Page 4 of Playing Flirty

“Do I get a point for being nice?” I teased, and when his dimple reappeared, I counted it as a victory.

“Half a point, maybe.”

He followed me to the door as Claire and Lincoln—a best-friend duo Neema and I had met during our university days—arrived.

Lincoln walked inside carrying two bags that I knew were filled with sweetmeats made especially for me by his mother. I could already taste my favorite cardamom-spiced shortbread cookie. As he passed me, he touched my shoulder gently in greeting, which was miles more than he used to do when we first met.

Unlike Claire, who I’d hit it off with within seconds of meeting. She stumbled in and wrapped her arms around me.

“A hug?” I exclaimed.

“Don’t get used to it. I’m just excited.” She released me, and her grin matched mine.

The sharp sound of Shaun’s whistle officially started game night.

“Let’s play,” he said, swallowing hard and plastering a smile on his reddened face.

Each week, one of us picked a game. Then we’d signal the start of game night with our own personalized call. Shaun used a whistle. Neema whistled too, but used her fingers in her mouth, like an angry sports coach. Claire used one of her kid’s old squeaky toys, and Lincoln’s call was theSuper Mario Bros. theme song.

I started every gaming session by beatboxing the first few seconds of theStar Warsopening song, much to everyone’s displeasure.

William joined us most of the time but pretended he wasn’t part of our group. He never picked a game or had a call, but I imagined he’d initialize game night by sighing about it.

We chose our tokens while Shaun set up the Monopoly board. He offered me a wink, knowing the game was one of my favorites. It took patience and planning—two of my strengths. Regardless of the theme or version, the rules were the same, and there were no surprises.

We settled in as if it were any other night with laughter filling the air.

I hopped up to my knees and extended my palm as William landed on one of my properties. “Money, please,” I said to him with a wiggle of my eyebrows.

“It doesn’t reflect well on you that you’re good at this capitalism-inspired game,” he grumbled and handed over his colorful paper money.

Shaun cleared his throat, interrupting the comeback I had lingering on my tongue. He cleared his throat again, louder now, until everyone turned their attention to him. If I hadn’tknown what was about to happen, I would have thought he was sick.

“Neema.” Shaun scratched the side of his head again. “This is the… uhm…Lord of the Rings–themed Monopoly.Lord of the Rings. Or one ring. Like the one precious ring, like rings are important.” Shaun’s blue eyes darted back and forth between Neema and his own hands.

Up, down, up, down—watching the speed of his moving pupils made me dizzy.

“I love you,” Neema said, stroking his bicep. “Come on, ask me. I’ve prepared my best way to say yes, and it doesn’t involve discussing Gollum.”

“Bit of a mean way to refer to Rose,” William chimed in from across the board.

I bit down on my lip, barely suppressing the giggle trying to escape. He knew as well as anyone that I appreciated a goodLord of the Ringsreference, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction or ruin this moment for my two best friends.

Shaun hobbled down onto one knee in front of Neema and gulped. “Will you marry me?”

A beautiful smile spread across Neema’s face before she leaned down and kissed him on the mouth. She slid off the couch and into his arms before whispering something in his ear that only he could hear.

Shaun’s face burst into a smile.

The warmth of joy spread across every part of me. Pulling out my phone to take a photo of them, I couldn’t help noticing Patrick hadn’t replied to my text. He hadn’t even read it. My chest tightened but I ignored it. My best friends were getting married, and that’s all that mattered.

With shaking hands, Shaun slipped the princess-cut diamond onto Neema’s slender finger. She turned to me, showingit off, and I pulled her in for a hug. Claire joined us, and I figured we had thirty to forty seconds before the three of us became blubbering messes. It didn’t take much to make us cry, and when one of us cried, we all did.

After two generous slices of cake, I joined Shaun and Neema on the balcony and congratulated them once more.

“We couldn’t have done it without you,” Neema said, squeezing my arm. “Thank you.”

My eyes prickled with tears.

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