End Game: A Gamer Romance Read online

  “Early days.”

  “Serious? Years?”

  “Funny how I never noticed how he felt.”

  I jab her hand with my pen. “You’re clueless.”

  My first customers approach and I summon a friendly smile, which to my mind looks psychotic thanks to the nerves. A guy in a yellow wig and a white suit, and a girl with a pink wig and tiny dress flick through my book, and they point out to each other images they like.

  “Cool pictures, dude.” The guy says and the girl nods in agreement as they select purchases.

  Transaction complete, I stare after them. Someone bought something. From me. Sure, I’ve worked in a store for years but selling my own creations face to face—different.

  “Wow.”

  “I hope you brought lots of copies,” remarks Erin and writes in a notebook.

  I crane my head. “What? Are you my accountant too?”

  “Hey, I need to figure out my cut.” She shakes her head and picks up her phone as a message alert sounds. Erin stands and looks around, between exchanged texts. Puzzled by her behaviour, I return to my sales role.

  The numbers grow, drifting from stall to stall, some stopping at mine, others not. I’m distracted by people’s costumes, annoyed I’ll miss watching the cosplay competition. I’ve chosen both days for the stall. A little ambitious maybe, but now a good plan.

  A tall, familiar figure squeezes between two people at my stall. Cole. He holds out a bag to Erin and edges behind the table.

  And kisses her cheek.

  “This is getting weird now, guys,” I say. “And there isn’t enough room for you both behind here.”

  With Cole’s arrival, panic rises. Erin’s about to leave me on my own. She opens the white plastic bag and hands me a pair of scissors from inside, before dragging out sheets of card.

  “Ta da!” she announces.

  “What’s this?”

  “Cole made them.” She smiles up at him. “If you cut these into squares, they’re business cards.”

  “They have my phone number on!” I half shriek.

  “And?”

  “People might call me.”

  Cole sighs. “Want me to cross that out? On all 200 cards?”

  Erin narrows her eyes at me and I sit onto the chair. “No. Thank you for bringing these.”

  “I’m taking Erin to grab something to eat. Want anything?” asks Cole.

  “All good.” My churning stomach could not handle food right now.

  “You okay if we go?” asks Erin and places a hand on my arm.

  “Sure. I have card to cut.” I hold out the scissors. “A lot of card.”

  “We’ll help when we get back,” Cole says.

  “Take your time,” I lie.

  The growing numbers block space and oxygen, despite the tall convention centre ceiling adding echo. My nerves drop as the hours passed, and without anybody to chat to I’m happy to have something for my hands to do.

  I cut the cards as best I can but the edges remain wonky. At least the logo looks semi-professional, anyway. Mental note: proper business cards if I do this again.

  A rush of customers later, and I check my phone. Erin left with Cole over an hour ago. Okay, they interpreted my ‘take your time’ as literal. I know Tyler and Spencer intend to visit and promised to seek me out, but who knows if they’ll find me?

  My stomach rumbles, reminding me skipping breakfast due to sheer terror wasn’t a good idea. I pull a muesli bar from my bag and crunch as I spend a few minutes admiring the costumes passing.

  The atmosphere matches that of any Con. Laid back, friendly with an energy filling the hallway that manages to negate the fact people are in closer proximity than usual. I’d lay bets some are like me and this is a rare day out for them.

  Erin agreed to take over the stall for a while later, allowing me a walk around others, and I’m eager to see if they have anything new to waste my hard-earned profits on.

  “Do you have any pictures featuring unicorns?”

  I glance up from my task and jerk when I see who’s speaking, almost cutting myself.

  Aaron.

  Bloody douchebag Aaron looking bloody annoyingly hot. I tense my jaw, against him and words that can’t be spoken without freaking out the people around us. Aaron looks older somehow, the lines around his eyes pronounced through tiredness, mouth straight as if he hasn’t smiled for a while. He’s guarded, arms crossed, not engaging with people around. Aaron fits in with his well-worn Fairy Tail tee, a nod to the anime show.

  “No. Sorry.” I return to my task, but attempts to cut a straight line are pointless now that my hands shake.

