Role Playing(49)

The words struck her. “I see that about you,” she said, not even monitoring her words. “You’ve got that quiet strength about you. I don’t know a lot of people like you.”

Then she immediately felt embarrassed. Seriously—what, and she couldn’t stress this enough, the hell? Was she going to start writing sonnets to the guy now?

She bounced to her feet. “I gotta go,” she said. “You all right from here? Need any meds? I loaded up the dishwasher, and the rest of the lasagna’s covered in foil in the fridge.”

He grinned, then got up slowly, balancing on his air boot. “Nah, I’m good. Probably won’t need anything more than ibuprofen, and then I’ll go read and then sleep, I guess.”

“Good.” She sent him a stern look, but still, she felt her resolve soften. “If, for some reason, you find yourself in a lot of pain, or you need . . . I don’t know, food, or whatever . . . you can text me.”

He smiled back. “Careful, Boggy,” he teased. “People will say we’re in love.”

It was like a splash of cold water in her face. “Emergencies only,” she said, wagging a finger at him. “Not ringing a bell like I’m your fucking butler. And I’m not scrubbing your back. Not that kind of party, pal.”

He chuckled. “I would never,” he said, which was quickly becoming one of her favorite quips from him. “Drive safe, and text me when you get home, okay? Just ease my anxieties and overprotectiveness?”

She humphed. Then she nodded sharply. They stood there in front of each other. She got the feeling that they should . . . do something. Hug? Shake hands? Wave in a weird way?

He leaned in, and in a panic, she did this weird bro hug that was, in a word, humiliating. Especially since he was taller than she was, and she almost brought him toppling down on her.

“You okay?” he said.

“Shut up.” She straightened her clothes and pulled her jacket back on. “Get some sleep.”

With that, she shut the door behind her. The cold night air was like a slap. She got into her car, her teeth almost chattering by the time she got the heater going. Slowly, she made her way up the winding mountain roads that led her back to her house. She really did hate driving in the dark.

Maybe I should’ve slept at his house.

But that would’ve been weird. Not that she didn’t trust him. But the fact that she did trust him . . . was perhaps not a great thing. Historically, her judgment when it came to people in general, and men in particular, was horrible.

Thank God he doesn’t seem interested, she tried to console herself. Because the last thing she needed was someone interested in her romantically, for more reasons than she could list on a piece of paper. But . . .

God, if she caught feelings, she would have to kick her own ass. This was not going to happen.





CHAPTER 21


GIVING THE SWORD TO A NOOB

It was now Saturday, and Aiden was absolutely miserable.

He’d actually been doing pretty well since Wednesday night, when Boggy (Maggie, he reminded himself) had helped him with food shopping and they’d binged Jujutsu Kaisen. Since then, she’d stopped by to check on him Thursday. The guild had done their weekly dungeon run, and she had smack-talked and brutally sliced her way through like the seasoned tank she was, earning accolades from the rest of the crew. It was actually even funnier seeing her brutality and picturing her tiny IRL self, or hearing her vicious insults in her relatively sweet alto.

Then, on Friday, they’d talked via cell while watching another movie, this time his choice—Buckaroo Banzai across the Eighth Dimension. It turned out she’d seen it before, and loved it, which made it that much funnier. She could actually quote it, and he laughed hard enough to tear up.

Sheryl had never watched his “nerdy” stuff, had not understood his sense of humor. She was sweet, and supportive, and would’ve probably taken a bullet for him when they were together . . . right up to the point when they weren’t together, and then she’d been tempted to shoot him herself. And in college, Jordan had been charming and vivacious, ushering him to parties and helping him fit in, loving him to distraction . . . but there had been pitfalls, too, and heavy expectations. In retrospect, as much as he’d loved them, he’d found himself being what the people he was in relationships with wanted him to be.

Not that two relationships is a lot of history to compare.

“Aiden!” Deb’s voice rang out. “C’mon! The game’s starting!”

He grimaced. Now it was Saturday afternoon, around three o’clock . . . and he’d been ambushed by Deb yet again, this time with a cadre of friends in tow. At his mother’s insistence, apparently.

“Your mother figured you must be bored, all by yourself, stuck in the house,” Deb had said when she showed up, armed with seven-layer dip and chips and an extremely bright smile. “I know it’s got to be pretty lonely. So I thought, if you couldn’t go out with your friends, why not bring your friends to you?”

“But . . .”

“I called Riley, he’s right behind me,” she pointed out, and true enough, Riley’s truck was parking on the street right in front of Aiden’s house. “And you know my cousin Patience.”

“Yes, but . . .”

“I also invited my friend Lisa and her husband, and Klara,” she said. “And a few other people from our church, and from the old football team. They love watching the Cougars play, and I figured you haven’t seen them since my party . . . and you weren’t able to stay long, because your stomach was bothering you. So now you can. It’ll be like a mini reunion!”