One month later
Cassidy paced behind stage, wringing her hands.
Don’t peek out at the audience again. Don’t do it. Don’t!
Damn, the roar of the crowd was like a siren’s call. Yeah. The roar of the crowd. Keep telling yourself that.
She slunk to the edge of the black curtain and looked through the small gap. Big mistake. For one, the sight of what had to be a thousand people made her want to throw up in her convention swag bag. Secondly?
He’s not here.
She’d been expecting this ending when she’d given Ryker the tickets last month, but expecting it didn’t soften the disappointment.
“Ms. Hastings, we’re going to be ready for you and the rest of the Illumination crew soon.”
She jumped, her hand flying to her chest. “Yep. Uh-huh. I’ll be ready.”
The guy, who looked to be no older than a teenager, grinned and went on his merry way, stopping to talk to the other huddles of her co-workers.
She’d grown familiar this week with the look in the kid’s eye—a weird mix of hero worship and oh, shit, it’s a girl—here at one of the largest popular culture conventions in the country. The motley crew Mr. Brown had collected to start his new gaming company, which they’d collectively decided to name Illumination, had taken the gaming world by storm. This panel today had been highly anticipated the whole week in San Diego, and now it was time to go out there on stage and talk about the first game they would be releasing in a year and a half.
Cassidy’s game.
No pressure. Or anything.
She flipped through her notecards, containing her talking points meticulously plotted out, for about the thousandth time in the last thirty minutes. She had them completely memorized, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to epically fuck up when she walked out on the stage and faced thousands of gamers staring at her with impress me expressions.
“All right, folks,” the kid said, drawing the black curtain aside. “It’s showtime.”
The stage lights shot through the gap in the curtain and stabbed directly into Cassidy’s brain via her retinas. By the time she blinked away the dazzling spots, she was staring at the backs of her co-workers as they filed on stage.
“Ready?” a familiar voice asked from behind her.
Cassidy looked at Mr. Brown over her shoulder. “Yes, sir.”
He nodded toward the curtain where the kid was now waving Cassidy over in exaggerated circles. “Go make us proud.”
“Yes, sir,” she squeaked, stumbling toward the light. No pressure. Or anything.
She slipped past the kid. “Good luck,” he whispered right before dropping the curtain back into place.
She didn’t realize there had been a dull roaring in her ears until it abruptly vanished as she faced the crowd. They were . . . they were applauding them. Enthusiastically.
Holy shit. If David and Greg could see her now. Hell, they might see her now. Pretty much everyone in her profession was in San Diego for this convention.
She made her way to the table, spotted her name on a placard, and settled in next to one of the guys she’d been working with for weeks, Jesse. He nodded as she sat down, and flashed her a surreptitious thumbs-up behind the cover of the tablecloth.
She still did a double take every time one of her colleagues genuinely encouraged her, but it was something she was quickly growing to love.
The moderator, someone in the field whom she idolized and therefore couldn’t believe was moderating a panel with her on it, began introducing them. “I know we’ve all heard the buzz surrounding Andrew Brown’s new company, Illumination. And we’ve also heard rumors of their flagship game, so without further ado, let’s meet the geniuses behind the next must-buy phenomenon.”
And then there was a spotlight. On her.
Cassidy clenched her hands together to keep an errant one from shielding her eyes. There was another round of applause, luckily, which gave her just enough time to gather her wits and lean into the microphone in front of her as the applause died down. “Hello. I’m Cassidy Hastings, and I wrote the game we’re tentatively titling Stiff Competition.”
Immediate, thunderous applause filled the room. Hoots and whistles followed. Cassidy leaned back against her chair with her heart thundering a mile a minute. Is this really happening? Am I dreaming again?
She quickly discarded the dream theory. If she were dreaming, Gage would be here. As he was in the majority of her dreams.
Jesse leaned forward as the applause died down and introduced himself as one of the effects guys. His applause was noticeably softer than Cassidy’s, she noticed. He didn’t seem to mind, casting her a huge grin and mouthing wow! as their co-worker Eddie began introducing himself.
After introductions, the moderator settled in on his stool and glanced down at a card. “Now, I’m sure we’ve all read the description of Stiff Competition, so, our first question is for Cassidy Hastings.”
