Round 7

U sing the wall for support, I dragged myself to Shaun’s front door. If The Walking Dead needed more cast members, this would make for an excellent audition.

Reaching the door, I curled my hand into a fist and banged. If they were having sex, it should be done by now. I hoped.

But my bad luck continued. And instead of my two best friends, William opened the door. His dark eyes widened, and his lips parted.

But today was the one day I couldn’t handle his sarcastic nongreeting greeting, so I limped past him and dropped my bags on the ground before looking around. The living room and kitchen were empty, and the bathroom and Shaun’s bedroom door stood open.

“They’re not here,” he said.

I held back the fresh wave of tears that threatened.

William’s eyes traveled from my face down to my evil shoes. His eyebrows drew close as though trying to make sense of my clothing.

“Where are they?” My tone was desperate. “Both their cars are parked downstairs.”

“Out—they walked. Went to get dinner.” Still standing in the doorway, William’s gaze lingered on mine.

A traitorous tear escaped, and I wobbled toward the doorway. Of all the people to witness my breakdown, did it have to be William frikken Ashdern? I would never stop hearing about this.

He stepped aside, and I ground my teeth to block the pain.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice quiet. If he wasn’t the only person in the room, I would not have believed it was him talking.

“I’m fine.” I placed my weight onto my injured ankle and winced.

Reaching for the wall, I threw myself against it and inhaled a deep breath, then pushed myself forward. Before I could take another step, two large hands gripped both sides of my waist. With one quick flip, William threw me over his shoulder as if I weighed nothing.

“What are you doing?” I choked out as he carried me inside the apartment. “Put me down, you Neanderthal.” I’d never been stuck on someone’s shoulder before, so I banged my fists against his firm back, but it made no difference.

Once more, my body twirled around as he carefully placed me on the couch. It wrapped around me like a hug—one I desperately wanted. Before I could say anything, William kneeled in front of me and unstrapped my sandal with a light touch I didn’t know he was capable of.

A deep line divided his brows as he rotated my foot. “Does this hurt?”

“N-no,” I stammered, noting his hot palms before a shock of pain raced through me. I pulled my leg back. “Ow!”

Straightening to his full height, he went to the kitchen and returned with a bag of frozen peas, a glass of water, and a bottle of ibuprofen. “This should help with the pain. I don’t think it’s broken.”

“I know that.” I moved my feet to the floor, and my ankle throbbed. “That’s why I was leaving.”

“Don’t get up.” He walked back to the kitchen and dug around in a cupboard above the stove. “You shouldn’t put pressure on it. Plus, they’ll probably be back soon if you want to wait.”

I stared at his back and narrowed my eyes before downing the pills. “Why are you being nice to me?”

He returned with a bandage and wrapped it tightly around my ankle. “Shaun’s game continues, and I declare myself the winner of this round.” He shrugged, the corners of his mouth tilting upward.

Mine did too.

For a moment, I was confused by how carefully he cradled my foot. How was this the same person who communicated in grunts and groans? He looked like William, but he didn’t act like him. He wasn’t wearing pajama pants, either. Instead, he wore another pair of black jeans and a Star Trek T-shirt.

At no point did he look up at me. When he finished, he picked up his gaming controller and gestured to the TV. “You could join me. I don’t bite—unless requested.”

Ha. That was William, all right.

“What are you playing?” I asked.

“It’s a new Bloodbathers scheduled for next year. They want me to check it out and recommend some changes,” he said casually, as if that wasn’t the coolest thing ever.

“How did you get this job? It’s awesome.”

His dimple made a deep divot in his cheek. “After Walk of Death got some attention, Thunderstruck Games offered me a job. Apparently, I’d managed to do what they couldn’t.” His smug smile appeared.

It made sense, since Walk of Death had been the number one most-played game for ages.

I’d been a bit starstruck when I first met William, the creator of a video game I’d played over and over—though I’d never tell him that.

“Now I test and tweak their games while I toy around with my next idea,” he said, perching on the couch armrest.

