CerealKilla: Look at you admitting it.
I play a few rounds while we exchange a few messages. Mostly, I let the noise and focus drown out things in my mind. It’s like being on the ice. I’m able to move on instinct, block shots, and make calls. It’s what I’m good at. It comes naturally to me.
My eyes keep drifting to the clock in the corner of my screen. The bar closes earlier on Monday nights. Near the end of a match, I check the time again.
Brinley’s shift is almost over. The thought of her walking outside and up to the loft alone has me backing out to the lobby. I open my chat withCerealKilla. She’s still showing offline, but the replies keep coming like she’s right there.
I frown at the screen for a second before typing anyway.
Gotta run. I’ll catch you later.
A response pops up almost immediately.
CerealKilla: You losing that bad that you’re already done for the night?
I smirk, hesitating for a minute.
Got somewhere to be. Hit me up when you’re back online, and we’ll run another one together.
I shut everything down and set my controller on my dresser. Grabbing my keys, I pull on my jacket and pocket my cell phone.
My pulse kicks up at the thought of seeing Brinley again.
The house is quieter than it was earlier. Owen’s light is on as I pass his room, the low glow spilling into the hallway, but Talon and Kade are gone. I don’t stop to explain myself. I don’t owe anyone a play-by-play.
I step outside, the door clicking shut behind me as the wind cuts through, sharp enough to wake me up.
I don’t know what Brinley’s going to say when I see her. I don’t know if she’s going to shut me down or surprise me by letting me in. I don’t know if she’s ready to trust me or if I’ve already pushed too far.
All I know is I need to be there when she clocks out.
And maybe—if I’m lucky—she’ll let me walk her home, help her pack up whatever she’s been carrying alone, and follow me out to the farm.
Because this time, I’m not asking her to run.
I’m asking her to stay.
Chapter Twelve
Brinley
I was hoping work would give me a distraction. I could paste on a smile and keep my hands busy. I fall into the routine and keep my thoughts out of reach.
It didn’t work, though.
Ever since Cooper showed up in my life, something has changed. I keep circling back to thoughts of him, even when I don’t mean to. Everything feels heavier now, especially when we’re near each other, like every look holds something I don’t have the words for yet.
The unread message onDead Zoneweighs on me too. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that Cooper isRowdy87—the same person I’ve been gaming with for years. I keep wondering if that’s where some of this connection comes from. The unexplainable trust I feel with him, almost as if I knew him before I ever knew who he was.
And maybe that’s what’s throwing me off the most. That version of him online—the one who jokes, who doesn’t take anything too seriously, is different. And I hate that I’m starting to wish I saw more of that side of him in real life.
I attempt to log in from my phone to see if I can check my messages. Standing in the back room of Broken Saddle, I quickly type out a response.
For the rest of my shift, I keep sneaking glances at my phone whenever I get a second—between orders, while no one’s looking—refreshing the screen like I’m expecting something new every time.
Every time his name lights up my screen, a smile pulls at my mouth before I can stop it.
So when I look up after he told me he had somewhere to be and find him stepping into the bar, his eyes already locked on mine, my pulse trips. I start to wonder if he’s connected the dots too. If he realizes the girl he’s been playing with, the person behindCerealKilla, is me.
