Page 48 of Nerdplay
“I like to be creative.” She tilts her head back to look up at me. “They get my point across.”
I laugh. “Without a doubt. Those other racers didn’t know road rage until you screeched onto the scene.”
“Do you want to play something else?”
I realize with a start that I do. Thanks to Cricket, the competitive juices are now flowing freely. I spin around to investigate the other options.
We play Pac-Man, then Donkey Kong. As I dodge my last fireball, the door swings open and Olivia appears. “It’s twelve on the dot,” she says.
It’s been over two hours already? I check my Apple watch to make sure. Yep. It’s noon.
“Come in, Olivia. Charlie and I were just finishing up. Is there something you’d like to play with me?”
“No thanks. Grandpa is on his way. He wants to play Pac-Man again.”
I hook a thumb toward Cricket. “Word to the wise: do not ever race this one. She’s a maniac.”
Olivia musters a smile. “Everybody knows women are the best drivers.”
“Did you see that?” Cricket whispers as we leave the cabin. “She actually smiled.”
“I know. I wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light.”
She nudges me with her arm. “I know you don’t think so, but you’re very funny, you know.”
“I’m a comedic genius. Why do you think I became a lawyer? We have more jokes than any other profession.”
“I’m dead serious about how funny you are.”
“That’s kind of you to say. Thank you.” I bow, uncertain what the appropriate response is in this situation. Women don’t generally find me funny. Sexy. Smart. Successful. But not funny. I wonder if it’s a bad sign. Maybe funny is what puts guys in the Friend Zone.
Why would I care if Cricket puts me in the Friend Zone? I have to shake this off—whatever this is. She’s clouding my judgment worse than any video game ever could.
“Are you ready for lunch?” she asks. “I have it on good authority that the hotdogs today are all beef.”
As tempted as I am, I force myself to decline. “I should probably take a nap. I’m pretty beat from last night.”
Another smile appears. “From your all-night cuddling sesh with your namesake?”
“What can I say? He’s very fidgety. He nearly pushed me off the bed more than once.”
“I don’t doubt. I hear he has an aggressive nature.”
I grin at her. “Sounds like someone else I know.”
She gives me a playful shove. “That was a video game. You’re supposed to act ridiculous.”
“I’ll see you this afternoon,” I say, lengthening my strides to increase the distance between us. Against my will, I register her scent as I walk toward the residential area. I glance at my hands, remembering how good skin-on-skin contact felt. Her skin, specifically. I seriously doubt I’d be having the same response to Ben’s hands. Her laugh is something special. Wicked, bawdy, triumphant, and sexy as hell. No wonder she thinks I’m funny. I now seem hellbent on triggering that laugh at every opportunity.
I catch sight of Gloria and Angela over by the ring toss and give them a friendly wave, but I keep walking at a brisk pace. I don’t trust myself to have a casual conversation right now because I know exactly where it will lead.
To Cricket.
At this camp, all conversations lead to Cricket. They’re either about her, instigated by her, or include her. She isn’t under my skin; she’s everywhere, like the Force.
Fuck me. I just made a Star Wars reference.
If a Star Wars reference is made in Endor Woods, does anybody hear it?