The spotlight immediately spun on her, and she smiled, most likely showing too many teeth in the process.
“Where did you get the inspiration for a game about gigolos?” The moderator said the word salaciously, his tone carrying an obvious wink and nudge.
She stared down at her useless prepared cards. This was way worse than the feeling she got each time she’d had the show-up-naked dream over the last week. Her lungs seemed to freeze. Why didn’t I prepare for this! It was an obvious question, for Chrissake.
It was another reminder of why Gage had run from her kicking and screaming. No matter what she did, people would hear the word gigolo in conjunction with her game and have that same wink-nod reaction.
Well, I can damn well do my best to quell that shit right here and now.
She straightened her useless cards, tapping them against the table twice to get them perfectly square. Then she laid them beside the glass of water in front of her. She leaned toward the mic. “The inspiration was the same man who inspires me in every aspect of my life. Naturally, my work benefited as well.”
The moderator’s smile was still wicked. “And that man is a gigolo?”
Cassidy smiled sweetly. At least, she tried to. If she had to hazard a guess, she looked like she’d just swallowed a full packet of Splenda. “That man is a human being. The only aspect of him that should matter to anybody.”
For the first time, the moderator’s smile slipped. Before he could say anything, however, she kept talking. “In fact, the equal partnership between the male character, who, incidentally, is a gigolo, and the main, female, character—” She could feel herself getting passionate. She fisted her hands atop the table. “That relationship functions purely to stress the fact that all of humanity should be treated with dignity and respect regardless of superfluous matters such as gender, sexuality, education, occupation, ethnicity, money—the list could go on and on. In our industry, there are rarely equal partnerships in gameplay. Even Mario is superior to Luigi. And there is absolutely never equality between male and female characters in gameplay. We believe that has real-world consequences, and Illumination is here to change that trend.”
Her final word echoed throughout the completely silent auditorium.
Cassidy blinked several times. Her heart was racing. Her throat was drier and in desperate need of the cup of water her gaze now fixated on. I think I said everything right. She didn’t remember exactly what she’d said, but she had no feeling of regret. No beginning swirls of panic.
At that moment, a few people in the front row stood to their feet and started a slow clap. Within seconds, several others had joined them, and another moment after that, the entire auditorium was on their feet. Thunderous applause filled the room, and cheers shook the portable platform beneath her Converse.
Her gaze swiveled around the room, her eyes wide, until it landed on Mr. Brown standing right behind the curtain they’d used to get on the stage. He was grinning. Nice job, he mouthed.
She felt her cheeks heat.
When the applause died down, the moderator, with a slight edge to his tone, said, “The next question is for Jesse.”
At that point, Cassidy tuned out. That had been incredible! One of the highlights of her entire life. Definitely a highlight of her career.
She tried to gather her thoughts, like strings of a million balloons, and once she had a firm grip, she folded her hands in front of her and listened diligently to the questions her co-workers answered.
Cassidy was never asked another question. Which, honestly, was probably a good thing. There was no way she could top her last answer.
“I see we have a line forming at the microphone,” the moderator said, putting his question cards into his pocket and glancing at his watch, “and we do have a short time for questions from the audience, so, gentleman at the front—What’s your question?”
Cassidy squinted through the glaring lights. She could barely make out the form of a young man in Final Fantasy cosplay standing before the microphone. Behind him, a long line, completely in shadow, stretched down the aisle.
Cassidy swallowed hard. Audience questions. She squeezed her hands together beneath the table to keep them from shaking.
“Yes, uh, I’m a writer, too, and I wanted to ask Cassidy, um, what your process was for writing this game, and do you have any advice for the rest of us?” He pushed the hair from his wig out of his eyes and knotted his own fingers in front of him. He was a picture of nervousness, and something within Cassidy loosened and relaxed.
