Page 57 of Bobby Green
But John was nice—if distracted—when he talked to Bobby, asking when his next shoot was, being complimentary on the work he’d done so far. Eventually he wandered off, and Skylar asked him if he wanted next.
“Yeah, sure,” he said. He didn’t play a lot of video games, though. “Better pit me against someone who sucks. I’m not great.”
“I’ll play you!” Reg said brightly, coming full circle.
“Oh God,” Skylar groaned, watching as his character got annihilated. “Reg is better’n any of us.”
Bobby looked up in time to see Reg preen. “Reg, I had no idea. Why don’t you have a system?”
Reg flushed. “V’s not a fan,” he said, grimacing. “She kept throwing them away when I was gone—said they were beaming shit into the house that made her crazy. Got expensive.”
Oh God.
“Well, let’s play here,” Bobby said, waiting for Rick to give up his controller.
He did after he finished the event and Skylar pulled him off the couch. “Thanks, babe. Nice of you to kill me and keep playing.”
“I didn’t kill you, Sky. We were playing with other guys in Tommy’s system, remember?”
Skylar shook his head. “I have no idea how that works or how you even know that. Whatever.”
Rick rolled his eyes, but he pulled Skylar in for a kiss anyway.
Something about the gesture—an intimate moment in the midst of a sadness Bobby had never seen in them before—made him reluctant to ask how their Christmas had gone.
Sometimes it was just better not to know.
Reg grunted as they wandered away. “We’re not gonna play the big group,” he said decisively, doing something with his controller. “If you’re not good at it, we’ll just do a challenge ourselves. Now I’m gonna be the healer, and you’re gonna be the point guy. So you run in front and shoot people, and I’ll send you healing mojo every time you get hit. But you gotta protect me, see?”
Reg showed him, and he grinned. “You make it really easy,” he said, feeling good at this for the first time ever. “Watch out, there—that guy got through!”
“Oops—gotta heal myself there! Get that fucker for me, ’kay?”
“Yeah. Yeah—oh, and that asshole there—got him!”
Oh, this was fun. This wasamazing, in fact. This was a thing they could do so well together that it was like they shared the same brain. They plowed through the challenge, and the next one, until Bobby looked up and saw Trey waiting patiently for his up. Bobby winked at him, because they were good now, and gave up the controller when his guy bit the dust.
“Trey’s been waiting,” he said, standing up and stretching. “You guys should compare notes about Christmas.”
“He and Lance spent the night,” Reg said matter-of-factly.
Bobby’s eyes must have gotten horror-show big, because Trey winced.
Oh God.
Oh God—Reg had… he and Trey and Lance….
“I’m sure Trey didn’t mind that at all,” Bobby said numbly, and Trey looked at him in apology.
“No,” he said. “I promise.”
But Bobby didn’t know what “No” referred to, and it was none of his goddamned business anyway, was it?
“I got no claim.” Bobby swallowed, and the misery of that hesitation out in the car came hammering back. He walked away, feeling defeated and sad and like he was hurting the guy he least wanted to hurt in the entire world.
And that’s how he was feeling when Ethan sat on the love seat and asked him how his Christmas was.
Oh. Oh God. Ethan.
