Round 1

I f life was a game, I’d made a wrong turn.

In my constant effort to achieve everything on my Life Goals spreadsheet, I ended up taking on too much work and enrolling in a postgraduate business course that I had very little interest in.

Which is why I was sitting in my office finishing up a mind-numbingly boring report while the sunset’s orange glow smeared itself across my desk.

Shaun, my office mate, wheeled over to me from his desk, his backpack zipped up and balanced on his lap. “Come to game night.”

If it weren’t for this report I would, and he knew that. Game night was my favorite night of the week. The only time I could forget about work, forget about my goals, and play board games. And at least half the time, I’d win.

“You’re not usually this persistent,” I huffed out and tucked a strand of my wavy black hair behind my ear.

An email notification popped up. I navigated to my inbox. More promotional mail.

One day I would print out all these emails and bury myself under their weight as punishment for signing up to so many newsletters.

Shaun scrutinized my laptop screen. “You’re not even working,” he said and shuddered. “For someone who lives her life via spreadsheets, your inbox is a nightmare.”

He was right, and sorting through it was one of the items on my growing to-do list. Once something was on the list, it had to be done. That was the rule I’d set for myself.

“Organized chaos.” I closed the window before spinning around and studying him. “This is the third time you’re asking, and the answer hasn’t changed: I have deadlines to meet.”

He met my gaze, and his golden brows jumped toward each other. After years of working together and playing games every Wednesday night, I knew all his tells.

“I’ll help you with your deadlines,” he said. “But you need to be there tonight.”

“What’s happening tonight?”

He broke eye contact and pushed himself back until his chair knocked against his desk. He hopped up and ran a hand through his blond hair, tugging as he reached the ends. “Rose Marie Jones,” he said.

He only used my full name when he was scolding me or about to tell me something big. I took a deep breath as I anticipated his next words. “Shaun Henry Ashdern,” I replied, mimicking his tone.

He nodded, gearing up for his big confession, but then shook his head. The bright fluorescent lights of the office threw a shadow along the lines of his forehead while he fumbled his words. “I’m proposing to Neema and you’re our best friend and I need you there,” he rambled off.

My ears perked at his words, and a number of squeals escaped me. I barreled into him.

He steadied us and chuckled. “I take it you approve? I know you had your engagement scheduled before ours, but… I can’t wait. I love her. I just—”

“Of course, you fool.” I pushed him away, trying to think of something better to say, but there weren’t words to express my joy or the strange curdling sensation in my stomach that I chose to ignore. “I’m updating my Life Goals spreadsheet anyway. That deadline has come and gone.” I offered him a smile, hoping it seemed as genuine as I wanted it to be. “I am so happy for you, but I wish you’d told me sooner. I could have helped you plan something.”

“I ordered flowers?” he said as though it were a question. “And I couldn’t rely on you keeping this a secret. Rose, you’re terrible with secrets.”

I shrugged, not bothering to deny it.

“But I am relying on you for everything else,” he continued. “We have an hour and a half, so let’s grab all the party supplies you keep in your desk drawer and get out of this place.”

Shaun wasted no time dragging me out of the office. The sea breeze from the San Diego Bay was pleasant against my skin as we stepped outside, and I hurried to match his long stride.

Within fifteen minutes, we reached his upscale apartment.

He unlocked the door and skipped into the living room. His excitement was finally overriding his nerves. He spun around at the same time my phone pinged.

“I don’t trust you,” he said, extending his hand palm up and wiggling his fingers.

I narrowed my eyes and clawed my phone from the depths of chaos, also known as my backpack. Neema’s name flashed across my notifications. Before I could consider replying, Shaun snatched my phone. He walked into the adjacent kitchen and placed it on top of the refrigerator. His cheeky smile mimicked mine.

The click of a door opening drew my attention. William, Shaun’s half brother and my number one gaming nemesis, walked out of his bedroom and settled on the gray couch like a dark cloud. He stretched out his long pajama-clad legs and leaned back before lifting a controller and resuming the game that had been paused.

“Hobbit,” he said, his voice gruff and rarely used except to antagonize me.

I trudged toward him and scowled in his direction even though he wasn’t looking at me. I was sure he could feel it, based on the smirk threatening at the corner of his mouth.

While I was proud of my hobbit height, and even cosplayed as a hobbit not once but twice—despite having never seen a brown-skinned hobbit on-screen—I still didn’t like the way he said it, which was every single time since Shaun first introduced us.

