I stepped closer and poked his chest. “I not only play, but I bet I can beat you at any game, anytime, anywhere.”
He caught my finger in his hand and yanked me a little closer. Our bodies weren’t touching, but another half a step, and we would be.
“Street Fighter. I know I can kick your ass at Street Fighter.”
“Pssh, you wish. Especially not when I’m playing as the best fighter in the game.”
He narrowed his gaze.
There was a pause.
“Chun-Li.”
“Ken.”
I inhaled sharply, and Don’s hand tightened around mine. We stared into one another eyes, both coming to the same realization.
“No freaking way,” I said.
“DeniseGamerChick.”
I slightly bobbed my head. “WFDPlayer04.”
His lips twitched into a grin.
“That’s impossible.” My voice was barely a whisper.
All the conversations I’d had with WFDPlayer04 came rushing back—the late nights when I couldn’t sleep and found him online, the easy back and forth we shared that seemed to flow naturally. It was the same as the conversation we’d just had in the pizzeria.
No wonder it felt so familiar.
I lost track of time as he consumed me with his gaze. He continued to hold onto my hand with his right hand, and I didn’t have the slightest inclination to pull it away.
It was quite the opposite.
As soon as I recognized the desire to draw closer to him, Don took a step forward. His left hand cupped my face, and he traced the outline of my lips with his thumb. There was a fluttering low in my belly, and a small moan escaped my throat.
He bent, lips hovering above mine. “We’ve been in this position before.”
I swallowed, remembering that night three years earlier, and nodded.
He dipped his head.
Someone called his name.
“Glad I caught you,” one of the firefighters from the station said, approaching from the garage. “Good, you found her.”
He looked young, probably early twenties, which led me to conclude that he was likely a rookie. Or at least one of the newer members of the squad.
“Found who?” Don asked, his hand still cupped around the side of my face.
I tried to move back and out of his embrace, but his hold on me tightened.
“Cynthia. She called looking for you. Said you had a hot date tonight.” The guy wiggled his eyebrows then looked down at me. “Nice to meet you face to face, Cynthia. Don talks about you all the time.”
My eyes widened and I, more forcefully, pushed out of his hold. “Does he?” I asked, glaring at Don.
“He’s fucking lying,” Don roared, narrowing his gaze on the other firefighter.
