I picture Theo’s movie-star smile and try to emulate it, plasteringon the biggest one I’ve ever worn, my cheeks pinching from the force of holding it. But if Theo can do it, I can do it.
Millie cracks into bright laughter and pats my cheek. “Don’t force it. I like this, but I like you grumpy too.”
I turn and kiss her palm, and we enter through the game-store doors. Shelves and racks full of games surround us, and Millie’s eyes are wide as she looks around the room like she’s landed on a new planet.
“This is nerd heaven,” she says as she runs her hand along a shelf of games and picks one up.
I settle an arm over her shoulders. “Let’s pick one out.”
“Only one?”
“As many as you want.”
“Are you trying to sweet-talk me?”
“Possibly.”
“It’s working.” She shrugs.
Millie spends a while browsing through shelves as I follow behind her. I’ve always loved games. Clara and I played so much Yahtzee growing up that my nonna bought us our own personalized set for Christmas one year.
When Millie has filled my arms and her own, we walk to a table at the back and set them down to look through our choices. I sit in a chair, and Millie stands across the table from me.
“Okay, I picked out a few things that looked good for us to try,” she says, putting her hands on her hips and surveying her stack. By “a few” she means seven games. I have three in my pile.
“This first one is a twist on the classic Catan with aGame of Thronesflair.” She holds it under her chin for me to see.
“Trying to find a different version so you can beat me?” I tease, narrowing my eyes.
“I’ve already beaten you.”
“Fair and square?”
She bites her lips and sets the box down, avoiding my question. “Yes pile,” she says definitively.
“My first option is Wingspan.” I hold the game under my chin like she did and press my cheeks into a wide smile like I did outside. “Board Game Geek says this is excellent.”
She bites back a grin. “A generous wingspan is excellent.”
I look at the box in my hands. “What do you mean?”
A snorting laugh bursts out of her. “I wish Fable or Tessa were here. They’d get it.”
She can tell I’m lost and slides into the chair next to me to lean my way. “Okay, there’s a popular fantasy-romance series where the sexy heroes have wings, and they use the term ‘wingspan’ as a euphemism for a man’s...” Her gaze drops to my lap suggestively. “The size of his wingspan relates to the size of his...” Her eyes flare with meaning.
“The size of his pants?” I ask, feigning innocence.
She leans closer and sets her hand on my thigh. “No. The size of his—”
“Do you all need any help this evening?” a cheery voice asks from beside our table. We both glance up to find a tall young woman surveying our stacks of games.
“Hi, Deanna,” Millie greets her, noting her name tag. “We were discussing the importance of a good wingspan. Don’t you agree?” Millie stands with a wily grin.
I don’t know how she’s pegged this woman as someone who knows whatever language she’s speaking, but Deanna’s eyes sparkle with understanding, and she nods emphatically. “But sometimes the wingspan is more of an energy, you know? An aura about a person.”
“Totally agree.” Millie points to the game before me. “I say yes pile for that one.”
Deanna gives me an assessing once-over and sets her handon Millie’s shoulder. “You better put him in the yes pile too, honey.”