“William.” I gave him a sickeningly sweet smile before stepping in front of him and blocking his view. “Could you please remove yourself and change into your formal pajama pants?”

Teasing William was one of the games I liked to play.

“My formal pajamas?” He hit pause and met my gaze. A familiar mask settled over his almost-black eyes, making him impossible to read. “What’s the occasion? Is Gandalf coming for tea?”

Teasing me was one of his .

I crossed my arms and made a dramatic show of rolling my eyes. “Oh, stop being so bitter because I beat you last week.”

“One time.” One of his dark eyebrows cocked upward. “What of the three weeks before that? Need I remind you of that time you—”

A whoosh of air escaped me before he could retell my most embarrassing loss. “Don’t start with that. You’re picking a fight.”

“Ah, babe, I’m a lover not a fighter.” He winked at me and then returned his focus to his game despite me standing right in front of the TV.

Everything William said was measured to get the biggest reaction out of me.

And it always worked.

I stomped over to my backpack and grabbed the bunting before climbing onto the other couch. “Don’t call me babe ,” I snapped, irritation still burning through my veins. William had a way of getting under my skin when he wanted to. Which was often.

My foot sank in between the cushions, and I wiggled it loose.

“Where is our Perfect Patrick this evening?” William’s tone dripped sarcasm from directly behind me.

He leaned close and took the end of the bunting from my outstretched fingers before sticking it against the wall. I hadn’t even heard him get up.

“He’ll be here,” I said, hoping my boyfriend would see my text and arrive in time.

I hopped off the couch and met Shaun in the kitchen, where he was messily—and frantically—icing cupcakes.

“Could you maybe make a pot of coffee? Or tea? She prefers coffee, right?”

It was clear Shaun needed reassurance.

“You know what she likes. Stop panicking.” I pushed him aside and handed him a broom. “I’ll take over here. Go be useful somewhere far away from the kitchen. Sweep the balcony.”

His smile reappeared, and he bounced away, resembling an eager golden retriever. There was no one more cheerful and good-natured than him.

While he was out of sight, I climbed the counter and retrieved my phone from atop the refrigerator. Glancing at it, I sighed. No reply from Patrick. I dialed his number, and it rang a few times. No answer. He couldn’t miss game night tonight—he couldn’t miss my best friends’ engagement.

“All this setting up would go much faster if we didn’t have guests standing around playing on their phones.” William’s deep voice reached across the living room as he packed away his controllers. “Shaun should have placed it higher.”

In the time I’d looked away, he’d also managed to hang the other banner.

I shoved my phone into my pocket. “I can climb anything.”

William straightened, and his mouth kicked up on one side to reveal the mischievous smirk he wore far too easily. “Good to know.”

Wicked man.

I grumbled and slid off the counter, landing on the floor at the same time William stepped into the kitchen carrying an empty glass. He stopped inches away from slamming into me. I craned my neck and looked up at him. His height always took me by surprise.

William was tall—like really tall. Thor-tall, except Shaun was the blue-eyed, blond-haired brother. William’s eyes were dark, nearly as dark as his black hair and long eyelashes, and probably as dark as his soul.

“Where’s Sexy Stacey?” I took a few steps back and picked up the almost-empty piping bag as Shaun came back inside.

William’s eyebrows drew together, and the line dividing them deepened. There was a shadow cast across his irises, but I imagined them going a shade darker.

“We broke up.” He gave a half shrug, placed the glass on the counter, and turned on his heel before walking across the living room to his bedroom.

“ Aaaah ,” Shaun groaned, stumbling to lean against the kitchen island. “Forgot to tell you she’s been hooking up with her manager, and when William called her out, she said some nasty things to him and blamed him for a bunch of stuff that wasn’t his fault.”

“Maybe it was true.” As soon as I said the words, I regretted them.

Shaun raised an eyebrow in warning.

William reappeared holding a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, his eyes narrowed as they always did before he said something snarky. But Shaun raised a hand, silencing him, and gestured for him to join us.

“What now?” William asked.

Shaun released a long sigh. “Since the two of you can’t communicate like adults unless it’s a game, tonight’s game is: Play nice and don’t ruin my proposal or I am going to kill you both.”

William was shaking his head at the same time I’d started nodding.

Play nice. I could do that. I could win that.

“Sure.” I flashed William my nicest smile.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Shaun said, pointing at my face. “Now you.” He looked over at his brother.

William only sighed. A quick eye roll let me know I’d won this round.