“Blueberry mojito for the bee queen,” he said, setting my usual in front of me with a flourish. His voice was low, warm, the kind that made you feel like you’d known him forever, even if you’d never seen him outside of his workplace.
“Thanks, Nero.” I took the drink, smiling up at him.
He really was a good-looking guy, rugged in that freshly rolled out of bed kind of way. Not that I was looking. Much.
He winked and moved on to the others. “Cider for the bard, whiskey sour for the rogue, and . . . Jo, are you still on that fancy lager?”
“You know me too well,” Jo said, accepting the bottle with a grin.
Nero set the pretzel basket in the center like an offering and headed back out with a casual, “Holler if you need anything,” over his shoulder.
The door clicked shut, and Nessa cleared her throat, tapping her binder. “Alright, folks, let’s get this campaign moving so Coach Daddy can get some before the baby wakes up.”
We dove straight into the game, picking up right where we’d left off last session. Our party, fresh off slaying a corrupted dryad in the Whispering Woods, had stumbled into a fog-shrouded village plagued by zombie elflings.
Nessa took over narration duties tonight, her voice dropping into that perfect spooky register as she described the eerie silence of the abandoned streets, the flickering lantern light, and the first tiny, shambling figures emerging from the mist.
Clarke’s ranger went full stealth mode, scouting ahead and nailing a perception check that revealed the elflings weren’t undead at all—they’d been cursed by a hag’s bargain gone wrong.
It took three rounds of chaotic, hilarious combat, complete with a near total party kill when the hag herself showed up and charmed half the party, but thankfully, we were able to fight her offandtake home some treasure in the process.
As we divvied up the fictional loot, the conversation eased away from the table. Clarke leaned back, stretching her arms overhead. “Y’all should know that we finally set a date. May 1st. You’re all invited, obviously.”
Dani reached for her phone. “I’m literally making a note to request a babysitter now.”
Nessa raised her glass. “I’ll bring lots of tissues.”
June smirked. “And I’ll bring a flask.”
Clarke rolled her eyes, then turned to me with a hopeful glint. “Belles, do you think you’ll want a plus one? How did things go with that guy the other night?”
I snorted into my mojito. “Bad enough that he unmatched me before I made it home. But . . .”
The table quieted for a beat; everyone’s attention settled on me.
“Something did happenafterthe date.”
Clarke set down her pretzel mid-bite.
“And before I tell you, you have to promise to let me get it all out before you get all weird or loud, okay?”
“I resent that,” June said. “I’m weirdandloud.”
I lifted a finger. “I’m serious.”
“Wewill contain ourselves.” Nessa eyed the rest of the group. “I promise.”
“Okay,” I relented finally after they all nodded, some more convincingly than others. “Okay.”
I took a breath.
“Bennett kissed me.” The words tumbled out before I could overthink them. “At my door, after my date. It was intense, tosay the least, andoh god,I never wanted it to stop. But then, I told him I was . . . inexperienced and he disappeared after that. Three days, not a word. And now, I’m worried he’s going to treat me like I’m made of glass. Or even worse, that he regrets kissing his teammate’s sad, virgin sister.”
The room went dead silent.
Five pairs of eyes stared at me, wide and unblinking.
Nessa’s mouth was buried behind both hands, Clarke looked like she was physically holding back a squeal with every muscle in her face, and Jo had his hands clenched in Dani’s.
