Page 66 of Confessions of a Virgin on a Dating App
“Of course not,” Devin squeezed my waist as he walked away. “That was very much intentional. Now, this is the less exciting part of our date. I’ve gotta clean up, cash out, and grab my stuff. Should take about thirty minutes.”
“I can help,” I offered.
“Not a chance,” he replied as he rolled a vacuum out of the storage room. “You sit and relax. I won’t be long.”
The vacuum whirred to life with a loud, hollow roar as I plopped down in a chair by theWargaveltables.
“Boys, seriously?” I heard Devin mutter to himself over the sound of the vacuum. “So many crumbs…”
I chuckled. Like most game shops, Devin had a shelf stocked with snacks for clients to purchase, and he allowed outside food in Critical Games. HisC&Cgroup had treated themselves to tacos from the food truck across the street, and based on my own experiences with little brothers, they tended to be messy creatures.
I crouched down to look under theWargaveltables and noticed a stack of player’s guides hidden underneath. In addition to the books for sale, Devin had store copies of the basic roleplaying and tabletop books for patrons to use.Though they’re often not in great shape,I noted as I flipped one of the books open, running my fingers down the worn spine.
I spent the next thirty minutes engrossing myself inWargavelrules and lore as Devin scurried around the shop. He wiped down the tables, refilled theC&C TCGpacks behind the counter, and balanced the register before turning the lights off.
My head shot up, surprised by the sudden darkness. It was only 5:30, so light was still streaming in from the front windows, but the whole shop was cast in greyscale.
“Alright, Avie.” Devin twirled a set of keys around his pointer finger. They made metallic scraping noises as they clanged against his black ring. “You ready?”
I grinned, placing theWargavelbook back under the table. “Of course.”
Devin slid his arm around my waist as we left the shop, and that same giddy grin made my face burn with happiness.
“You look fantastic in that dress, by the way,” he complimented, opening the passenger door of his car for me to climb in. “You got directions?”
“Yup.” I fiddled with my phone’s GPS. “Should be about twenty minutes.”
We spent most of the drive discussing our afternoonC&Ccampaigns, which devolved into Devin telling me funny stories of the boys acting up at his table.
“The day that still bewilders me,” Devin explained as we turned off the highway and into Oviedo. “Was when two of the boys snuck silly string into their bags and used it on each other during an in-game fight.”
I snorted as laughter erupted from me, “Seriously?”
“Yeah.Silly string. I didn’t even think they still made that stuff.” Devin shook his head. “So naturally, I told their mothers and made the two lunatics clean it all up. Fun times. I’m pretty sure Sam took video of it.”
“My god. What a mess that must’ve made.”
Devin rolled his eyes. “I was still picking bits of the stuff off the floor two weeks later. Anyway…” He pointed. “Is that it right there? I see a sign that says, ‘Greek Food.’”
I smiled. Sure enough, the nondescript, bright red neon sign hung proudly above a quiet strip mall near the university.
“Yes, it is.”
As we approached the little café and swung open the heavy glass door, the first thing that hit us was a blast of chilly air conditioning, one that carried the earthy, aromatic scent of oregano, dill, and bay leaves. The shop was empty except for a lone figure tucked away at a table near the restrooms, happily chowing down on a gyro.
It was small and cramped, as the six sets of tan tables with squeaky metal chairs had barely any room between them. In the kitchen behind the register, the savory sounds of popping and sizzling radiated through the restaurant. The storefront was likely a pizza parlor at one point, as it had the stereotypical black-and-white checkered tile and red, translucent plastic cups next to an old soda machine. But the walls were lined with huge, framed photos of various tourist locations in Greece, and old Greek folk songs hummed through the wall speakers.
To me, it felt cozy and nostalgic. The décor and music brought me back to my early childhood spent with my grandparents, who were Greek immigrants. But they died when I was in elementary school, so the food was more reminiscent of afternoons spent in the kitchen with my mother. Even as an adult, Greek food was still my favorite.
But I also wondered what Devin thought of the place. I peered over at him, wondering if my bringing him to a homey little café for our first date was the best idea. But he was smiling, his vibrant blue-green eyes surveying the artwork on the walls as a waitress hustled over to us.
“It smells fantastic,” he noted as we took a seat at a tiny table next to the window. “I’ve barely eaten all day.”
I scoured the laminated menu in front of me, deciding which of my favorite dishes to order. It didn’t take me long, as I already knew the menu by heart, but when I looked up, Devin was still tracing his fingers over the words, occasionally stopping to look things up.
Even though I’d already kissed him multiple times, including our initial episode in the breakroom where we nearly stripped each other’s clothes off, this still felt weird. Because sitting across from him at a restaurant table made it truly occur to me that I was on adate. With Devin. The game shop owner who I had bickered with for years.
A month ago, it would’ve seemed absurd.