She leaned into the microphone. “Best advice I have is don’t attempt to delete your entire game like I did when I decided I didn’t like it anymore.” Several laughs sounded in the dark auditorium. She smiled. “The bitch fought back with the help of an unwitting friend and showed up on my screen the next day, thank God, and I was able to turn it into the game you’re hearing about today. Also”—she gestured to everyone around the auditorium—“don’t forget who you are or what your values are while you’re writing. Never compromise them.” What else had the kid asked? “Oh, yeah, process. My process was to fuck up. Repeatedly. So, don’t do that.” Shit. She’d just dropped the f-bomb in front of Jesus and everybody in San Diego. She closed her eyes briefly. Well, can’t win them all.
When she opened them again, there seemed to be some sort of ruckus happening in the shadows of the audience question line. Several heys sounded, and she heard a clear “Wait your turn!”
Suddenly, the young writer who had asked the question was eclipsed by a hulking man. Wearing leather. And the face of the man she had fallen completely in love with.
She audibly gasped, the sound echoing in the room. She even tensed to leap from her chair, as though she were going to race down the stairs and straight into his arms. The thunderous look in his eyes kept her still, however.
“Sir,” the moderator began, “you have to wait in—”
Gage leaned down, hunching over the microphone. “You’d deleted the game that night?”
Just like that, every single sound in the room died an abrupt death.
Cassidy drank in the sight of him. If possible, he was even more handsome than the last time she’d seen him two months ago. He was leaner, as though maybe he hadn’t been taking the best care of himself. His leather jacket hugged his broad shoulders and bulging arms. The tight black T-shirt beneath clung to his sculpted abs. But it was the brief flicker of hope she saw in his eyes that had her breathless.
Please let that hope not be a trick of the light and distance. She raised a shaky hand and pressed it over her heart. Leaning forward, she said, “Deleted every word.”
Gage swept a hand over his face, and as he did so, she noticed his fingers were trembling just as much as hers were. “This man—” He cleared his throat. When he spoke again, his voice was even huskier. “This man you say inspired every part of your life . . . how do you feel about him now? After everything?”
Oh, God, she was going to cry. Right here on the stage at her debut. “He’s my partner. I think he will always be. And you still inspire the hell out of me.”
Several gasps sounded throughout the space—as though anyone in the auditorium didn’t know whom she was talking about anyway. In her peripheral vision, she saw Jesse and Eddie staring at her with their mouths open. She couldn’t look away from Gage, however, willing with every fiber of her being that this meant he forgave her. Still wanted her.
He took a step toward her, then seemed to stop himself, gripping the microphone stand so hard, she could see his knuckles blanch white even from up on the stage.
That was all it took. With a screech of metal, her chair shot backward, and she launched to her feet. As she started moving across stage, he started moving again, too, edging around anyone in his way.
“It appears this panel is over,” the moderator said, mirth dripping from every syllable.
Nobody in the audience moved. Cassidy didn’t care. Neither, apparently, did Gage, who broke into a slow jog once he got past the rows of chairs. Cassidy pressed her fingers to her lips as she took the stairs two at a time on her way to the auditorium floor.
And then, seconds, later, they were standing toe to toe, and all of their momentum faded into the ground around them. Gage looked down at her, his eyes darting back and forth as he gazed into her eyes. She craned her neck back, swaying toward his heat as though it were a homing beacon. She wanted to touch him, even reached out a hand toward his broad chest before fisting it and forcing it back to her side. “Gage—” She shook her head. “I’m so sorr—”
“I’ve missed you so much,” he said abruptly, cutting her off. “Was dreaming that you’d be able to say something to make everything right again. Feeling like an idiot now that I didn’t just talk to you that day—”
“Oh, God.” She closed her eyes for only a moment, not willing to lose sight of him for longer than that. “I missed you, too.”
And then his lips were on hers. With absolutely zero finesse. Their teeth clacked together, and their hips bumped too roughly. Her arms tangled with his as they tried to pull each other close.
It was the best kiss she’d ever had.
The crowd erupted. Their cheers were so loud that Cassidy momentarily considered drawing away from the heaven she was tasting, but as Gage moaned, slanted his mouth, and licked at the seam of her lips, that inclination died a short death.
Their technique improved by the heartbeat. By the time Gage had her firmly wrapped in his arms and pulled against his chest, she wanted him so badly she was sure she was going to have trouble walking straight whenever he finally released her.