“Is it Walk of Death Two ? There’s been rumors.”

His gaze snapped toward me, turning playful. “How would those rumors have reached you?”

“It’s one of my favorites,” I admitted. But that was only half-true. It wasn’t one of my favorites, it was my favorite, and I was sure nothing would ever top it. Unless there was a sequel.

The widest grin spread across his face, showing me a side of him he rarely revealed. It wasn’t lost on me that his cheeks were tinged pink too. “Favorite, huh? Makes sense why you’re so good at it.”

“Can’t believe I beat you at your own game, literally.”

He bit his bottom lip. “I let you win.”

I pulled a face.

He chuckled and, rubbing his neck, turned to face the screen. “I’m not working on a sequel. Walk of Death is exactly what I want it to be. There’s another idea that’s been plaguing me for years. I need to think it through a bit more. You’d love it.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me more.”

“Nah. Maybe I’d rather design a game impossible for you to win.”

An uncharacteristic cackle escaped me. “You’re so mean.”

He laughed too, a light, playful laugh that tickled my skin. It lifted the mystery that often clouded around him.

“I wish I could design games for a living,” I said, using one hand to ensure my coat was still completely closed.

Maybe that would have been my future if I’d given my Board-Game-in-Progress the time of day or entered that competition. Or maybe my game was terrible, and I’d end up exactly where I was now, except with more shame and rejection.

William looked at me, a spark of something I couldn’t name in his eyes. “I could check if there are any openings at Thunderstruck.” His gaze turned wicked, and the left side of his lips twitched up in a half smirk. “You’d make a great assistant.”

I lifted one leg to kick him, and he caught it. Sliding down to the couch, he lifted both of my legs with his free hand, placed a pillow on his lap, and then lowered my feet on top of it.

My heartbeat skipped, and I nearly retracted, but William adjusted the frozen peas and passed me a controller. “You should keep your foot raised.”

“Thank you.” I took the controller, trying not to think about my feet on William’s lap. Or on a pillow. But the pillow was on William’s lap.

From the corner of my eye, I spotted his dangerous smirk, and his eyes dipping down to his lap for a split second. “What?” I asked, ready for the attack, preparing for the real William to reappear.

He turned his attention to the game and mumbled, “Your feet aren’t quite as hairy as I imagined they’d be.”

The loudest guffaw poured out of me. Even at my own expense, I enjoyed the hobbit reference, but mostly I enjoyed how, in this moment where everything felt upside down, that one comment made me feel normal.

A sense of calmness washed over me, and I almost forgot everything that had happened less than an hour ago.

After a few minutes of playing in comfortable silence—and William’s gaze still focused on the screen—he sniffed the air. “Why am I smelling curry?”

“That’s racist,” I deadpanned.

“What?” He stopped the game and stared at me through wide, dark eyes. “No, I literally meant that I was smelling curry. I’m not trying to—”

A peal of laughter broke through the seriousness I had tried to feign.

His face relaxed, and he shook his head. “Not funny.”

I was surprised by my own laughter. Gaming was all the distraction I’d needed. “There’s butter chicken—oh, and ramen—in the bag I dropped over there. It’s unwanted and untouched, much like I am. You’re welcome to it.”

“I want it.” He dropped his controller and shifted my feet off his lap before standing. “Do you?”

Now that my stomach had released the tension, it grumbled. “Maybe a little ramen.”

While he heated the food, my phone rang, but it was too far away and getting up was not an option.

William picked it up and smiled at the screen. “It’s ‘Dearest Mummy.’”

My cheeks burned. “She saved it that way!”

“You know,” he said, ignoring my outstretched hand, “I’ve always wondered what kind of person raised you.”

“Go ahead.” I shrugged.

My mother would love this.

He slid his finger across the screen of my phone, which looked like a toy in his large hands.

“Hello, Rose’s dearest mummy.” He smiled, his dimple making an appearance again.

“Hello, young man. You have beautiful black eyes,” my mother responded, unconcerned with the stranger answering my phone.

William giggled. He actually giggled.

