said, regretting it almost immediately.

  “Oh, of course.” His eyes twinkled. “And I absolutely could not have let Uncle Bob down. They’re dying to get back to town and level up.”

  Silence stretched between them for a moment, his gaze fixed on her, hers darting around to look just about anywhere else.

  The inner door chimed as Tamira reappeared. “Follow me, you two.”

  Penny did not like the sound of that. She trudged after Tamira, regretting every choice of the night. Tam led them to a very dark corner floor booth, the kind with only crimson pillows on the floor as seats, a black lacquer backboard, and a low table with golden inlay. None of the tables nearby were seated. Much of the restaurant was empty in fact, probably because of the snow.

  “Will this work?” Tam asked.

  Penny hesitated, not having any idea if this was a huge mistake in Nick’s book.

  “Looks great,” said Nick, and he went around Tamira to the far side of the booth, leaving the closest seat for her.

  She sank down onto the pillow with relief.

  Tamira smiled. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Green tea, please,” Penny said. Something warm to take off the chill of the storm.

  Tamira gave her a funny look but wiped it away quickly.

  “What?” Was that not something you should order on a date? What about an after-work dinner with someone you hardly knew and had no idea where you stood with?

  “I’ll have the same,” Nick said quickly, and Tamira scooted away toward the kitchen.

  Penny wanted to melt against him, fairly certain he had only ordered tea because she had and not because he would ever do it on his own. She did get so bold as to scoot her pillow two inches closer to him.

  She had to figure out if this was a romantic thing, pronto, before she drove herself crazy. She busied herself with taking off her coat and purse instead. Did her usual white button-up say date as well as work? Maybe she should unbutton it a little…

  “It was the darnedest thing, I swear my keys were right there.” Nick was totally at ease. If he had seemed slightly nervous earlier, those signs had vanished now.