Good Game_A Gamer Romance Page 3

“Games?” she said. “You wanted to play?”

  That’s what he’d be doing if they were really dating? Well… that actually sounded quite good. And plausible. And what she’d want to be doing.

  Okay, maybe that part turned her on a little bit.

  “There’s a system in my room, but I thought you’d be more comfortable down here. No one will be in my room though—or at least I can kick them out. You want to do that? Or we could go mingle with the guests.”

  “That sounds horrifying.”

  “My room? Games? Or mingling.”

  “Well, it is a console. But I meant mingling.”

  The real smile returned for a brief moment. “I have a PC rig here too, but we couldn’t both play. I figured you wouldn’t want to just watch.”

  She let out a bark of laughter. “Well, you could just watch me.”

  A quirk of his eyebrows said he hadn’t missed the slight innuendo. “You want a coaching session?”

  She shook her head and gave him a firm “No, thank you.”

  He only laughed.

  “No LAN room in this mansion?”

  “I wish.” The real smile broadened.

  Oh. She got it now. This was why he’d picked her. It was not necessarily anything specifically about her but that… they were from the same tribe. That she understood basic facts about his whole career and who he really was. Too bad there weren’t more women in the tribe for him to choose from. “I will fumble my way through button-mashing as long as you keep your critiques to yourself.”

  “No guarantees.”

  “Remember, when I’m in the room, I can punch you for the nasty shit you say.”

  “I don’t say… nasty shit.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “I do? Let’s go. I told you nothing physical would be required of this position. Punching sounds very physical.” His eyes twinkled.

  “I should have reserved that right. Damn.”

  She followed him up two flights of stairs and did her best to ignore the fact that he had a great ass, and also great jeans. The jerks always did.

  At the top of the second stairway, a pudgy guy in a stuffy blue button-down stopped short of Sin and glanced down at their clasped hands and then at her. His eyes narrowed. Was it the hand, the bullet, or the black-and-turquoise hair?

  “Hey bro, who’s this?”

  “Frank, this is my girlfriend, Violet. Violet, this is my brother, Frank.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she said quickly, trying to sound like an eager-to-please, serious girlfriend.

  Frank just blinked at her. “Dude, I thought you were lying. Where’d you find this chick? Crazy town?” He didn’t sound convinced. His eyes kept flicking from their clasped hands to her hair to Sentinel.

  “We play DOTA togeth—”

  “Seriously? Whatever.” Frank peered closer at her. “What do you see in this slacker, huh? You want a real man, I’ll be downstairs.”

  She tilted her head in mock innocence. “Is that near crazy town?”

  “Nobody can tame crazy like me, sweetheart. And at least I will have the cash from the family business to finance your psychiatry bills. Unlike this couch-surfing loser.” Instead of waiting for them to pass, Frank forced his way down past them, and she had to plaster herself against the railing to avoid him brushing her chest. She had a feeling that was the idea.

  Sentinel cast a formidable glare after his brother. Even though it was fake—and she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself—it felt good for a guy to get protective on her behalf now and then. Or perhaps it was just because Frank appeared to be the real King of the Assholes, and Sentinel some lesser prince. Although, she hadn’t met the man that spawned these two yet.

  She wouldn’t be too attracted to Frank anytime soon. Perhaps she only liked assholes who were also scruffy gamers in hoodies. Although that had only barely applied to Max, in that he was scruffy and sometimes played Bejeweled.

  “Family business?” she asked softly.

  “My father’s business-consulting firm. From management and process improvement to marketing and PR.” He repeated it like a slogan, voice cold and eyes fiery. Frank glanced back defiantly as he weaved through the crowd toward a large, elegant kitchen. Heading to tell Daddy that Sin’s rumored girlfriend was here?

  “So, like snake-oil salesmen?”

  “They make it, they sell it, and they’ll help you sell it too. For a hefty price.”

  Frank started talking to an older man in khakis and a striped button-down. He had the strong jaw both brothers shared and neatly parted graying hair. He could certainly be the overlord of this place.

