Page 34 of Playing Flirty

Neema removed the heart charm on her necklace and added it to the starting square. “Here. We can use this.”

Tears prickled behind my eyelids. I kept them shut, trying to compose myself.

“Can you two please hold it together?” Shaun said. “We haven’t even started.”

Neema and I giggled.

“What’s it called?” Lincoln trailed his deft fingers across the board, lingering on areas with different textures.

I’d referred to it as my Board-Game-in-Progress for so long that I nearly forgot the name.

“It’s, uhm, it’s called…” I hesitated, begging my voice to stay with me. “Overpower.”

Everyone nodded, encouraging me to continue.

“It’s a fantasy-adventure game.” I turned to my best friend. “Neema, your bow and arrow makes you a warrior. So are you, Lincoln, with the sword.” I studied the different regions on the board. “Um, Claire, you’re a scientist. Shaun, you’re obviously the king with… you know, the crown. And uh, William… the hat, you’re an enchanter.”

“Ha!” William offered me a wink, and the anxiety I held on to lessened.

“And the heart?” Neema asked.

“Oh, I’m a medic.” I blew out a stream of air, trying to calm my nerves before continuing.

I glanced at Patrick, and my stomach sank. His eyes still focused on his screen. He might as well have been anywhere else for as much attention as he was giving us.

Neema nudged him, and his gaze lifted and met mine.

“What’s this?” he asked, removing one earbud.

A part of me ached, wishing he hadn’t noticed. He’d spent countless hours in my bedroom and had never asked me about it.

“It’s Rose’s game.” Shaun beamed. “Which we have no idea how to play.”

“Cool, babe.” He glanced at his phone as it buzzed in his hand. “I have to take this, please excuse me.” He answered the call and stood, already rambling off numbers and percentages.

A whip of frustration slapped across my spine, but I ignored it and focused on the group of people smiling at me.

“Okay, so… the rules. You probably need the rules… which I haven’t written anywhere.”

I recited them from memory, stumbling and contradicting myself before accepting what I always ended up realizing: they weren’t good.

I hopped to my feet, ready to pack it up. “It doesn’t make sense. It needs work, and the deadline is approaching. Plus the timer broke. Let’s play something else—even Dungeons & Dragons. We could even playFIFA.” I turned to William. “Hand me a controller.”

But William’s soft smile stayed fixed. “Nah. We’re already invested here, and now we know at least half the rules.” Reaching above his head, he grabbed a timer from another game on the shelf behind him. “Are you afraid I’ll beat you at your own game?”

His eyes met mine, and my heart thundered.

He raised an eyebrow to challenge me, and it struck me then: I wanted William’s approval. Since the day I’d discovered he was a game developer, that he fixed games for a living and was the only one who ever matched my enthusiasm for playing, I’d wanted his approval, but up until now, I was too scared to ask.

If I could get him to like my game—the man who mastered every game—then surely it was worth something.

I wanted this. Holding his gaze and exhaling all the little butterflies flying in my stomach, I whispered, “Let’s play.”

Shaun blew his whistle again, and the game, my game, began.

It went on for hours—far longer than a board game should. But my friends were laughing, arguing, and at one point Claire even threatened Lincoln. I choked back tears of joy, and my heart swelled in my chest.

But William was taking notes. Each time he wrote something down, I leaned over to see what he was writing, but he shoved his notebook under his thigh, hiding it from me.

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