  “Okay, I’ll take a look through your folder. Have you anything new since I last saw your work?”

  A girl dressed in normal clothes leafs through my artwork, back and forth, for several excruciating minutes while Aaron stands close by. I sneak a look at him when he’s gazing around, his arms crossed, and his appearance confuses me.

  “On your own?” I ask him as the girl finally backs away. Without bloody buying anything.

  He blows air into his cheeks as he opens the folder onto the first page. “Yes. You?”

  “Erin’s around. She’ll be back soon.”

  He nods and slowly turns to the next page, as my blood drains from my head. “This is new. Your work gets better.”

  The other person studying the pictures on the board behind me wanders off.

  “Why are you here?” I hiss.

  He looks up, fixing me with those damn irresistible eyes, and the lost look grips my stupid heart. “I need to talk to you and I didn’t want to do this online.”

  “Do this? You came all the way to Perth to talk to me?”

  “No. I’m staying in Perth currently.”

  I swallow and look back to my card, squeezing back unwarranted tears. In Perth. Again.

  “Currently?”

  “The last few weeks. I didn’t think you wanted to talk to me, but I need—”

  He’s interrupted by someone asking the price for four pictures behind me, and I switch my focus away from the man I don’t want to see, but have ached to for weeks. When I look back over, he’s disappeared.

  My skin heats with angry frustration.

  “Dude, you look pissed off. What happened? Did someone steal from you?” Cole appears and sets a soda can in front of me. “For you.”

  Erin returns to her spot behind the table. “Why are you pale? Have you eaten? I told you not to skip breakfast.”

  “Yes, mum.” She flicks my nose. “No. I just saw a ghost, that’s all.”

  She blinks in confusion.

  “Aaron.”

  “What the hell? Where? If I see the bloody asshole, I’ll have plenty to say to him,” she retorts in a loud voice.

  “Are you talking about me?” I snap my head up to see Aaron’s reappeared at the table.

  Erin jumps and clutches at her heart. “Shit, you’re sneaky! And, yes, I was.”

  “Can I speak to Evie first?” he asks her. “Then you’re welcome to say whatever you want to me.”

  Erin fumbles with the cards, stacking them into neat piles. “Um. Sorry. That was rude. This is between you and her.”

  I cringe. Does Erin realise she’s giving away how upset I am over the whole situation? Because I’d rather she kept her mouth shut.

  Look at us: one big, happy, geeky family.

  “Jesus, guys, there’re more of you than customers around my table.” I wave a hand to indicate Cole and Aaron should step to one side. Cole does, and a guy slides through.

  Aaron doesn’t, remaining in place. “I’m a customer.”

  Please go away.

  “Can we talk?”

  “I’m busy. Not sure if you noticed.”

  “Cool, I’ll come back later then.” The expression tells me one thing. Aaron’s not leaving me alone until I speak to him.

  30

  Passersby dwindle as the day moves toward the end. Tyler appeared an hour
after Aaron, with tickets for the premiere screening of a new anime movie tonight, but I declined, too exhausted. I spent half the day on pins waiting for Aaron to reappear, but he doesn’t. Was I wrong? Did my not-so-subtle hint to leave me alone work? Earlier, I asked Erin to bring me lunch, and told her I no longer needed her to take over, and we both know why. I’m a huge coward, too scared to talk to Aaron if I bump into him.

  The conflicting emotions over his surprise visit are at least pushed away by my busy day. As the lull turns into a smattering of people only, I sort through my stock, shocked by how much I sold. A quick count shows I’ve only a handful of the most popular prints for tomorrow’s sales day.

  Wow. This isn’t megabucks but will certainly pay for something nice. Or, if I’m very sensible, add to my savings. An investment in a new drawing tablet for the future. My mind runs through the options but really, if I walk around the stalls here, half my profits will morph into t-shirts, Pop! figures and jewellery.