  Sin’s hard gaze stayed fixed on the kitchen. But they were standing in an odd place on the stairs.

  She tugged on his hand. “Let’s go game.”

  His rage melted. He led her down the hallway and into a room on the left, shutting the door behind them. That might have frightened her when she’d arrived, but she was glad for a barrier between her and Frank now too.

  “Are they all like that?” she muttered.

  “Yes.” He nodded, not facing her. He rested his forehead on the door. If she were really his girlfriend, she would probably go to him now and massage his shoulders or something. Comfort him. But there was no audience to impress here, so instead she folded her arms across her chest and let him have his moment while she studied the room.

  “Some of them are worse,” he added, as if he realized he should warn her. “For example, my dad could just as easily say the same thing. Probably where Frank learned it from.”

  “That’s… gross.”

  “Yeah. He’s almost sixty. Don’t be surprised if he does, though. Sorry.”

  Maybe he had also picked her because he thought she was tough, that since she handled jerks in-game, she could handle this. That was not entirely true, but it was a nice compliment if so. She put up a tough front, so she wouldn’t blame him if he believed it. He still stood with his head in his hands against the door. The various posters on his walls were more interesting anyway.

  “Wow, is this a Guild Wars collector’s edition print?”

  He roused, relief in his eyes. “Yeah. Well, GW2.”

  “Nice, I wondered what they were like. I couldn’t afford another MMO at the time. Too many classes.”

  He frowned. Maybe that slacker comment was still too fresh in his memory. Yes, probably.

  “But there’s nothing like an MMO. I can’t wait till I’m out and I can take one up again.”

  He nodded. “One-hour matches remind you to get up from the computer once in a while. And you can actually make money in tournaments.”

  “Always time for a one-hour match.” She smiled, as he did seem to be feeling better.

  “But you didn’t miss too much, it was kind of disappointing anyway. I only played for a month or two.” His eyes ran over the posters for a while, but he made no move to say or do anything else.

  “So the real question—Xbox or PS4?”

  He looked a little embarrassed. “Both. An old Wii too.”

  She should have expected as much. “Which do you prefer?”

  “I prefer Steam.”

  Now she smiled a real smile too, dammit. “Me too.” Of course he did. That’s how they knew each other. What was wrong with that? Nothing like ragging on consoles to bring PC gamers together, she supposed.

  “But like I said, no LAN room.”

  That still surprised her. All this money, and Daddy didn’t indulge golden boy’s amazing talent? Oh. Frank hadn’t exactly treated him like a golden boy. Maybe they actually didn’t get just how amazing his talent was. Oh, shit, she wasn’t saying anything.

  “You want me to pick something?” he said.

  “Yeah. Something I can mash buttons on and not care if I suck at or if you criticize my performance.”

  He propped his hands on his hips. “I would never!”

  “Yeah, right.” She glanced around. The only place to sit and play was… the bed.
Might as well give in to it, it’d be less awkward that way. She should probably take off her boots, though, but she hadn’t counted on that. Did her socks have something weird on them? Any holes? She struggled to remember.

  He had the Xbox on but was futzing with the controllers. “One’s out of batteries,” he muttered. She stood a moment longer, trying to remember if these were the gray socks that had unicorns on them, the gray socks with bullets on them, or the ones that were just gray.

  She heard footsteps in the hallway. A random passerby, or… Frank?

  She thought again of what a real couple would be doing—making out in his room. The footsteps came closer.

  Hmm. Wouldn’t that put Frank in his place? Crazy town and the slacker were getting some while he wasn’t?

  She grabbed Sin’s shoulder, turning him toward her and hoping she wouldn’t regret this. She glanced back at the door—still approaching. He followed her gaze.

  She took his head with both hands and pulled his lips against hers. By sheer habit, she opened her mouth at the last moment. He froze.

  No physical contact. The words from the contract flashed through her mind. Not required, perhaps not even desired… What if he was gay? This was a terrible idea.

