“I’ve got this handled. They’re not going to… shit!” One of the zombies slinked out of nowhere and gobbled up my character, causing us to lose that round of the game.
“What happened?” He turned to me with a look of bewilderment in his gaze. “You were supposed to take my lead.”
“I thought I saw an opportunity, and I took it.”
He pinned me with a stare. The look in his eyes deepened, and I wondered what went through his mind.
“That’s not how it works when we’re partners.”
A simple statement, but the seriousness in his voice mysteriously sounded as if he was talking about something more than just a video game.
“Trust has to be earned. I killed those three zombies back-to-back. I thought my strategy was solid.”
“You didn’t think to consult me about it?”
I pushed out my lips.
“It’s just a game, Don,” I said, starting to lift from the couch. He caught me by the arm, keeping me seated.
“What about when we’re not playing a game? Will you trust me then?”
“As I said, trust isn’t given. It’s earned.”
The hold he had on my wrist tightened, not painfully, but enough.
“We’re partners, Jocelyn. In every sense of the word. You can trust me when it counts.”
My initial reaction was to declare how ridiculous this conversation was. We were only playing a video game, but this talk had deepened to a level beyond video games and fake zombies.
Can I trust him?
Could I survive if I gave him what he was asking for, and he did what the men of my past did?
Would he make me feel like I wasn’t enough? Was I enough for him?
I swallowed and turned away, hating the questions rattling around in my mind.
“I’ll take your advice next time,” I said, giving him something but not everything.
He pressed tiny circles into my wrist with his thumb. “That’s all I ask.”
“We should head out to the gym.”
He stood and held out his hand for me to take, lifting me from the couch. When he was that close, doubting him didn’t even seem real. There was no way I couldn’t trust him when he wrapped his arm around my waist. The problem was when he wasn’t around. Doubts and my past crept into my mind.
“Let’s go,” he demanded, swatting my ass. “First, we get to see what intel your guy dug up on Rogers, and then I get to watch that ass do some squats.”
Thoughts of doubt and trust fell away as I laughed and swung my fist at his shoulder. I missed, but we fake wrestled to the door.
“Oh my goodness,I think my throat hurts from all that singing,” I said as we breezed through his front door, returning from the gym.
After meeting with Rick from the police department, we had a good workout that ended with Don acting a fool at the gym, singing 90s R&B at the top of his lungs.
My silly ass ended up joining in as we drove back to his place.
“Mine too. Maybe I should make us some soup for lunch,” he said as we entered his kitchen.
I loved Don’s kitchen. It was roomy with lots of natural sunlight filtering through the window over the sink. His gray, marbled countertops against the white cupboards, also allowed for light in the room. Apparently, the kitchen had been the selling point when he bought this place, seeing as how much he loved to cook.