  A volunteer passes with a large black trash bag and an exhausted look as she picks items from the floor. The people along our sales alley have dwindled to nothing. I chat to the young girl beside me about her wooden jewellery-making process, and to the guy with his amazing digital art sitting the other side. He gives me advice on different printers and business growth ideas. These people accept me: amateur, unsure, me. By the end of the day, my pride swells my head, tempered by the worry Aaron will return. Because he will.

  “Do you need help clearing up?” Rhetorical question as Erin and Cole tidy items into one of the small boxes on the floor.

  “Maybe you could take the box to the car for me?” I suggest to Cole.

  “Are you staying for the movie?” asks Erin.

  “Maybe.”

  “Ugh. Really? I hoped you’d take me home. I don’t want watch it.”

  “What’s wrong with the movie?” asks Cole.

  She wrinkles her nose at him. “I don’t like cartoons, remember?”

  He exchanges a glance with me. “They’re not really cartoons, Erin.”

  “Uh. They are.”

  I dip my head, ready to ignore one of their ‘discussions’ over Erin’s inability to see the differences.

  “I’ll take you home,” he says with a sigh. “You okay to meet me here later, Evie?”

  “Yeah, I think Tyler’s meeting everyone outside the theatre upstairs, at about seven. Could see you there?”

  He glances at his phone. “Sure.”

  I’m knocked backwards when Erin throws her arms around my neck and places a kiss with a loud ‘mwah’ on my cheek.

  “What was that for?” I ask and steady myself on the table.

  “I’m proud of you! You did awesome. Are you proud of you?”

  “I guess. I mean, I don’t compare to some of these guys but I did okay.”

  “Humble brag,” mutters Cole.

  “Did Aaron come back?” she asks.

  My stomach lurches. “Not yet. I expect he’ll appear soon.”

  “Leave with us?” she suggests.

  I shake my head. “I’ll stay. I think he’ll come back tomorrow if I don’t speak to him today. I’ll listen to what he has to say.”

  The look the couple give each other is clear doubt. Sure, I’m on edge waiting for the man to reappear, but mostly because the anger is tempered by hope he’ll explain this is all a big mistake and why and he wants us… I scoff at myself. That won’t happen; all this will be is closure over our mess up. Perhaps he didn’t see the big deal. He’s a guy after all, and not as intuitive as I once thought.

  Whatever, I’m sick of second-guessing Aaron. If he can give me the truth, I can accept and move on.

  *

  Aaron walks straight up and sits on the chair behind my table, rather than creepy staring from a distance. I don’t notice at first as I’m busy loading cards into boxes, thinking the presence nearby is Cole or Tyler.

  No. He sits, arms between his knees as he regards me through exhausted eyes.

  “Hello again, Aaron.”

  “Evie.” He smiles but the smile doesn’t touch his eyes. What is with him? “I like you didn’t call me Thor. You only call me Thor recently.”

  “We’re not online. This is reality.”

  Aaron looks down at the paper bag he has in his hands. “I come bearing a tribute.”

  Now I frown, in confusion, as he hands me the bag. “You’re pale. Looks like your blood sugar dropped.”

  I peek inside and fight a smile as I pull out a thick, bright green liquorice rope. “Nice.”

  He takes the second rope from inside and tears the end with his teeth. “Reminds me of when we first met. The cute girl with the sweet tooth and—” He points at my chest “Unicorn lover.”

  I place my liquorice back in the bag, despite the overwhelming desire to bite. “I think I love mythical entities. Y’know, like people online who claim to want offline relationships.”

  He silently chews on his liquorice and watches. “Why did you refuse to talk to me when I called, following the time you saw me in the city?”

  “You hadn’t answered my texts or calls for weeks and then I bump into you with another woman. In Perth. Can’t you figure out the answer based on those facts?”

  “I should’ve come to see you before today, but things have been difficult.”

  No denial. Not the words I need: ‘No, Evie, she’s not my girlfriend. Lover. Wife. Elf on the side.’

  “Things? Okay. I’d rather draw a line under the experience. We had fun, I just wish you hadn’t ended things in such an immature way.”

  “How? I never ended anything. You wouldn’t talk to me.”

