Page 7 of Pro Gamer's Aim

“Wouldn’t it be weird if I stayed at your place? Are you even unpacked?”

“I’m pretty sure this entire situation is weird, Ms. James. But no, it wouldn’t even hit my top ten of weird shit that’s happened to me if you were to stay at my place.” He sits back on my couch, stretching out those long, long legs and draping his arms over the back of it. “Don’t even worry about it, and pack yourself a bag. I’m not sure how long it’ll take, and your mama says not to let you back into the house until it is perfectly secure again.”

I stand in front of my closet, trying to decide what to pack for the night. My hands hover over my usual comfy pajamas and practical underwear before I inexplicably decide to toss a few black, lacy lingerie sets into the weekender bag I grab. I feel a small flutter of excitement, then remember that it isn't like I’m packing for some sort of date.

Jesus Christ, Sam. Get a grip.

But the lingerie stays.

Feeling a little silly, I go practical and add a few basic toiletries and a change of clothes before sealing the bag with a sigh. I throw off my oversized sweater, feeling way too hot with it on, and consider my reflection. Tank and tiny shorts might be a little inappropriate on their own—so I add a silk kimono robe. There. Decent again. No point in getting fully dressed when I'm just walking next door.

Next on the agenda is to text Amy. I give her a quick rundown in a few paragraphs of texts. After a second, I send one more.

Samantha:

Anyway, long story short, Asher thought I was getting murdered while playing BABR. Staying at his place tonight while he goes to a hotel, because… You know, Milo. Letting you know, just in case he turns out to be a serial unaliver.

As I hit send, another notification pops up on my phone. A message from Mom. I open it to find her usual mix of love and meddling advice.

Mom:

Sweetheart, go for it! Asher sounds divine. Does he look as heavenly as he sounds? How wonderful to have a strong man try to rescue you. Live a little!

I can't help but roll my eyes. My mom is something else—always loving and supportive but also completely out of touch with reality. Trying to set me up with a stranger who may or may not be an ax murderer? Classic Mom move.

With everything sorted, I make my way downstairs to find Asher finishing up a conversation on the phone. He is holding Milo in his arms, looking every bit the rugged hero with a tiny dog.

As he hangs up, he turns to me, offering his hand. “Ready, then?”

I nod, feeling a strange mix of nerves and gratitude as I place my hand in his.

Chapter four

Chapter 4

Samantha

"Here we are." Asher flicks on the lights, illuminating a room filled with stacked boxes and haphazardly placed furniture. "I apologize for the mess. I'm still settling in."

I step inside, Milo trotting at my heels. The space screams bachelor pad meets frat house, but underneath the disarray, I catch glimpses of sleek, modern pieces. Not the worn out couch, but a deceptively simple glass coffee table, elegant wood entertainment stand, and some different design pieces stacked in a corner. Potential. Guy has some taste, mixed with not enough money.

I know the feeling.

"No worries." I flash him a smile. "Moving's always chaotic."

He leads me up a floating staircase to the bedroom. More boxes line the walls, but in the center stands a king-sized bed. Naked. Sheetless. My stomach flips for no reason at all, except that I'm imagining him sleeping on it. Also naked.

Down, Sam. Down. You've been listening to Max too much.

"I swear I have bedding somewhere." Asher rubs the back of his neck, his gaze flicking from me to the bare mattress. "Just need to unearth it."

"It's fine, really. I'm the one who should be apologizing." I set my bag down, heat creeping up my cheeks. "For putting you out like this. For the whole..." I gesture vaguely, "...murder misunderstanding."

"Hey, it's not every day I get to play knight in shining armor." His lips quirk. "Or, well, knight in worn out jeans."

A laugh bubbles out of me, easing the tightness in my chest. "My hero."

Asher grins, and that quirk of his lips does all sorts of unholy things to my insides. Then he claps his hands together. "Right. Sheets. They've got to be in one of these boxes."

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