Try everything. Even things that don’t make any sense.
—The Haunted Place Player Guide
The next night, I asked Marc to meet me at the restaurant for our date instead of picking me up at Game On!. I didn’t want to prolong the evening more than necessary, and making small talk as we walked to the nearby coffee shop felt too awkward.
When he arrived, Marc leaned over to kiss me hello. I turned my face so his lips landed on my cheek. The utter lack of sensation told me I’d made the right decision. Still, a pang stabbed me as his face fell. “Did I do something wrong?”
For a long moment, I studied him before I replied. Marc was a nice guy. We had an amazing time doing escape rooms. That had been the most thoughtful date anyone ever planned for me. The conversation flowed easily, and he made me laugh. He could be a good friend. And despite the fact that he was cute…he wasn’t the one I wanted.
We could be good together. We could hit it off and probably date for a while. Years, maybe. We could get married and play games together and get along reasonably well. Maybe the two of us would be happy. He wouldn’t try to control me the way Lucas had. Marc didn’t bat an eye when I ordered a cheeseburger instead of a salad. He didn’t give backhanded compliments. I really liked him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t Nathan.
The thought of throwing myself into a relationship that didn’t excite me made me want to build a blanket fort, make a giant bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough, and settle in to watch every episode of The O.C. or The Office. I deserved better, and so did Marc.
In answer to his question, I said, “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re a really nice guy.”
The kiss of death, and we both knew it. I took a deep breath to say more, and his face fell. “You don’t have to explain.”
“I’m so sorry. I’ve had a great time these past few weeks. I really like you. There’s probably an alternate universe out there where we fall in love and get married and live happily ever after with two-point-five kids and a white picket fence.”
“What about this one?”
“In this one…I’m sorry to say, I’ve got feelings for someone else. I didn’t think it would ever amount to anything, but now it has. As much as I like you, I need to pursue it.”
He nodded, running one hand through his hair. “Well, thanks for your honesty.”
“I feel terrible.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t help how you feel. But if things don’t work out, would you hang on to my number?”
I didn’t want to give him false hope. I also didn’t want to slam the door on a sweet guy I enjoyed spending time with. After a long moment, I nodded. “Can we still be friends?”
He hugged me before turning to go. He hadn’t even managed to sit down and order dinner. And while I felt bad for hurting him, I couldn’t wait to go home and fall into Nathan’s arms.
* * * *
The next morning, I woke without an alarm, despite the lack of sunlight peeking through the curtains. Although the room remained as dark as the middle of the night, the display on my phone read almost six o’clock. I lay there for several minutes, wondering if I should get up, snuggle into Nathan to wake him, go back to sleep, or…do nothing. Since he was warm and the outside air was cool, I went with the first option. Nathan lay so peacefully, lashes inky against his skin. Like most native Bostonians, he was pretty pale this time of year. He slept on his stomach, one arm slung casually across my torso, holding me close. I had zero interest in moving.
When the alarm went off at six as usual, he yawned and pressed snooze, which I’d expected based on the number of times I used to hear his phone chime through the wall.
This morning, however, he didn’t roll over and go back to sleep. Instead, he turned to me, blinking to clear his vision. “Good morning, beautiful.”
“Good morning yourself.” I moved closer, snuggling against him, reveling in the feel of his skin against mine. A girl could definitely get used to this. He turned toward me, and I thrilled to see the effect I had on him. “Do you have to go to work right away, or do you have some time?”
“Well, I do own the business,” he said. “There must be some perks.”
Before we could talk about exploring those perks further, his phone beeped. My own device buzzed on the nightstand a moment later.
“Severe weather alert,” I said. “More than a foot of snow coming. Good thing today’s my day off.”
“Oh yeah,” he said. “I closed the shops after checking the forecast last night. My employees don’t need to travel in this—or worse, get stuck. Sorry I forgot to turn off the alarm.”
“I was already awake,” I said. “But now that you’re up, what should we do?”
His wicked smile told me that his mind had already taken the same path as mine. A full day free, together? No reason to get out of bed. We snuggled back under the covers and stayed there for several glorious hours, taking full advantage of our time together.
When we finally ventured out of bed, I made tres leches pancakes using the Star Wars molds Gwen bought Nathan for Christmas a few years ago and a recipe Mamá made for special occasions. Half an hour later, Nathan and I found ourselves back on the couch, happily ensconced in blankets, drinking Mexican hot cocoa while watching a geeky movie marathon. Outside, big, fluffy flakes fell into white piles.
By lunchtime the snow stopped, so Nathan went outside to shovel the driveway while I made grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for lunch. Not fancy, but delicious.
“This is perfect,” Nathan said after taking his first bite. “Thank you.”
“Any time. Or at least any time we find ourselves with a rare day off together.” I smiled at him. These little domestic moments excited me, knowing we could act like a couple in the cocoon of this house and not worry about getting “caught.”
