Page 94 of Game Over

I tense slightly. “I’m sorry?—”

“No,” she interrupts, placing her hand on mine. “I’ve been playing your game instead, but it’s different. More intense. Real.” She looks up at me, vulnerability and strength mingling in her eyes. “Maybe better.”

I brush my thumb across her knuckles, cataloging this moment. Another piece of her I never expected to possess.

Her expression shifts as she considers something, her brow furrowing.

“So what happens next?” she asks, fingers tracing idle patterns on my forearm.

The thought of her returning to that apartment sends a jolt through me. I’ve dismantled most of the surveillance equipment there, but not all.

“You could commute to work,” I say carefully, measuring each word. “From here to work and back.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Are you asking me to move in with you? Before we’ve even had our first official date?”

A teasing lilt in her voice makes warmth unfurl in my chest. This is new territory—the playful banter, the undefined boundaries. I’ve mapped out every scenario except where she willingly chooses to stay.

“I am.” I run my thumb across her lower lip. “Unconventional, I know. But when have we done anything by the book?”

She laughs, the sound light and genuine. “That’s putting it mildly.” Her fingers curl around mine. “Most couples meet on dating apps. We met because you stalked me and kidnapped me.”

“I prefer ‘aggressively pursued.’” I smirk, then grow serious. “You could keep your place as I was bluffing about clearing it out. Go there whenever you need space. But yes, I want you here.”

“Moving in together before our first date.” She shakes her head, but she’s smiling. “Only us.”

I pull her closer, drinking in the reality of her. “I’ve never been good at maintaining normal boundaries when it comes to you.”

I feel her body shift against mine, settling into my side as if she’s always belonged there. The weight of her, warm and real, makes something in my chest expand. I’ve mapped her body’s measurements down to the millimeter and planned for every possible outcome—except this one. Her willingness changes everything.

“I’ll need to get some things from my apartment,” she says, looking up at me. “Clothes, my gaming setup...”

“Of course.” I run my fingers through her hair, savoring the silky texture. “I can have everything brought here tomorrow.”

“I should probably get it myself,” she counters, a hint of steel in her voice. “I need to give notice to my landlord and explain to a few people... including Jenna.”

Jenna. Her friend. The variable I hadn’t fully accounted for.

“She’ll notice I’m gone,” Kira continues. “I can’t disappear without a word.”

I consider the possibilities, running scenarios through my mind. “She won’t approve.”

“No.” Kira’s laugh is soft but certain. “She definitely won’t.”

I tilt her chin up. “Will that change your mind?”

“No.” Her answer is immediate, unwavering. “This is my choice. My life.”

My fingers find the pulse point in her neck, feeling it quicken. “I don’t share well, Kira. Not even with best friends.”

“I’m not asking you to share.” She shifts, turning to face me fully. “But I won’t cut people out of my life. You can’t expect that.”

My instinct is to refuse. It’s what I’ve always done. The determined set of her jaw tells me this is non-negotiable.

“I’ll compromise,” I say finally. “You maintain your friendships, but our relationship—what happens between us—stays private.”

Relief softens her features. “Deal.”

I pull her closer, pressing my lips to her forehead. Her scent—sweet orange blossom soap—fills my senses.

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