  He surged into motion and kissed her back, sweeping an arm around her waist and drawing her close. Her tongue darted out and caught his, and they brushed against each other. A thrill of need ran through her. His kiss was a bonfire roaring to life, spreading out of control. His body fit against hers like a piece that had been missing, warm and different and new, and his scent was of the woods, like pine mixed with leather. He had bothered to wear—

  The door clicked open. He moved to look, and she held him a moment longer, then let go of the kiss, turning to look herself.

  Not Frank. Her stomach dropped to her feet. The older man in the striped shirt she’d eyed earlier stood in the doorway, eyebrows raised but not looking fazed. “Jack,” he said, his tone severe.

  “Yeah?” Sin drawled.

  “Janet would like an introduction to your new… what is she?”

  “This is my girlfriend, Violet.”

  A weird shiver went through her at those words.

  “Eh. Okay. Introduction—Janet.”

  “Later. We’re busy.”

  “Yeah, I saw that.” His dad glanced at the controllers in Sin’s hand. “What are you two doing in here anyway, other than the obvious? Don’t make her play that stupid shit with you. You think she wants to look at your Xbox? I’m gonna wager that’s not why she agreed to come up here.”

  “Fuck off, Dad.”

  “I’m Lawrence, by the way, young lady.”

  “Violet,” she said quickly. “And actually—” She did want to see his Xbox.

  “Do you have a job?”

  She frowned. “I’m a PhD candidate in physics at UDW, researching more efficient, ultrafast laser—”

  “Academic track, huh? Do yourself a favor and look up professors’ salaries before you get too far. I warned you. Eh, it’s probably too late for you. All right, waste your time with that idiocy if you want. The rest of us will be down here, having fun getting drunk like normal people. Don’t forget your stepmother.”

  His dad closed the door and walked away. Sin relaxed but not completely. “Asshole. She’s not my stepmother yet,” he muttered.

  Without thinking, she put her hand on his arm in comfort. His eyes followed the movement, and she froze, then dropped her hand. What was she doing?

  His gaze flicked to her mouth briefly, then away. He stared at the carpet. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

  “Don’t get stupid now, Sin. Just a job, remember?” Her voice trembled. Was she trying to convince him or herself?

  He blinked, snapped out of it. “You are a consummate professional. Very thorough… and resourceful. Exceeds expectations.”

  “That’s not what I usually hear for kissing on the job.” She had never actually kissed anyone on the job, but it made for a clever retort. Something she could never seem to find enough of around him.

  “Maybe you’re in the wrong profession.”

  “Well I’m not in any profession yet. As your father has so dutifully reminded me.”

  He waved him off. “Do you go above and beyond for all your clients?”

  No, just you. Fuck, where had that come from? Good thing she hadn’t blurted it out. “Research usually gets in the way. Lots of time in the lab. But that was an easy win.”

  That got a grin out of him, though it was a bit tormented, sheepish. He handed her a controller. “Ready for some stupid shit?”

  She snorted. “Better than their stupid shit, I should think.” She sat down on the corner of his bed and bent down, unzipping one boot. She felt his eyes on her as she did, and she’d have to be an idiot to not realize he was staring. Did he like it? Was she freaking him out? Did she pretend not to notice or call him on it? She had certainly kicked the bees’ nest by sticking her tongue in his mouth, so it wasn’t entirely fair to be annoyed at him for noticing her unzipping her black leather boots while she sat on his bed.

  And… it felt good to get noticed. Even by a junior prince of the assholes.

  She glanced up and caught his gaze, knowing the angle revealed a straight line down her cami. He met her gaze for a long moment, then seemed to remember himself and quickly broke away, kicking off his own shoes in the process. He must have forgotten there was nowhere to sit in here other than on the bed.

  She popped off the boot and unzipped the other one. She stole a furtive glance at him as he grabbed his controller and rounded the bed. Was there an extra bulge in those cargo pants, or was she imagining it? It should be awkward if he was getting frisky, gross even, considering how they’d both been clear this was going to be entirely fake. And yet she felt another little flush of heat at the thought.