We could hang out in public, of course, and we would, but Boston was ultimately a pretty small town for a “big city.” I’d never be able to hold Nathan’s hand in public or lean over to kiss him, because I’d be too afraid we might run into Gwen or Cody. Or someone might see us and mention it to them, like one of Nathan’s many well-meaning and very nosy neighbors who’d known Gwen since she was eight. We planned to tell her about us eventually, but we didn’t want her to hear it from someone else.
“You bring up an interesting point,” he said. “We almost never spend time together during the day. What do you want to do?”
I wiggled my eyebrows at him suggestively.
He laughed. “I just shoveled a foot of snow off the driveway. Give me half an hour.”
“Well, in that case, do you want to play a game?”
“Always. What are you thinking?”
I thought for a minute. “Well, we could play strip poker…”
“Except you know my tells and I’d be sitting here naked in no time, with you fully clothed,” he said.
“That’s not so bad.”
“Or we could play strip something else.”
“What do you have in mind?”
Instead of answering, he pushed back from the table. Leaving the dishes for now, I followed him to the game closet in the living room. We surveyed the options together until he leaned over and pulled his favorite deck-building game from the pile.
His selection made me grin: He’d picked up the first game we ever played together, when I joined Gwen for Thanksgiving dinner during our first year of graduate school. It had quickly become one of my favorites. The twinkle in his eyes told me he remembered our first game as well as I did.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m intrigued, but I’m not sure how this is going to work.”
“We play. For each difference in points at the end of the game, loser removes one article of clothing. Three to five games. By then, we should both be done with the game and ready to move on to, er, more interesting things.”
“You’re on.”
Back in the kitchen, Nathan cleaned up the lunch dishes while I set up. Both of us moved at lightning speed. Less than ten minutes later, we faced off over several rows of cards.
After shuffling my starting deck, I drew a hand that gave me four coins to spend. I purchased an attack card, hoping I’d be able to get Nathan out of most of his layers in only a game or two. He followed suit, and the two of us settled into the game, drawing cards, making purchases, and shuffling at lightning speed. I’d played this game hundreds of times, but a new urgency filled the air. The faster we got to the end of the game, the sooner we’d be back in bed. The swiftness with which Nathan played each hand told me he felt the same way.
With conversation and trash talk, the game ordinarily took anywhere from twenty to thirty minutes for two players, but barely fifteen passed before Nathan triggered game end. We counted our points eagerly. My pulse raced. This was by far the hottest game I’d ever played.
“Thirty,” I announced triumphantly. “Strip.”
“Not so fast,” he said, lying down his cards. “I’ve got thirty points, too.”
We stared at each other. No one had mentioned what would happen if we tied. According to the directions, the player who took fewer turns would win in this scenario, but we’d each played the same number of hands.
With a shrug, I reached for the hem of my sweater and tugged it over my head. “In a tie, we should each lose something.”
His lips curved upward in that slow, sensual way that made me want to forget the game and climb into his lap. “Works for me.”
I leaned over and gave him a long, lingering kiss. His hands came up to cup my face, and a thrill went through me. My pulse sped up as my hands reached under his T-shirt, exploring his chest as if I imprinted the memory forever. When I leaned out of my chair, straining toward him, he laughed and grabbed my hands.
“Not yet,” he said. “We’re playing a game, remember?”
I pouted. “I can think of some other games we could play instead. One involving special dice I picked up in the novelty section at work.”
“All good things in time,” he said. “The anticipation adds to it.”
He was right, of course. Already he had me squirming in my seat, and he’d only removed his sweater. The entire afternoon stretched before us. If I got my way, after another game or two, we’d move to the bedroom and refuse to come out until morning. Still, I playfully huffed at him while righting myself in my chair.
“You’re cute when you’re pouting.”
“You’re cute when you’re pretending to resist me,” I said.
“Not resisting. Delaying. Trust me, it’ll be worth it.” The way his eyes lingered on my chest told me those words weren’t an empty promise.
I licked my lips, thrilling in the way his gaze traveled upward. When our eyes met, his pupils dilated. This game was new to me, but in the end, we’d both win. If making me wait turned him on, I’d sit here until someone finally invented flying cars.
“You were worth the wait once,” I said. “I suppose we can play another game.”
“Until one of us is naked.”
“Or both of us.”
We separated the cards and set up for a second game. At the end, I wore only a long T-shirt that barely covered my panties. In the third game, Nathan lost his shoes and shirt. After each scoring break, our kisses grew longer, more heated.
His hands moved to my waist, then started to move lower. I leaned into him with a soft sigh, praying he would end the charade of playing a game and throw me onto the floor. Or the table, the counter, up against the wall. It didn’t matter. My entire body burned for him. Here, there, anywhere.
These thoughts consumed me to the point that I almost didn’t notice when Nathan’s hands stopped moving, his lips stilled. Thinking it was time to start the next game, I reluctantly forced my breathing to slow. Then he pulled back so fast I nearly toppled off my chair.
“Oh, my God.” Gwen’s voice rang clearly through the kitchen doorway from the front hall. “What are you doing?”