Which, it turns out, happened too soon for her taste. With a reluctant groan, Gage worried her bottom lip between his teeth and set her back on her feet. His eyes were glazed as he looked down at her. “We should go somewhere.” His gaze roved over her face, down her neck, and landed momentarily on her breasts before rocketing back to her face. “We should talk.” Then, in nearly the same breath, “God, I missed these freckles.” He trailed the pad of his forefinger down the bridge of her nose.
She chased the tip of it with her lips. “Yes.” Another kiss to his fingertip. “Please.”
Gage’s hands skated down her upper arms, and he snagged and squeezed both of her hands before tucking one in the crook of his elbow. They turned to exit.
Both of them abruptly halted, rocking to their toes and then back to their heels. The entire audience was on its feet, and they were still clapping and cheering.
How did I even tune that out? The roar was deafening.
Cassidy felt her chest heat, then her neck and cheeks.
“Blushing, Gamer Girl?” Gage asked. She could hear the smile in his voice.
I just made out with someone in front of thousands of people. And she’d do it again in a heartbeat.
There was a tug on her hand; Gage was leading her toward where Mr. Brown was standing in the wings, holding the curtain and waving them through. She almost tripped going up the stairs, too focused on staring at the curve of Gage’s jaw she wanted to lick to pay attention to her feet.
Mr. Brown clapped Gage on the back hard enough to make a resounding noise as he and Cassidy ducked behind the curtain.
“Andrew Brown,” Mr. Brown said, extending his hand toward Gage.
“Gage Adams.” Gage took Mr. Brown’s hand.
“I know this wasn’t your intention, you two, but you just made our first game a bestseller.” Mr. Brown grinned broadly. “I’d love to buy my two current favorite people a drink if you have the time. Sometime this afternoon, maybe? I’m sure you’re off to visit somewhere.”
Behind them, Cassidy’s co-workers were filing in from the stage. Their excitement was palpable, and they waved and smiled at her while casting curious glances Gage’s way.
No wonder they’re curious. In the past two months, she had barely talked to any of them outside of work, which had led to rumors that she wasn’t interested in relationships or men.
I just wasn’t interested in anyone who wasn’t Gage.
Gage nudged her in the ribs with his elbow, and her gaze shot to his, where she could clearly read an Okay with you?
What am I supposed to be answering? Oh, drinks. “Yes, that sounds great, Mr. Brown.”
He nodded. “Okay, see you in a few hours. There’s a door in the back,” he pointed behind him, “if you want to avoid the crowds.”
“Thank you, sir,” Gage said, pulling her that direction.
Cassidy threw Mr. Brown a quick glance over her shoulder. He winked and gave her a thumbs up.
God, I love my job.
The backstage door let out in an abandoned hallway, and at the end of it, two glass doors led outside.
“Where are you staying?” Gage asked.
God, she’d forgotten the way his lips moved. She needed to taste them again. “The hotel around the corner.”
He grinned. “Convenient.”
“Mmm.”
His smile wavered, then disappeared. The next instant, he had her backed against the wall. He wedged his massive thigh between her legs, pressing the flexing muscle right against her sex. His barrel of a chest met her breasts, and he gazed down at her, his brown eyes soft at the edges. “Say mmm again,” he whispered. His breath spread across her lips like a caress.
“Why?” Was that her breathless voice?
He groaned. “On second thought, anytime your lips move, they drive me crazy.” He dipped down, sucking her upper lip between his teeth, flicking his tongue against the sensitive center.
Her moan was loud enough to echo down the empty hallway, and her fingers curled into the muscles of his shoulders as she clutched him closer.
Suddenly, her grip turned claw-like. Two months without him. Almost lost him forever. She sucked in a breath, and even to her ears, she could hear the hidden sob it contained.
Gage froze beneath her grip. He edged back slightly, keeping his chest pressed to hers but releasing her mouth. “Cassidy?” He reached out a tentative hand and brushed his fingertips lightly beneath her eye. When he pulled them away, they were wet.
Crying?
Seeing the proof of her tears on his skin seemed to release a damn of them from within her. Next she knew, she was sobbing.
“Oh, no.” Gage cradled her face between her hands, trying in vain to catch her tears as they cascaded down her cheeks. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”
“I’m s-so . . . sorry!” She pulled in a ragged breath. “I fucked up so h-hard.”
