Page 50 of Extradition (Mobsters + Billionaires 1)
“It was really good. Thank you.”
He ducks his head, and while that little gesture of deference is a quick shot to my groin, I can tell he still feels terrible about this morning. He’s wearing this defeated posture, and I can’t help but want to make him feel better.
Time to switch it up.
“Hey, so how’d you get so good at playing video games? You kicked my ass the other day.”
Distracted, he responds, “I used to play a lot in college. Best in my frat.”
“Yeah, well, I did mostly online classes, so I missed the whole frat experience.”
He shrugs, the move refined. “I don’t know that you missed all that much.”
Walking toward the living room, I gesture at the gaming system and ask, “Wanna shoot something?”
“Uh, sure.”
He gets up and spins away from me, going around the other side of the bar to put things away, perhaps needing a chance to calm down.
Once we’re in place, he quickly scrolls through the options. Stopping short, he backs up. “Wait, they have Mario Kart?”
“Yep,” I answer with a soft chuckle.
“Can we play this instead? It’s one of my favorite games.”
Happy to hear a little joy in his voice, I can’t help but tease him a little. “Sure. But only if you play Princess Peach.”
He huffs out a pretend annoyed breath and agrees to both. “Fine. I love Princess Peach.”
I hip-bump him, which makes him laugh, and it’s a sound that warms my chest. Thankfully, once we get started with the game, it’s easy to get the hang of the VR version, and soon we’re battling it out on a racetrack. Not surprisingly, he’s edging me out.
Midway through the last lap, I clip his back tire, causing him to spin out while I jump ahead. He doesn’t give up, though, correcting fast, then regaining lost ground, passing Mario and Wario, managing to stay on my tail the rest of the way.
With a couple of yards to go, he maneuvers around me and copies my move, clipping the back of my tire. We both spin out a little, but he recovers faster and flies down the track, getting the first-place trophy. I have to settle for third place, behind Wario.
I take off my headset to spy on him again, holding back laughter as he pumps his fist and grins like a madman.
He pulls off his headgear and immediately shifts back into the guarded version of himself. A nicer part of me would pretend I don’t notice the change, but I don’t have it in me to let it go.
I stand there, headgear in one hand, the other on my hip, watching until his eyes meet mine. I let him see my amusement, and his eyes immediately drop to the ground.
“Shut up.”
“Why? It was cute.”
His eyebrows knit together. “No one’s called me cute since middle school.”
“You know—you don’t have to hide the soft parts from me. I’m not your dad.”
He snorts. “You’re not my friend either, Joe. You don’t get my soft parts.” He says that last part a little wistfully, I think.
“We’re at least friendly enough for me to call you cute, aren’t we, Rand?”
He rolls his shoulder. “Not if you’re going to make fun of me.”
Oh man. This guy.
“I was in no way making fun of you. Promise.”
