Page 39 of Playing Flirty

Perhaps sitting as far away from him as possible was a good idea.

I sat on the opposite couch and gestured to the game. “Shall we get started?”

He took a sip of his coffee, and his Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed.

Damn you, Rose. Stop it. Don’t look.

I stared down at my coffee and took a deep breath.

“I’m going to walk you through my gaming experience.” He glanced at his notebook, his voice void of the playfulness I’d become accustomed to. “Your first problem, which I’m sure you’re aware of but I’m mentioning it anyway, is the missing written and structured rules.”

My face flamed hotter than the mug I was clutching. “I know, I know.”

“That way, you won’t have to be there to ramble in circles about it every time anyone plays your game.” His dimple made a showing while he suppressed a smile. “Although, I imagine if you had it your way, you would be.”

He was absolutely right.

He took another sip of coffee and then picked up a cookie and put the entire thing in his mouth. “But, Rose.” He paused while he finished chewing.

I startled at his use of my name. When he called me Rose, it was somehow familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. I always expected some variation of “hobbit.”

He swallowed the remainder of his cookie and brushed the crumbs off his black T-shirt. “We’re not going to discuss the formation of rules now. Today is all about the game, exactly as we played it.”

My mind spun, and I couldn’t decide whether it was because he was dissecting my game or because I couldn’t keep my eyes off the way his T-shirt tightened around his biceps every time he moved. Something inside me coiled tight, and I looked away.

This was a totally normal reaction to a man who was extravagantly handsome.

“You okay?” He leaned forward, and even though an entire coffee table still divided us, it was too close.

I nodded, careful not to look directly at him. Neema was right. It was too dangerous.

“Let’s see those submission guidelines again,” he said.

Perfect. I needed an excuse to breathe. I scrambled off the couch and toward my room, where I’d left my laptop. His scent followed me. I spun around and found him leaning against the doorway, staring into my bedroom, which seemed to have shrunk in his presence.

I’d left it exactly as it was when I’d woken up. My cheeks flushed further at the number of books, games, and notes scattered over my bed, the chair, and part of the floor. As much as I denied my parents’ chaos genes, some of it had slipped through the cracks.

He peeked inside at the bulletin board mounted beside the doorway. “This is in line with what I expected.” A hearty laughescaped him as he traced his fingers over my ticket stubs and photos.

A look of approval crossed his face as he spotted the same bands I knew were also his favorites. I’d seen his T-shirts.

He touched all my Comic-Con ticket stubs and smiled—I’d bet he attended Comic-Con too. His face straightened, and he retracted his hand before grazing a photo booth strip of Patrick and me.

I’d forgotten that was there.

I shoved my laptop against his hard chest and tried to ignore the firmness.

One more inappropriate thought and I’d shove myself into the freezer until after he’d left.

“Out, out, out. Bedrooms aren’t part of business meetings.”

He laughed, his eyes switching back to playful. “Even if I wanted to seduce you, I can’t say it would work among the Pokémon plushies.”

“Ouuuut.” With a final push, I managed to move his heavy body.

We settled back onto the couch. Opening my laptop, I pulled up the contest rules and scanned over them.

“Okay, so…” I leaned back as I read with William sitting beside me, though far enough that we weren’t touching. “I need to submit it in about one and a half months. It needs more than five players, has to be played on a board, has to be an original idea, and no pop culture–themed games or new versions of existing games allowed.” I cleared my throat. “And no… erotic games.”

---