He gave up using his thumbs and instead pulled her face into his chest, holding it there with one hand while stroking her back with the other. “Shh.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Cassidy, I fucked up, too.”
She jerked back, outraged. “What?” She dashed the tears from beneath one eye. “How could you say that?”
His lips quirked as though he found her pique endearing. “I bailed. The moment it got tough, I bailed. If I had stayed for even five more minutes, would you have told me you’d tried to delete the game?”
She sniffed. “Yeah. But that doesn’t make a difference,” she finished in a rush. “I still wrote it to start with.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And we started an emotionless sex arrangement. Things changed. We changed.” He tucked a wayward curl behind her ear and threaded his fingers through her hair, cupping her cheek. “I wasn’t ready to admit that or make allowances for that change in you.” The first hint of hesitation crossed behind his eyes. “Things did change for you, right?”
She breathed a humorless laugh. “I fucking love you, so, yeah.”
He froze.
Oh, fuck me. She froze too. She’d just said it. Blurted it out.
Slowly, he stroked his thumb across her cheekbone. “What did you just say?”
In for a penny . . . “I fell in love with you. And that condition has only intensified since that day I drove you away.”
He drew in a slow breath.
She braced herself. Too soon. She was about to lose him again. With all her strength, she focused on not dissolving at his feet. I survived before; I’ll survive this time.
“Thank you,” he said.
She closed her eyes. Thank you? This is going to be bad.
“Because, I was worried I was going to have to say the word love first. Way to jump on that grenade for the both of us.”
She opened her eyes again. “Wait. You mean, you—?”
He brushed his thumb along her bottom lip, his expression turning serious. “I love you. It was inevitable from the moment I saw you trying to rub one out as you sprawled naked in that gaming chair all those nights ago. I’m sorry I ran. I’m sorry I stayed away. But I want in your life again. On a permanent basis.”
An unimaginable lightness filled her. “Oh, God, I want that, too.” There was only one thing. “Are you still—?”
He pressed his lips together. “I haven’t been with anyone since you. Since the night I made love to you.”
“Is that what we did?” Her voice was that same breathless version she’d never heard herself use before today.
He nodded solemnly. “You ruined me, Freckles. For anyone else.”
Her brows drew together. “Then what have you been doing?”
“Other than camping out on Ryker’s couch and eating?”
Her brows shot toward her hairline. “You?” The man who never ate a thing he hadn’t planned had spent two months on a couch? Because of her? Why does that thrill me?
“I, uh . . . ” He rubbed the back of his neck with one palm. The way his biceps flickered beneath his delicious skin distracted her so badly, she nearly forgot he was talking. “I signed with an agent. I’m a . . . model now.”
Her lips parted. “A model?”
He nodded, his eyes wary. As though he expects me to make fun of him?
It intimidated her. Who was she to be in love with a model? She absently fingered the tips of her frizzy hair as she looked down at her faded T-shirt.
“If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, I’m going to be upset with you.”
That brought a smile to her lips. She met his gaze. “Kind of how you could be in trouble for feeling embarrassed about modeling?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Touché.”
The pressure against her sex increased. He was stirring his thigh against her. “Will you say the part where you love me again?” he asked, his voice a panty-melting blend of husky and vulnerable.
She pushed to her tiptoes. Threading her fingers through his thick hair, she pulled his face to her, pressing the tips of their noses together. “I love you, Gage. A lot.”
Again, he sighed, the sound blatantly relieved. “Be my girlfriend?”
A word they both used to hate. It tripped off his tongue as though it belonged there between them.
Maybe someday he’ll even ask me to be something else.
She waited a moment for panic to rush in, and when it didn’t, she smiled. “Yes, please,” she whispered, pressing a sweet kiss to his parted lips.
With a groan, he took her simple kiss and morphed it into something deeper. When he broke from the kiss several minutes later, both of their breaths were ragged. “I’d like to take my girlfriend to bed now.”
“She’d like that, too.”
The weight of his body vanished from hers in a flash, and she immediately missed it. But the look in his eyes as he snagged her hand and pulled her toward the exit, almost at a jog, warmed her again.