  She kicked off the other boot. Of course. Gray with bullets.

  “What is it with you and bullets?” he said as she crawled toward him on the bed. Of course, just as she joined him in bed, the critical asshole side came back.

  “Do I make you uncomfortable, Sin? Do you have a problem with that?” Her voice was steel. Perhaps she wasn’t the only one who didn’t appreciate intrusions.

  “Dude, no. I was just wondering.”

  “Good.” She tried to settle beside him as well as she could, but she couldn’t just sit cross-legged in a skirt. “Do you have a blanket or anything?”

  “Yeah, sure.” He handed her an orange tiger-striped blanket. She swept it across her lap and legs so she could sit how she pleased. Their shoulders touched, the soft pillows behind them pushing them together like conspiring grannies. Or apparently dads. Although his dad probably wanted a pillow between them.

  “Bullets are a fascinating invention,” she said finally. “One of the things that got me interested in physics. Also a key component of many games, as you may have noticed. I like the connection between my great loves.”

  “Physics and gaming?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” And her mother too, who’d taught her to shoot on the back ten acres, how guns functioned, how engines worked. The bullets were celebrations, remembrances, memorials to her, as much as anything else. But that was too much for right now. Or ever.

  She braced herself for some critique or comment on how girls shouldn’t be interested in things like that. Violent things. Technical things. That’s what she deserved for agreeing to this arrangement. She’d known what she was getting into.

  No real response came, though. He only said, “Who do you want?”

  She blinked. The character chooser for a rebooted version of Mortal Kombat waited on the screen. She angled the joystick around and picked.

  “Scorpion? Really? Feisty.”

  She grinned at the screen. “I have actually played this a few times, so get ready for some brutality.”

  “I figured. It’s a classic. Shall I pick Sub-Zero?”

  “Up to you. You can’t really go
wrong with him. I just want to hear Scorpion say, ‘Get over here!’ ”

  He snickered at her impression, picked a character, and away they went.

  Six matches later, he’d won four, and she’d won two, but he hadn’t gotten any brutalities. Pretty good.

  Footsteps approached. The game was stopped, waiting for them to start the next match. He glanced at her with an inquisitive eyebrow. She shrugged, then nodded.

  He kissed her this time, and they collapsed back onto the pillows, controllers forgotten in their laps. His hand came up to touch her face, tracing up her jaw toward her ear, his fingers entwining in her hair. That seemed… more than was strictly necessary.

  The door did indeed open a minute later. “Ah, fucking geeks,” Frank swore, and he slammed the door again behind him.

  Sin’s fingers against her scalp felt good. His tongue was… possibly as talented as his fingers. She couldn’t remember a kiss that had felt as good. Her body hummed, the bonfire now a slow and steady crackle that would keep her warm through a long, cold night.

  Damn. She hadn’t counted on actually enjoying this. On actually wanting to kiss him.

  The knowledge that their intruder was long gone and they were still making out on his bed dawned on her slowly. But hell, she didn’t want to stop. He bit at her lower lip, and the heat between them built, intensified. This was probably safer than some rebound, right? At least she didn’t truly like him as a person. So much for nothing physical, though, and she should rework that stupid contract. Their glasses knocked together for a moment, and finally, they broke apart, laughing at the awkward collision.

  “Maybe I should lock that damn door,” he breathed.

  She smiled. “But then they wouldn’t see what a fine show we’re putting on.”

  Did his face fall a little? It was so slight perhaps she’d imagined it. Or… was he hoping it was not a show?

  Who was she kidding, it hadn’t been. She’d just been saving face with those words.

  His phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of his pocket, giving her a fine opportunity to eye him for confirmation. At this angle, his one knee in the air pretty much blocked her from spotting anything. Probably intentionally. Perhaps it was all a good act. Damon had said she was a terrible kisser, and Max had further expounded on her shortcomings in the sack with all the confidence of a professor, adjunct or not.