I hadn’t known what to expect when they’d first invited me to join. Sure, I’d heard of Dungeons & Dragons, but I’d always assumed—naively so apparently—that it was a game meant for teenage boys, not millennial women. Add that to the growing list of things I’d mistakenly prejudged over the years.
“Not to interrupt you,mi amor,” Jo said, weighing in. Like me, Jo was a transplant to Rose City. He’d moved here from Puerto Rico two years ago, as part of the new business initiative, to open his bakery, Would Smell as Sweet. The branding in this town was unmatched. Seriously, between Bed of Roses, Thorn Tavern, and Would Smell as Sweet, I had some competition cut out for me. “I don’t think any of us are going to be able to concentrate until we get through the latestClorendrama.”
My brows furrowed. “Cloren?”
“Your couple name.”
Oh, for heaven’s sake.
My stomach churned. I suddenly regretted that second Tequila Sunrise.
“Personally, I’m kind of partial toSaren,” June said.
"Isn't that a chemical weapon or something?" Jo asked.
“Enough!”
Nessa’s frustration echoed through the bar’s private event space. The irony of an erotic bookstore owner being our campaign's "dungeon master" wasn't lost on me.
“We’re never going to get through this if we don’t focus.”
“You’re right,” June told her. At the same time, Jo said, “Perdón.”
We all sat in silence after that. A silence that lasted approximately five seconds until—
“But it has to mean something!” June cried out. Nessa buried her head in her hands. “First, he carries you to safety—”
“He carried me out of the shower.”
“Then he tends to your wounds—”
“A couple of Band-Aids. That’s it.” Judging by her theatrics, you’d think June was the one penning and selling romance novels.
“You almost kiss, and now he’s buttering you up with your favorite coffee. What’s it all mean?”
“Clarity check,” Nessa said, peeling back her hands. Our matching looks of confusion made her add, “You want to talk about it, you roll for it.” She held up the twenty-sided die. “Roll for a clarity check.”
June and Jo both rolled their respective dice.
“Seven,” Jo whined.
“Nat twenty,” June said, pumping her fist in the air. Nothing beat a natural, ornattwenty.
“Fine,” Nessa grumbled. “You have two minutes to gossip about Clarke’s sexy neighbor.”
“There’s nothing to gossip about,” I protested.
“He clearly likes you.” June smiled wide, cupping the mulled wine in front of her.
“He does not,” I said emphatically.
“He doesn’twantto, but he does. You have that in common.”
My cheeks warmed, and I couldn’t even blame that on the alcohol. Dang it, she was right. At least about me. I didn’t want to like Soren, and truly, I didn’t know if like was the right word. Nonetheless, I was drawn to him. Reluctantly so, but still.
“It doesn’t matter,” I told them. “I just got out of a relationship. The last thing I’m looking for is something as crude and complicated as Soren Sinclair.”
“I don’t know,” June said. “Crude and complicated sounds pretty good to me.”
