Page 1 of Playing Flirty

Round 1

If life was a game, I’d made a wrong turn.

In my constant effort to achieve everything on my Life Goals spreadsheet, I ended up taking on too much work and enrolling in a postgraduate business course that I had very little interest in.

Which is why I was sitting in my office finishing up a mind-numbingly boring report while the sunset’s orange glow smeared itself across my desk.

Shaun, my office mate, wheeled over to me from his desk, his backpack zipped up and balanced on his lap. “Come to game night.”

If it weren’t for this report I would, and he knew that. Game night was my favorite night of the week. The only time I could forget about work, forget about my goals, and play board games. And at least half the time, I’d win.

“You’re not usually this persistent,” I huffed out and tucked a strand of my wavy black hair behind my ear.

An email notification popped up. I navigated to my inbox. More promotional mail.

One day I would print out all these emails and bury myself under their weight as punishment for signing up to so many newsletters.

Shaun scrutinized my laptop screen. “You’re not even working,” he said and shuddered. “For someone who lives her life via spreadsheets, your inbox is a nightmare.”

He was right, and sorting through it was one of the items on my growing to-do list. Once something was on the list, it had to be done. That was the rule I’d set for myself.

“Organized chaos.” I closed the window before spinning around and studying him. “This is the third time you’re asking, and the answer hasn’t changed: I have deadlines to meet.”

He met my gaze, and his golden brows jumped toward each other. After years of working together and playing games every Wednesday night, I knew all his tells.

“I’ll help you with your deadlines,” he said. “But you need to be there tonight.”

“What’s happening tonight?”

He broke eye contact and pushed himself back until his chair knocked against his desk. He hopped up and ran a hand through his blond hair, tugging as he reached the ends. “Rose Marie Jones,” he said.

He only used my full name when he was scolding me or about to tell me something big. I took a deep breath as I anticipated his next words. “Shaun Henry Ashdern,” I replied, mimicking his tone.

He nodded, gearing up for his big confession, but then shook his head. The bright fluorescent lights of the office threw a shadow along the lines of his forehead while he fumbled his words. “I’m proposing to Neema and you’re our best friend and I need you there,” he rambled off.

My ears perked at his words, and a number of squeals escaped me. I barreled into him.

He steadied us and chuckled. “I take it you approve? I know you had your engagement scheduled before ours, but… I can’t wait. I love her. I just—”

“Of course, you fool.” I pushed him away, trying to think of something better to say, but there weren’t words to express my joy or the strange curdling sensation in my stomach that I chose to ignore. “I’m updating my Life Goals spreadsheet anyway. That deadline has come and gone.” I offered him a smile, hoping it seemed as genuine as I wanted it to be. “I am so happy for you, but I wish you’d told me sooner. I could have helped you plan something.”

“I ordered flowers?” he said as though it were a question. “And I couldn’t rely on you keeping this a secret. Rose, you’re terrible with secrets.”

I shrugged, not bothering to deny it.

“But I am relying on you for everything else,” he continued. “We have an hour and a half, so let’s grab all the party supplies you keep in your desk drawer and get out of this place.”

Shaun wasted no time dragging me out of the office. The sea breeze from the San Diego Bay was pleasant against my skin as we stepped outside, and I hurried to match his long stride.

Within fifteen minutes, we reached his upscale apartment.

He unlocked the door and skipped into the living room. His excitement was finally overriding his nerves. He spun around at the same time my phone pinged.

“I don’t trust you,” he said, extending his hand palm up and wiggling his fingers.

I narrowed my eyes and clawed my phone from the depths of chaos, also known as my backpack. Neema’s name flashed across my notifications. Before I could consider replying, Shaun snatched my phone. He walked into the adjacent kitchen and placed it on top of the refrigerator. His cheeky smile mimicked mine.

The click of a door opening drew my attention. William, Shaun’s half brother and my number one gaming nemesis,walked out of his bedroom and settled on the gray couch like a dark cloud. He stretched out his long pajama-clad legs and leaned back before lifting a controller and resuming the game that had been paused.

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