Page 10 of Playing For Keeps

He had to be, at least outwardly, because he was uneasy about how quickly she’d managed to worm herself into his day with her text messages. It was alarming how dread no longer slapped him in the face whenever his phone beeped—expecting nothing but work. Instead, he hoped it was something from her, something to look forward to. Sebastian held onto the little semblance of control he had left. He tried to wait a while before responding. It wasn’t especially hard to do given how inundated he was with work, but it was difficult not to feel bad about it.

In the evening, when his computer screen went dark and all that awaited him was dinner and sleep—it was harder to ignore the need to respond immediately, to not get lost in the gray and blue bubbles popping up between them on the chat screen. It was all surface-level stuff, but still way too much, way more than he’d bargained for.

Sebastian hadn’t entertained this possibility. In all his careful planning and working toward what he wanted—it never occurred to him someone like her might derail all that. When he swore off attachments after the betrayal last time, he vowed not to let himself get carried away again. He worried about what awaited Friday night.

It was silly to expect it to be like the week before, just the two of them amped up on a game and the stakes enough to keep him invested. This time, he’d be in a group—all Farren’s friends, in their comfort zone—with him the odd one out. He’d have to make small talk. The insecure part of him, the part he carted along with him since childhood, dictated he’d have to make them like him. He had to make her like him.

Even though he didn’t have time for it.

Even though this was the exact opposite of what he was supposed to be focused on.

So, he lied. To himself mostly. He told himself he was only going there to defend his honor; Sebastian wasn’t a man who lost often and never took it well. In a way, it was accurate. It did sting, losing to her. But somehow, it was easier that it was to her and not someone else.

His competitive streak would have to be enough to see him through another night. Sebastian couldn’t deny he’d been more relaxed leaving game night than any other that week. He’d slept well without having to exhaust himself first.

But as the week dragged on, more and more work got piled onto his plate, until the threat of having to work late or come in on the weekend appeared more likely. His supervisor called them into their daily meeting, reaming them out, reiterating how the contract hung in the balance and it took precedence.

“The client comes first” should have been emblazoned on the front of the building instead of the company name. It was a creed, a lifestyle they’d all signed up for. For the most part, it would have annoyed him a little bit, but Sebastian would do it without questions asked. He had vowed to put work first, to avenge his reputation.

But on Friday, when his boss informed him no one would be leaving until the project was sufficiently handled, it irked Sebastian more than usual. Somehow, over the course of the last week, over the numerous text messages they’d exchanged… he’d gotten excited.

Something in his stomach gave a sour curl, displeased at having to bow out. Canceling made it seem like he was going back on his word. Sebastian didn’t like that one bit. His intent after he left Ohio was clear. It wasn’t a new concept, and it would continue that way. He’d already seen his work derailed once, so dedication to seeing it through this time was paramount. It hadn’t chafed too much until now.

He pulled out his phone after the meeting. The little clock in the corner of the screen lit up with four-thirty in the afternoon, less than an hour until he usually would have gotten off work—less than an hour’s notice from his boss to say they would all be staying late.

Pathetic.

Unacceptable.

Unavoidable.

Sebastian pulled up their chat, fingers hovering over the phone keyboard as he thought of what to say, of how to keep her from being disappointed in him.

When he accepted there was no avoiding it, he sent the message.

Hi Farren. We just got told we all have to stay late.

There’s a massive project and the government is on our asses.

I’m really sorry to have to miss out on tonight.

Her response came less than five minutes later. His chest was incredibly tight, and it took everything in him to check the message when he wanted to bury his head in work, and forget all about his brush with her.

I get it. You just don’t want to lose to me again ??

Sebastian couldn’t contain the chuckle bursting from his lips at her text. So sassy, so upbeat. Farren seemed like everything Sebastian wasn’t. And he found he very much wanted to see her again, to bask in her smile in person. Because as much as he hated to admit it, the hour with her—or however long it was—had been the lightest Sebastian felt in years.

Let me make it up to you.

He sent it before he could rethink and talk himself out of it. Logically, it was a bad idea. Farren would be nothing but a distraction, eating away at what precious little time he had. The pace in his field was relentless. Somehow, they’d all consumed the same lie: there would be plenty of jobs waiting in the IT field after college. People like him flooded the market, developers angling for their shot. Developers like Ashl—No. He wouldn’t think about her.

If he wanted to progress, he had to be sure to stand out, to focus.

She’d make your time worthwhile. The thought came unbidden, and a little unwelcome, but it wasn’t wrong.

So, as he sat there, eyes bleary and stomach growling its displeasure at not being fed for over six hours… Sebastian put some thought into how exactly he intended to make it up to her. He barely ventured out into the city in the time he’d lived here. Trendy restaurants and fun activities were low on his list of priorities, and a flare of panic bubbled in his chest at the prospect of making a mistake.

He already felt like he’d failed her by not keeping to his end of the bargain; he couldn’t afford to fuck this up as well.

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