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“We usually meet about six. We order food and drinks and wrap things up by about ten. Sometimes it runs later. Everyone works in the morning, so we try not to go too late. You’ll come?”

“Perhaps.”

“Say yes. I’d love to introduce you to my friends.” I turned to face him, but the shadowy interior of the Jeep stole his features and left him as nothing more than a silhouette. Regardless, I felt the intensity of his stare.

“Yes,” he whispered.

Neither one of us moved, and the eerie house and surrounding woods no longer mattered. Was I projecting interest, or did Mordecai feel the connection too? I opened my mouth to say… something, but he beat me to it.

“Good night, Ensley.”

“Oh. Good night.” I tried not to feel disappointed.

He got out, and I waited until he let himself into the mansion before putting the Jeep in gear. Instead of turning around and heading back to the main road, I stared at the windows on the lower level for a while, waiting for a light to come on.

Five minutes passed.

Ten.

The mansion remained dark as a tomb.

Hey Mom,

I don’t have long. DnD night, and my day is getting away from me. Had a last-minute showing this afternoon and a mountain of closing papers to complete. I’m sorry we missed our phone date last night. That really sucks about the food poisoning, and from your favorite restaurant too! I hope you and Grace are on the mend. Drink plenty of fluids.

Remember the handsome haunted mansion guy with the sexy accent I was telling you about? His eyes are actually red! I mean, not cherry red, but burgundy red. Rusty red? Like a Bordeaux you want to sip… or drown in. They’re so fascinating. Yes, I hear myself. Yes, I’m smitten. I can’t help it. If you saw him, you would understand. It’s like he dropped out of the pages of one of your historical romances. I can’t describe him. Lol. Go ahead. Make fun of me. I know you want to.

We had a semi-date on Monday night. I’m not sure if I’m allowed to call it that since I lured him out under the pretense of showing him around the city. Then, I proceeded to talk his ear off. He’s kind of shy, and I didn’t learn much about him, but he’s coming over tonight to meet the guys and get a crash course in DnD. I’m 80% sure there’s returned interest, but I won’t get my hopes up.

Anyhow, I’ve got to run. Feel better. Let’s plan to talk tomorrow night.

Love, Ensley

Opening my front door, I was greeted by a stack of pizza boxes, piled high with a case of beer and three bags of chips, behind which came the voice of my good friend Marsden. “Delivery.” The tower shifted, and Marsden scrambled. “No. Shit. Help! It’s going over.”

“Whoa.” I saved the beer but lost the chips, unveiling Marsden, or Mars as he preferred to be called, who saved the pizzas from catastrophe.

He grinned sheepishly. “Delivery?”

“I’m not tipping your ass. That nearly ended up on the floor, and PS, I thought we were having Chinese tonight.”

Mars shuffled past me and aimed for the kitchen. “Nope. Zig told me pizza. He said you forfeited your turn to choose dinner after ditching us Friday night. Too bad and so sad.”

“Come on. I had to work.”

“Don’t shoot the messenger. I do as I’m told.”

My loft apartment was open-concept, with an exposed-beam ceiling and windows that ran the length of one wall. They looked out on the street below and poured sunlight into the room during the day.

The main living area was divided into sections by furniture placement. The kitchen took up one wall, with a bar-top-style table nearby and stools instead of chairs. It also functioned as a counter since space was limited. The wall opposite held a massive TV. A thick rectangular rug in front was home to a couch, several cushioned chairs, and a large square coffee table I’d found at a secondhand store. We used the table for our Wednesday evening game night. It was cozier than the high-top and hard stools.

The back of the apartment was split into two levels: a walled-off lower section for a full bathroom, and a literal loft, accessed by a ladder that housed a moderate bedroom. I’d only fallen down the ladder twice in all the years I’d lived there, bruising my ego more than my body. Both times, I’d had a bit too much to drink. I’d since learned my lesson and slept on the couch on those evenings of overindulgence.

“I hear you invited a new guy.” Mars wiggled his brows as he unpacked the beer into the fridge. “Does he play, or will this turn into tutorial night?”

“He’s never played, but I thought he could sit with me and ride along the first time. I can explain the rules as we go and if he enjoys it, he can join in properly next week.”

“Who is this guy anyway?”