Page 24 of Game Over

I’d spent so much time worrying about what Charlie would think of Tara, that I hadn’t considered that there was a possibilityshewouldn’t likehim. A new concern that bloomed uncomfortably in my gut now that’d it’d been brought to my attention.

Typically, they both were the type of people to get along with pretty much anyone, so I didn’t see why this would be any different. Except, I’d forgotten to consider one crucial element: they were both competitive as shit.

Tara swallowed, her face going carefully neutral before settling into a smirk. “I already know you love the sound of me winning.”

The tips of Charlie’s ears went pink. “In your dreams, HAVOC kitten.”

I let loose a relieved sigh, a little louder than I would’ve liked. Tension I hadn’t realized I’d been holding in my shoulders releasing as they began to settle into the banter I’d gotten familiar with in the group chat.

Nothing to worry about, just a bunch of nerves all around. The party wasn’t going to have to split up after all. Well… I still had to get drinks. But a more permanent division wouldn’t be necessary.

“You guys get at it, I’ll be right behind you.”

Charlie motioned for her to lead the way and she did—but not before pressing a quick kiss to my cheek that left behind the sticky imprint of her mountain of cherry lip gloss.

Was that another blush? Or was the moody lighting playing well with the product she’d dusted along her cheeks.

And was it really her lip gloss I was picking up, or was that a whisper of Tara’s perfume snaking through her suppressants? Surely not, her heat was close, but she’d been pretty positive that meeting with the alpha wouldn’t be an issue for her.

No matter how weirdly handsome I suddenly found him, he was still Charlie.

And Charlie just… didn’t pull girls like Tara.

That was a fact I would bet on, if I was someone who gambled.

I would’ve killed to know what either of them were thinking. The way the alpha’s eyes lingered on Tara didn’t feel off per se, but it was a bit…. unusual? Warmer than I’d expect with a stranger, even to me as a bystander. There was a familiarity there I couldn’t place, but maybe that was from the hours spent together shouting down the OVWatch comms.

Team match ups were intense, and brought out high emotions in anyone—even more so my competitive girlfriend and best friend.

Even I’d get a little amped up sometimes. Typically, I was a pretty level-headed guy, but when I was constantly watching DPS players throwing themselves into the fray and away from healers, even I couldn’t help but lash out. And since we’d all played together, there was a chance some of that high emotion made them feel closer, which was great.

Or maybe it was just that weird draw that alphas had to omegas.

Or, you know, that my girlfriend was dummy hot and Charlie was a fucking—lovable—dweeb who spent more time with his hands on a keyboard than anywhere near a woman.

I leaned on the bar, giving my order to a bored looking bartender with deep tan skin and flowy, wavy hair he’d pulled into a loose messy bun on the top of his head.

It wasn’t long until I was carrying them back to meet up with everyone—an IPA for Charlie, a blueberry seltzer for Tara, and a hard iced tea for me. The aisles of games were filled with bright lights, sounds, and excited, partially drunk players, jumping—and almost falling over—every time they won anything with a cheer.

It took a minute, but I finally found them, back by the row of skeeball machines. Tara was mid roll, bending down and firing back to release the small worn ball. I couldn’t help but stare at her thighs as they poked further out from beneath her skirt. Creamy, lush skin with the bottom of a butterfly’s wings poking just below the hemline as it rode up made me want to run my tongue up them like my own personal batch of cherry and lime flavored frosting.

The ball hit the board with a smack and rolled, barreling up towards the rings at the top. It bounced off of the top outer ring, almost falling into the forty, but it didn’t quite catch the lip and cascaded down, rolling straight into the ten spot.

“Damn,” she cursed, stomping her foot and throwing her hands down.

Must’ve been her last ball.

“Better luck next time,” Charlie teased with an easy smirk, leaning on the wall nearby.

Did I imagine the way his eyes were absolutely fixated on her ass?

“I’m just rusty,” Tara muttered. “I used to be really good at skeeball. They used to have a machine right next to the pinball at the laundromat my mom took me to.”

“Then maybe another game will help you shake off some of the rust?”

I took that as my cue to step forward, holding out the drinks with a smile. “Only the finest.”

Both of their faces lit up as they saw me in their own way. Tara with her vibrant, slightly too big for her face smile that seemed to put the world in technicolor. Charlie’s half crooked grin, on the other hand, was comforting and steady, like a summer breeze against a sail. Buoying.

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