Page 40 of For You & No One Else (Say Everything 3)

“So no time to work on the game?” She’d figured out that though he seemed to be amazing at the hacking thing, the game was his passion project.

He shrugged the shoulder that wasn’t pressed up against the doorjamb, making the Commodore 64 graphic on his T-shirt twitch. “Not really. But that’s okay. The game is more of an art project than a technical one—designing graphics, creating the story lines. Taking breaks from it helps that creative subconscious stuff to do some work in the background.” He cocked his chin toward her computer. “How’s your day been?”

“Imagine all the headdesk GIFs, and that will give you some idea.”

He winced and stepped inside. “Ouch. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Nothing I’m not used to.” She reached back and tightened her low ponytail. “A lot of people imagine therapists giving advice all day, but much of my day is spentnotsaying all the things I want to say because I have to guide people to come to the answers themselves. My tongue is sore from all the times I’ve had to bite it today.”

He gripped the back of the chair she used during sessions. “I would make a terrible therapist.”

She rolled her desk chair back and crossed her legs, smiling. “You’re definitely not one to hold back your opinions or advice. But honestly, neither am I when I’m not in session.”

His gaze flicked down, so quickly she almost missed it, but she felt the effect immediately. He’d checked out her legs. She knew that interest wouldn’t go anywhere. They were establishing a friendship with some light flirting, and they both knew it was not wise to pursue any of it further than that. But it still gave her a little thrill to know she had some effect on him. He definitely had an effect on her. She crossed her legs the other way, not above a little torture.

Beckham cleared his throat. “I just wanted to check with you to see what you’d decided about the get-together tomorrow night.”

“Your secret club? I plan on going,” she said, her nerves fluttering at the thought. “My friend Andi is going to come with me.”

His fingers flexed against the leather of the chair. “Cool. She’s the horror writer?”

“Yep. I suspect she agreed to come because it will be good story fodder—and to make sure I’m not going to get murdered,” she said. “She’s definitely not coming along to meet guys. She’s got a dude she’s crazy about.”

He put a hand over his heart. “No murder, I promise.”

“Excellent. That’d really put a hitch in my meeting-new-people plan.” She eyed him as he drummed his fingers along the top of the chair. “Was there something else? I feel like you’re debating telling me something.”

He winced. “This is the hazard of being friends with a therapist.”

She arched her brow in her most intimidating tell-me face. “Spill it, Beck.”

He sighed. “Fine. I don’t want to scare you off, but a warning seems fair. The parties sometimes have themes and always have activities. People don’t have their phones, so they like to have icebreaker-type stuff and things to do.”

She crossed her arms, his body language making her nervous. “Like the karaoke you warned me about.”

“Right, but this weekend, the theme is…eighties slumber party.”

Her lips parted. “Eighties slumber party. Uh…what exactly does that mean?”

He linked his hands behind his neck like this news was slightly painful to him as well. “I don’t know the whole plan, but I know the dress code is pajamas. And I expect there will be slumber-party-themed games.”

“Like?”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly on the slumber-party circuit, but if it’s anything like church camp, I’m guessing like Truth or Dare, Would You Rather, that kind of thing. Adult versions.”

She bit her lip, trying not to laugh. “You know this sounds ridiculous, right?”

He dipped his head in defeat. “Yes, I’m very aware. I promise that most of the time, these get-togethers are non-cheesy and a good time, but the event planners go a little nuts sometimes. I guess the casino night we had last month wasn’t exciting enough for them.” He met her gaze. “But I understand if you want to bail and wait ’til next time.”

She clasped her hands together in front of her. “And miss the opportunity to see you in your footie pajamas? Not for a million dollars, Beck.”

He snorted.

“Seriously. It’s fine. I can roll with the silly theme.” She lowered her hands. “In fact, that takes a little bit of the pressure off. I was expecting some sophisticated secret society that I wasn’t going to fit in with.”

He frowned. “I wouldn’t put you in that position. The people that attend—at least the ones I know—are a good group. Open and friendly.” He leaned forward and waggled his eyebrows. “Interesting.”

“Your favorite,” she said with a smirk. “No, it’s fine. I’m still in. I’ll make sure Andi has pajamas to wear, too. This probably makes it even more enticing for her.” She shook her head, thinking of her friend’s general zest for things. “She’s going to love the hell out of this.”

“Awesome,” he said, looking genuinely relieved. “And if it sucks, I’ll take full blame.”

“Just as long as they don’t make me do a seance,” she warned. “When we did one at my friend Heather’s tenth birthday party, wedefinitelywere visited by the spirit of Jack the Ripper and I definitely called my mom to come pick me up and save me.”

He laughed. “No spirits of dead serial killers. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

She gave him a look. “Always making deals with you lately. It’s becoming a habit.”

“Guess you better hope I’m not the devil.” He winked and then turned to head out of the office. “See you tomorrow night, Eli.”

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