They burst out into the sunshine hand in hand. He pulled her down the sidewalk, his long legs moving much quicker than hers ever could unless she broke into a run. She giggled and took the opportunity to ogle his ass something fierce.
God bless those jeans.
“I can feel your eyes on my body, Freckles.” He cast her a lascivious grin over his shoulder, his speed abating not at all.
“Good.” She licked her lips. “It’s about to be my mouth.”
His pupils expanded, and he nearly ran into a light pole as they turned into the drive of her hotel.
He tugged her to a stop. “Hey.” His tone was suddenly serious, and a spate of nerves crawled up Cassidy’s neck, making her roll her shoulders. “I want you to know—”
Oh, God.
“Shit, I don’t even know how to do this. How fucked up is that?”
With her heart in her throat, Cassidy said, “Just say it.”
“I’m totally clean. Got tested when I decided I was done taking clients.” He pulled their intertwined fingers to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “I want to be with you. Taste you. Feel your slick pussy against my cock.” As he talked, his eyes darkened. Cassidy herself found it difficult to breathe. “Do you think,” he continued in a rough voice, “we could see about making that happen soon?”
“I, uh—” She licked dry lips. Lips that longed to be wrapped around the same cock he’d just casually mentioned. She backed up a bit, and she saw a flare of panic in Gage’s eyes.
“Too much, right?” he blurted. “Forget I said it. Please.”
She squeezed his hand. With her free one, she lifted the edge of her T-shirt the slightest bit, revealing her lower belly.
His gaze traveled that direction, to the small, square patch. His lips parted.
“I kind of had high hopes for today,” she murmured.
His eyes widened. “That’s a—”
She nodded. “Got it last month. When I sent the tickets to Ryker.” Not to mention the check. The one she knew Gage had never cashed, as she’d been watching her account for it avidly, anxious for any sign of him in whatever way she could find.
He brushed his fingertips over her birth control patch. “I can come in you?”
Oh, God. She had to clear her throat before she could speak. “I’m counting on it.”
He made a ragged noise. Hauling her in closer, he pressed a rough, quick kiss to her lips that was over before she’d even had time to realize it had started.
Then, they were moving toward the hotel doors at an even faster clip than before while her body pricked with awareness. The doorman saw them coming several feet out, and even then, he still barely got the door open for them in time. They raced across the lobby.
Gage pressed the up button for the elevator several times in a row. She bit her bottom lip to keep from smiling.
With a ding, the elevator doors opened.
Empty. She knew exactly what this would mean.
And, yep, as soon as the doors closed, he crowded her into the corner of the elevator, yanking up the hem of her T-shirt in his fists until he was pressing his hot palms against the naked skin of her back.
She gasped, tipping her head back as he licked the hollow of her throat. “Shouldn’t I press the button for the floor?”
“No need,” he rasped against her skin, licking her pulse now. “We’re going down.”
She couldn’t stop the laugh this time. God, it had always been like this between them: like she was with her best friend. She just hadn’t realized at the time what a rare and amazing thing that was.
As he nibbled his way along her jaw, she groped along the side panel of the elevator, peering over his shoulder until—success—she grazed the number 5 with the tip of her middle finger.
The elevator lurched upward, and he growled in her ear, reaching for the hand that had pressed the button. “I have something else for you to be groping, Freckles.”
His hot fingers wrapped around her wrist, he pressed her palm to the front of his jeans. He was long and hard behind his fly; her knees went weak.
“Gage,” she gasped, trying to wrap her fingers around his cock.
He moaned. “Don’t say my name like that, sweetheart.”
She fumbled for the button of his jeans. “Why not?” Her hips were already rocking.
He captured her wrist again, holding her hand still. “Because it makes me want to fuck you right here until you’re screaming it in my ear.”
Ding.
The elevator doors opened. And just in time. She had managed to slip the button loose on his jeans, and after that last declaration, she had been moments away from falling to her knees and sucking him deep into her mouth.
Planting his hands on each side of her head against the elevator wall, he pushed himself away from her as though it was the hardest physical effort he’d ever exerted. “Which room, Cassidy? We need to be there. Now.”