“Really. Given the choice, I’d much rather have—” My gaze collides with his and I stop myself just in time, pressing my lips closed.Sex. I’d much rather have sex. With you.
His eyes linger on me for a moment longer, then he slides the box back across the table without saying anything more. I stuff it in my bag, mentally cursing Alex. Then I pick up my coffee and take a long, slow sip, looking anywhere but at Luke and trying my best to pretend that whole thing did not just happen. Because if I allow myself to acknowledge it did, I willdie.
Luke reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, glancing down as it buzzes in his hand. When he sees who’s calling, his eyebrows slash together and he stares at the screen, his mouth in a thin line.
I glance between him and the phone. “Are you going to answer that?”
“Yeah,” he mutters. “If I let it go to voicemail, I’ll never hear the end of it.” With a heavy breath, he hits the talk button and lifts the phone to his ear. He gives me an apologetic look and rises from the table, stepping a few feet away.
I know I should mind my own business, but I’m curious about who would make Luke that reluctant to answer. As he speaks, I find myself leaning across the table, straining my ears to listen.
“Yes, I know,” I hear him say over the din of the cafe. “I already—” He pauses, his shoulders tense. Maybe it’s a work call. “Okay, but you said to—” Another pause, and when he speaks again his voice is louder, agitated. “Yes. That’s exactly—” Whoever it is, he can’t seem to finish a bloody sentence. “Fine. Yes, I will.” Shit, maybe it’s Dena. “I said I will.” He lowers the phone from his ear, and I realize that’s the end of the call. Not even a goodbye. What the hell?
He pinches the bridge of his nose for a second, then pockets his phone and turns back to me.
“Everything okay?” I ask tentatively as he settles back in at the table.
He shrugs, reaching for his coffee. “Just my dad.”
What? That was hisdadnot letting him get a word in? Jesus, what is that guy’s problem?
I frown, watching the way Luke sips his coffee as if nothing has happened. Something comes back to me from the night I learned about his divorce—something about his father being difficult. If that phone call is anything to go by, Luke wasn’t kidding.
I open my mouth to ask him about it, but when Luke looks at me with a smile, I bite my tongue.
“Want to play something?” he asks, gesturing to the shelves, and I feel a little thrill. “Go pick a game.”
“Okay.” I rise to my feet and take in the shelves lining the left wall of the cafe. I haven’t played a board game with anyone for a while; Steph doesn’t like them, and the club hasn’t run for a couple of years now. But it’s okay, because I know the game I want to play. My lips tug into a smile when I spot it on the shelf.
The game is calledWisdom Questand it relies mostly on strategy—which means the more you play it, the better you get. The object of the game is to take your character on a journey around the board, collecting wisdom and powers. You can use the powers of the different cards to block other players from moving forward and to steal their wisdom.
Luke watches as I unload the board, the game pieces, and the card deck. Once everything is set up, I walk him through how to play. I kind of expect him to get bored, because it’s pretty detailed, and I keep getting distracted and going off on tangents about the characters and their various back stories. But I’m surprised to find he’s listening intently, his eyes lit with interest, watching me.
We begin playing, and when I place down my first card—aSwift Journeycard, to help me on my quest—I’m hit with a wave of happiness. I haven’t played this game in so long and I miss it.
Luke plays a card and moves his game piece with a grin. He’s picked it up easily and seems to be enjoying himself. I can’t explain the strange feeling in my ribcage as I watch him play.
“What is it about board games, then?” he asks, draining his coffee and setting it aside. “Why do you love them so much?”
I play another card, thinking. “I guess there’s an element of escapism. For a few hours you’re in another world, not thinking about your own life. Plus, it’s like a tiny universe that I can manipulate and control. I can use strategy, take risks and explore various outcomes, without worrying too much about how it will end. I want to win, but that’s not really the point for me. It’s about playing with different outcomes.”
Luke nods, moving his game piece forward. “It sounds a lot like video games. Do you ever play them?”
I shake my head, pushing my glasses up my nose.
“You’d like them, I think. Escapism, strategy, adventure.” He plays a card, then looks up at me with a secretive little smile. It’s not until then that I notice he’s attempting to back my character into a corner.
My lips curl wryly. “If you think you can distract me from what you are doing with conversation, you are wrong.” I know this game better than him. I set down a card that sends him halfway back around the board and he laughs.
“Not at all. I’m enjoying talking about games with you.”
I meet his gaze, expecting to see another mischievous sparkle there, but his expression is genuine and open. He means what he’s saying, and that realization creates a warm glow in my chest. He brought me to this place, knowing I’d love it. Hewantsto talk about—to play—games with me. He’s having fun.
And that makes me feel something I don’t want to acknowledge. Something that isn’t purely a physical attraction. Something else altogether.
I shove the feeling away and give an uneven laugh. “It’s your turn,” I say, gesturing to the board.
We play for another hour and a half, ordering more coffee, talking about board games versus video games. By the time we finish up—I won, of course—I’m equal parts relieved and disappointed.