When he was close enough, I snatched my phone from his hand. “Hi, Mom.”

“Who was that?” Her eyebrows raised. Her hair stood in all directions, and I assumed the blanketed lump next to her was my sleeping father.

“William, Shaun’s brother,” I said. “What’s up, Mom? You usually give me a warning before calling. Is everything okay?”

“Ah, William—the mean one,” she responded.

From across the room, William’s eyes widened as he mouthed the word “mean.” I narrowed my eyes in his direction, and he failed to suppress a smile.

“Anyway,” she continued, “I had a dream about you. You had blue hair, and it looked amazing. You should absolutely dye it. You’d have to strip your majestic black hair within an inch of its life, but I think it would be worth it.”

“I’ll consider it,” I said with a smile, and when she was quiet, I added, “Mom, is that it?” My mother’s dreams were often lengthy and descriptive. I’d read novels shorter than them.

“Oh yes, the dream—you were sad. Something told me to call, so I’m calling. Are you okay?” She leaned so close that her soft brown eyes took up most of the screen.

It wasn’t the first time she’d done this, and most times she was right too. I nodded and whispered that I’d call her soon. While I could read from the lines on her face that she didn’t believe me, she also knew not to push. Instead, she shouted, “Bye, William.”

“Bye, Rosie’s mummy!” he called back as the microwave pinged.

I ended the call and a notification popped up—a text from Patrick.

Patrick: I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m drowning at the moment. I’ll come over on Saturday morning and make it up to you. It’ll be amazing ;)

The awful feeling of twisted anxiety returned to my body in full force.

“Your mom seems cool.” William walked back into the living room.

I shoved my phone face down. He didn’t need to see that message. He’d never let it go.

“What did you expect? She raised me,” I said.

A smile played on his lips. “That’s why I didn’t expect it.”

“What’s your mom like?” I asked as he handed me a bowl of ramen.

“Don’t know.” He lifted my feet and the pillow and then sat down before lowering them back to his lap. “She died when I was little, but my grandma showed me photos, and I look a lot like her.” His eyes glazed over. “And she had a wonderful singing voice… That’s all I know.” He shook his head, the focus returning to his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” I squeezed my eyes shut. I’d always known Shaun and William had different mothers—it was clear from their physical appearance alone—but I’d never questioned it.

I opened my mouth to say something more, but the pain coming off him in waves stopped me.

“Eat up before it gets cold and I have to reheat it for you.” He smiled. No dimple.

I wanted the dimple back.

“What’s your favorite game?” I asked.

He narrowed his eyes and swallowed his food before speaking. “I don’t think I have a favorite. My favorite is always the next one I’m working on. You?” An eyebrow cocked upward. “Other than Walk of Death , obviously.”

And the smile returned. With the dimple.

“Depends if we’re talking about Xbox, PlayStation, or PC gaming. I suppose I play Stardew Valley the most, but I have been enjoying Lady of War —and, of course, always DoTA .”

His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. “You play DoTA ? How come you’ve never mentioned it? I play it around you all the time.”

The shock was so satisfying that I couldn’t help grinning. Did he always have such an infectious smile? I blamed the dimple. Definitely. Maybe that was why he rarely smiled. It was too powerful.

William was frustratingly handsome. So much more handsome than I’d ever noticed. Well, maybe I had noticed. Anyone with eyes would have noticed. With his messy black hair, dark eyes, strong jawline, and wide shoulders, it was hard not to—but I didn’t care.

Although this was the first time I had his full attention, and it knocked the air out of me. He was usually distracted. Usually playing a game. Usually wanting to be anywhere but near me unless he was competing with me.

I shook my head, trying to clear those thoughts. “I didn’t want you to know how cool I actually am.”

Then, in a classy Rose move, I spilled broth down my chin. It ran down my neck and onto my chest, nearing the coat.

William grabbed a napkin from the bag and leaned forward, wiping it up. He was so close that I could smell him—butter chicken, pine, and lavender.

