“Really?” She tilted her head to look at him.
“Really.” He smiled back at her. “I’ve heard the creator might win some pretty big prizes one day. And that there are spicy sex scenes—I don’t remember anything like that in the football game I used to play. I think it’s time I saw what all the fuss is about.”
She grabbed a couple of controllers and started loading the game before turning one of her screens to face him. But before she clicked start, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, whispering, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“You’re the first person in my life—outside Dangerous Business—who’s ever wanted to play.”
Fuck. That was a travesty. He kissed her quickly. “People suck.”
She huffed out a chuckle, looking a little lighter. “Most people,” she agreed. And then she added softly, “Not you. I’m so grateful for you.”
Her quiet words reached into his heart and lanced a wound he hadn’t even known he carried. He was important to Ellie. And she was important to him.
It didn’t take long for him to get used to the controls, or to become completely immersed. She’d created a stunning world full of shadowy twists and dark humor.
Their characters were so customizable that it was almost like looking at himself beside Ellie on the screen. They were both photojournalists following a story about unexplained disappearances around the Callanish Standing Stones only to discover that people were being sucked into Fae through a shadowy rift that had opened between the stones. And then they were ensnared themselves—dragged into Fae with nothing but the clothes they were wearing and the cameras in their hands.
From the first moment, Ellie took photos in the game, saving them to a shared in-game album. Which meant he now had pinned pictures of his character leaping into the air when the first haggard wraith leaped from a tree, shrieking and wailing in its swirling, tattered cloak… in fairness, he had almost peed himself in real life. There was a whole action sequence from when he was distracted for a moment and a twisting root wrapped itself around him, tightening relentlessly until he realized he could only escape by biting it. And his character’s red face when he stumbled on a ring of fairies and stepped closer, thinking they were dancing, before realizing they were all completely naked. And they were definitely not dancing.
Ellie thought it was hilarious.
They eventually found an abandoned cottage in the middle of the ancient—sentient—forest and made it their home. Ellie showed him how to dig a well for fresh water and saved him from eating the attractive-looking loaf of bread seemingly discarded in the pantry. Although part of him was tempted to experience the weird, distorted visions Ellie promised him eating fae food would guarantee, he did not want to risk the unpredictable symptoms—suddenly turning into a newt or losing the abilityto speak at a crucial moment further into the game—she’d also promised.
Probably his favorite was the time they spent sparring with the swords he found shoved into the cottage’s thatch roof. Ellie stood under a tree and watched with amusement while he tried to increase his skill level by practicing on a scarecrow in the overgrown garden, until finally she took pity on him and explained that the whole point was for it to be a cooperative game. He could improve his skills alone, but it would take five times longer than if they worked together.
It was so clever. Everything about the game reminded him of her. Thoughtful and quirky. Collaborative. And so very beautiful.
By the time the laptop clock showed midnight, he was just starting to get the hang of the game, and he didn’t want to leave it. The deeper they’d trekked into Fae, the more the surrounding shadows seemed to come alive. Strange creatures skittered and chattered in the forest, and he wanted to find another shelter. But Ellie was yawning and rubbing her eyes, and he forced himself to save and quit.
He turned toward her, capturing her knees between his. “I love your game, Ellie. It’s dark and magical, and, honestly, even better than I expected.”
“Thanks.” She smiled, a hint of pink on her cheeks. “I have a great team. I mean the art alone is magnificent, never mind the score, the coding?—”
He leaned forward to press a kiss to her mouth. “I’m sure all of that’s true. But you’re at the heart. All those little details came from your mind. Where did you get your ideas for the world?”
She answered slowly. “When I went to college, I decided to get help for my panic attacks, and I found a fantastic therapist. She taught me this technique of building a safe place in my mind.” She leaned her cheek into his hand, and he moved closer, loving the way she trusted him to hold her when she wasvulnerable. “I kept picturing going back to the same cottage in a forest, and then I started to expand it.” She huffed out a laugh. “You don’t want to know how many lectures, and then boring meetings, I daydreamed my way through, imagining this slightly weird world.”
“Weird maybe, but that’s what makes it so glorious,” he replied before kissing her again. And then again.
She slid toward him, her hands coming up to linger on the back of his neck, pulling him closer as he sipped at her lips, tasting her, wanting even more.
“Let’s go to bed,” she said between kisses.
He moved before she’d even finished speaking. He wrapped an arm around her back and one under her knees and lifted her as he stood. She giggled, face flushed, and the sound of her laughter sang through him as he carried her up the stairs to her room. He wanted that for her. Laughter and joy, even when the day had been so bleak.
They stripped slowly, kissing and laughing and teasing. And fell into each other gently at first, and then more forcefully. Entirely present. Entirely connected.
He didn’t remember the details of his life, but he knew, deep in his soul, he’d never felt so close to anyone before.
When she fell asleep in his arms, he held her close and lay for long hours feeling her chest rise and fall as she breathed. And he listened to the owls outside, calling to each other as they built a home together despite all the dangers of the night forest.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Victoria brushedher hair a hundred strokes before carefully styling it in the way Warren liked best. Another text message from Ellie flashed across her screen, so she turned her phone face down.
She had to look her best for her interview that morning. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t feeling her best. Or that she didn’t really want a new job. Or that leaving Dangerous Business felt like some kind of bereavement. Trying to login from home and realizing that all the passwords were changed was like a punch in the face. And then, yesterday, she’d picked up Ellie’s voicemail confirming that she had declined Silver Wolff’s offer. God.