  The emotions locked away in a chest in the deepest recesses rattle against the lock, and I ignore them. “I felt like an idiot, that’s why. I always worried you might lie to me, and now understand what you meant about long-distance relationships. It’s cool, Aaron.”

  “No, it’s not.” He shifts in his seat, looking up. I’ve only met him in person a few times but there really is something different here. Not one twitch of smug or attempt to outwit; no clever words to sweet-talk me or break down my Hot Guy Resistance. He’s closer to the taciturn online Thorsday who rarely spoke for weeks.

  This isn’t the man who took me bowling, turned up at my house desperate to see me, eyes shining with happiness. Not the one I spent way too much time naked with when we were face to face.

  I pause in my tidying. “Are you okay, Aaron?”

  He fixes me with an unwavering look. Why expect him to answer a personal question? He never has before. “No.”

  Oh. “What’s wrong?”

  “Everything.”

  My chest tightens, how I grew to care for this guy overriding the hurt and anger. I rest on the edge of the table and soften my voice. Maybe he wanted to speak to an outsider, not connected with whatever’s screwing with his life? If that’s the case, coming to me is unfair.

  “What happened?” I ask. “You don’t look well.”

  “I need to talk to you and explain why I’ve behaved the way I have. Why I couldn’t say anything to you before.”

  “Say anything about what?” My eyes go to his left hand. Nothing, but my suspicion remains. “You are married, aren’t you? Or were? Have you come to tell me your marriage is over and now you want me?”

  “I’m not married, Evie.”

  “But there’s someone else, right? Who’s the woman from the cafe?”

  Aaron’s face changes, hard but against himself not me, and the sick suspicion taps me on the shoulder with a whisper: ‘I told you so.’

  “Not the girl you saw me with.” His voice is flat as he looks around. At the stalls, at the others packing items into boxes ready to leave. The floor. Anywhere but me.

  I fight the threatening tears. Why did he have to come and attempt to loot the chest where everything’s locked away? We were short lived. Over. He doesn’t get to loot because all he’ll find inside is now decayed.

  “W
ill you talk to me?” he asks. “I hate that I hurt you. That I hurt us.” He takes a hard bite of the liquorice and unable to resist anymore, I pull my strand out.

  Because liquorice so suits intense conversations about infidelity.

  “You have five minutes. But I don’t want to hear any lies.”

  “Not here. And more than five minutes. Come with me, and I’ll tell you everything. I promise. Even things I don’t tell other people.”

  “Go with you where?” I tense. “Tell me what?”

  Aaron stands and lifts one of the boxes, the muscles in his arms distracting me as they flex with the movement. “I’ll help you take these to your car and while we do you can think about whether you’ll listen. Let me know once we’ve finished up.”

  We make two silent trips to and from the large underground car park. Aaron carries most while I trail along behind drinking water and watching him. He doesn’t attempt to touch me, and even though we’re nowhere near each other, I’m resisting my body’s magnetic need to attach. A huge part wants to snap my hand in his and ask what’s wrong. If his vibe was guilt, I’d never do this, but his hovering sadness trumps everything else.

  Aaron swings the car boot closed. “Have you decided if you’ll talk?”

  “I need to. We need to, I guess.”

  For the first time, Aaron’s smile reaches his eyes. “Strictly speaking, you don’t, and could just tell me to piss off. I’m happy we mean more than that.”

  My mouth dries. We?

  “I just don’t like unfinished business, Aaron.”

  “Neither do I, but sometimes things take a long time to leave your life and settle your soul.” He rubs his bottom lip. “And some things never will.”

  “That’s very profound.” He doesn’t respond. “Where are we going? The petrol fumes in here are choking me.”

  I don’t invite Aaron into my car, or in the direction of my home. Petty maybe, but I don’t want to imply forgiveness. Man, I hold a grudge well.

  Instead, we head back into the Convention Centre and buy overpriced drinks in a small venue nearby. For five, infuriating minutes, little is said besides a few sentences about the game and the guild.

  Aaron pushes his empty cup across the table. “I can’t talk here. Please, Evie, I need to do this somewhere privately.”