Page 110 of Confessions of a Virgin on a Dating App
I giggled, finding it funny that Sam was old enough to be calling thirty-five-year-old Devin “young man,” when the doorbell suddenly rang.
“I’ll get it!” Devin bolted out of his chair.
I heard loud shouts and jeers from the foyer, so I crept down the hallway to see what was going on. Next to the large glass-inlaid front door, a man well into his sixties had Devin’s neck in a light chokehold, rubbing the top of his head and sending his scruffy black hair everywhere.
“You pain in the ass.” Devin shoved him away. At first I was concerned, but as Devin looked up, I saw the wide grin on his face.
“Good to see you too, bud.” The man gave Devin a forceful pat on the back.
Unlike everyone else at the party, I didn’t recognize him. In addition to being an older man, with receding snow-white hair and leathery, tanned skin, he was covered in almost as many tattoos as Devin was. Although his were much more faded, and instead of the studs that Devin normally wore in his ears, this man had bright gold hoops. He wore a worn blue tank top, khaki pants, and earth-toned sandals. He looked like he belonged on a boat or a motorcycle, not in Sam’s house ready to play board games.
“Ah, is this her?” the man exclaimed, pointing toward me. I noticed he had a gruff voice, with a slight New England accent.
“Indeed it is,” Devin replied, that same beaming grin on his face.
The man chuckled, which sounded more like a cackle, as he took my hand and gave me a vice grip of a handshake that left my fingers sore.
“Avery, this is Scott,” Devin introduced, placing a hand on the man’s bare shoulder. “The former owner of Critical Games, and an old friend of mine.”
“And the one who taught this bastard everything he knows,” Scott chortled. “Anyway, it’s a pleasure to meet ya, Avery. Devin’s told me all about ya. Never seen that boy so happy before.”
Aw.More heat rose to my cheeks. Even Devin was blushing.
“Anyway, come on in.” Devin gestured for Scott to follow us. “You’re the last one here, like usual.”
“Gotta make sure the party’s goin’ strong before I show up.”
Scott exchanged greetings with Sam in the dining room, and I could tell they’d also known each other for a long time.Everyone took a seat at the table, and Sam dumped a large pile of board games in the middle. There were ten of us, which was good because that was exactly how many people Sam’s gaming table could hold. But it also meant that Sam only had a handful of games that could be played by that many people.
We spent most of the evening playing several rounds of a social deduction game that everyone enjoyed. Chris was the assassin in the first round, which everyone guessed because he had a terrible poker face. The next round, Devin kept insinuating that I was the assassin. I thought it was his usual flirtatious teasing, until it was time to reveal. The assassin got away, and it was Devin. He’d made everyone else think it was me.
I scrunched my face at him, and he responded by ruffling my curly hair and whispering “I love you” in my ear.
I blushed. Currently, those words were still a secret between the two of us.
But in the third round,Iended up being the assassin. And since I’d spent the entire last round being blamed, I managed to fly under the radar and survive the game without being caught.
“Alright, guys,” Sam announced once the racket quieted down. The massive gaming table was beautiful, made of real wood with velvety inlays. But it was also a mess; chip bags and overturned cracker boxes were scattered across the table, with various crumbs making their way onto the floor. Between the snacks were random cards, game boxes, and d6 dice. I was glad Sam wasn’t upset for us making such a mess.
“It’s already past ten. Before we break out theJackboxgames, anyone want dessert?”
We all nodded eagerly.
“I brought some baklava that my mom made.” I pointed to the tin-foil-coated tray on Sam’s kitchenisland.
“That sounds delicious,” Sam replied as he opened the fridge, rifling through the shelves. “But first…we all had something else in mind.”
Sam pulled a large object wrapped in a shopping bag out of the fridge, and I noticed that Kathy was digging through one of her kitchen drawers. She pulled out a lighter and a few candles just as Sam revealed what was inside the bag: a beautiful chocolate cake with “Happy Birthday Avery” written in pink frosting.
“Guys!” I exclaimed. “You didn’t have to do this!”
“It was Devin’s idea,” Cassidy laughed.
My twenty-seventh birthday was the following week, and Devin and I had plans to do a celebratory dinner date at a sushi restaurant. I hadn’t expected a celebration during our game night, but as Kathy lit the candles and everyone began singing, I felt incredibly grateful.
For my friends. For my health.
For Devin.
