Page 126 of Game Over

I hold out my arm, letting the security guard inspect my wristband. With a hmph, she props open the backstage door, waving for my entrance.

Turns out, Kingston Entertainment can—literally—open some doors that the developers in the Indie Creator Showcase don't have access to. Luckily, Elias snagged me a backstage pass and gave his own to Hayden, stating he was too swamped with work to attend. According to Hayden, that's a running theme with his brother, and I believe him.

What a bummer, though. That guy would've looked even more out of place than Jeremy. Well, I guess Hayden does too, but he at least attempted to blend in, swapping his polos and chinos for a pair of ripped jeans and a basic T-shirt. Although, let's be real...

There's no blending in with a face like that.

I know it. The security guard who hardly checked his wristband knows it. Even that backstage worker with the headset on, sneaking glances over her clipboard—she knows it. I'd be jealous, but... who can blame her?

Okay, maybe I'm a little jealous.

Matching my stride, Hayden intertwines his warm fingers with mine, as if he picked my emotions out of thin air—or just read my facial expressions. He squeezes, erupting all sorts of butterflies in my stomach.

This handholding thing, it started last week, and it's only becoming more frequent—and natural. At first, only he would initiate. In the kitchen. After sex, sometimes during. Then I started to. While watching movies in the living room or sunbathing on the terrace. I think I understand what it all means, and I would bring up such a conversation, if it weren't for the doubt lingering inside me that believes someone like Hayden doesn't do labels—or monogamy, for that matter—whether he confessed feelings for me or not.

So, I guess I'm just riding this flirtatious dynamic while I can.

"Does Jeremy know about us?"

"Uhh..." My mind turns up blank. "No," I lie. Now's not the time. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason. Just that when I ran into him on the way to meet you, he seemed a little... off." I suck in a breath, thankful when it doesn't draw his attention. "He acted fine, I guess, but there was something in his eyes—I don't know. I'm probably just paranoid. Not to mention, I've been dodging him for weeks, for obvious reasons, so I'm sure it has to do with that."

"Yeah." I pale. "I bet it's that."

As we venture farther and farther backstage, I'm careful not to trip over the sea of wires scurrying across the floor, connected to audio booths and makeshift tables littered with technical equipment. Alongside my anxiety, sounds from the main stage grow louder with every step of our approach. The music, the announcers on stage, and the roaring crowd all reverberate through the floor and echo in the open space, until we stand beside the stage's massive golden curtain, nearly deafened by such proximity.

At our vantage point, we have a partial view of the crowd and a perfect one of the main event screen, which is bigger than any movie theater screen this side of the Hudson and currently plays a first-look trailer for a certain first-person shooter. Although it releases in a couple months and is extremely hyped-up by the community, it's not my type of game, so instead, I observe the crowd, searching for familiar faces.

After a good minute, I give up, but according to Jeremy's texts, Mom and Dad made it and can't stop gushing about me to everyone seated around them. Even Mei is in attendance—oh, who am I kidding? She makes time for anything. I'm thankful, nonetheless.

Other than Jeremy, I didn't have time to speak with any of them because they all arrived later than us, specifically after I learned of our backstage access, something I wouldn't pass up in a million years. Nothing to fret about, though. I'll visit them after the indie showcase, which is in...

I sink a hand into my pocket, retrieving my phone.

Ten minutes.

Taking a deep breath, I exhale through my nose steadily, but find little comfort. At least my feature isn't going first—that would be a lot of pressure. My slot is number three, which I took as a sign of luck. Good things happen in threes, right?

I just hope whoever put the video together knew what they were doing. Hayden mentioned that the flash drive's gameplay footage would be handed off to someone in the tech department. Given the vast number of employees at Kingston Entertainment, I'm sure they found someone capable.

So, why am I still nervous?

There's probably no getting around it. I've only waited five years for this moment.

I shudder when soft lips brush against the hollow of my ear. "It's going to be fine," Hayden says, over the current trailer's intense music, sweeping a thumb across my hand in soothing, side-to-side motions. As I meet his stare, he smiles. "More than fine, actually. It'll be perfect."

Standing on my tippy toes, I stretch for his ear, meaning to thank him. Except, when my lips reach their mark and his arms instinctually loop around my middle, I still can't help myself. "You mean purrrrr-fect."

His body tenses against mine.

"What's wrong?" I ask, feigning ignorance, clamping down hard on a laugh when I feel him stiff as a board, only for a snicker to come bursting out a moment later.

I squeal as his arms tighten, locking me in a death grip. He pulls me close—so close, I blush at the thought of all the event workers around us—the motion burying my face into his chest, before he cranes low to my ear. "Juliana Brooks," he warns, earning another wave of giggles. I squirm against his hold, before they spill out of his mouth, too.

When he releases me, I pat down my hair, furiously, and—

My breath hitches.

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