While I was caught up in his scent, he shifted closer and adjusted my legs until I was almost on his lap. He tossed the napkin aside, his fingers grazing my calf as he did it.

My breath hitched as I watched his finger slide up to my thigh and then back down. His touch was light and barely there, his chest rising and falling against my legs. Was I imagining it? But when I looked into his eyes, they were darker than I’d ever seen them. My heart thundered in my chest as he froze. The spell breaking.

We sprung apart at the same time. I cleared my throat while he grabbed his controller and resumed the game.

With shaking hands, I lifted the controller, but my mind raced and my heart hadn’t slowed.

What just happened?

Did I imagine that?

My body buzzed. What was this feeling? Why was electricity flowing through my veins and pumping my heart at an alarming rate?

No—I begged my mind to slow down. I had a boyfriend. And I was going to marry that boyfriend. William was simply a handsome distraction using his evil powers of seduction on me.

Before I could spiral, the door opened, and Neema and Shaun walked inside. I looked up and caught the surprise on their faces as they watched us playing in silence.

“Finally, Mom and Dad are home, and I don’t need to babysit any longer.” William turned off his game and grabbed his Nintendo Switch on his way to the balcony.

“Did his date get canceled?” Shaun asked me as he sat down. “He looks cranky.”

“He didn’t mention a date,” I said.

Now William’s clothing made sense.

“What happened to you?” Shaun pointed at my wrapped ankle.

“Tripped on the way up here.” I clutched the controller even though the screen was black.

Neema sat next to me, in the same position William had been minutes before. She wrapped an arm around me. “What happened?”

“It didn’t work,” I croaked out. “He sent me away, knowing I was basically naked and there to throw myself at him. Well, at least now I know to never try to seduce a man. I’m obviously a hideous little hobbit.”

Neema pulled me into a tight embrace. “Rosie, I think it’s time you and Patrick have the talk. You deserve better.”

“Better than Patrick?” I snuggled into Neema’s tight grip. “Have you seen him? He’s handsome, educated, and driven, and nice—well, mostly nice—and we’ve been together forever. I think he wants to marry me, which is kind of on schedule with my Life Goals, and I think this is a rough patch.” I wiped my tears before taking a deep, shaky breath. “Plus, look—he sent me this apology text!”

“Fine. Let’s go home. I’m driving.” Neema squinted her eyes at me and sighed. “But if he ever, ever makes you cry again, I will claw out those pretty little green eyes of his.”

She pulled me up from the couch, and I put all my pressure on my left foot, nearly tumbling.

Shaun hurried into William’s room and returned with a crutch. “Use this.” He held it toward me. “Luckily for you, William’s had a broken ankle.”

William.

“Uh—give me a second. I want to say bye to William.”

Neema quirked a brow. “Okay, well… I’ll pull the car around so it’s closer.”

Using the crutch, I wobbled onto their balcony and found William lying on a deck chair, his long legs dangling off the end. His gaze fixed on his console; Pokémon flashed on the screen.

“I wanted to say thank you for earlier, for everything,” I managed, fighting back the urge to say something sarcastic and the opposing urge to let my mind wander back to that moment on the couch.

“Sure, no problem.” He didn’t look up.

“It was nice having a safe space to lick my wounds in this awful outfit.” I was hoping to lighten the mood, but against my will, my voice cracked.

“With an awful outfit like that, there should have been licking involved.” He looked up, and his eyes flashed in a way I now recognized. He returned his focus to the game as if he’d said nothing outrageous. “Good night, Rose.”

With a mouth as dry as the desert, I managed a weak, “Good night, William.”

I walked back into the living room, where Shaun helped me out of his apartment and downstairs. But I couldn’t think of anything except the way William had looked at me. It wasn’t his usual disdain, not even his occasional playfulness.

Desire. There was no other word for it.

I begged my brain to let it go—to stop showing me his eyes. Stop making my skin tingle where his fingers had stroked my legs. Stop hearing him say my name as if it were the first time my name had ever been spoken out loud.

I begged my brain to stop questioning my relationship with Patrick.