13
Tyler
“Again?” I asked.
“Yeah, again, unless you have a better idea,” Nick said on the other end of the phone call.
“Didn’t I beat your ass enough last time?” I snickered.
“No, apparently not,” he said. “But this time, I’m going to mop the floor with you.”
Not bothering with getting really dressed up or anything, I threw on sneakers and a flannel shirt and headed out into the evening. The place we were meeting, a little geek shop called One Eyed Jacques, had a large conference room where tournaments of all types were held. Briefly we had both dabbled in the expensive card-collecting games, but they were beyond us and our more casual approach to gaming. Instead, we stuck with occasional poker tournaments, and now, board game tournaments.
Arriving at the shop, I noticed that the door was closed and there was a bouncer directing people to the back. This was common for the poker nights but was the first time I had noticed it happening for anything else. Curious, I walked around to the back entrance and showed my ID to the guy manning the door, and when I walked through, it was into utter madness.
Scantily clad girls dressed as various board pieces walked around with trays of drinks, and people of all kinds manned tables all over the room and were either preparing to play, notebooks in hand, or were already deep in a game.
I walked in, found Nick at the bar area, grabbing a couple of snacks that seemed to be catered in from one of the local sub shops, and shook my head at the scene behind me.
“This is insane,” I said.
“I know, right?” he said. “I love it. I tried to tell you, man, West Coast Regionals are nuts.”
“Wait, have you been doing these things without me?” He shrugged and took a gulp of his drink.
“Didn’t know if you would be interested,” he said.
“And here I thought you couldn’t get any dorkier,” I said.
“Shut up,” he retorted, slapping me in the chest. “We have table three for the next game. Games only tend to last about twenty-five minutes or so. Grab a sandwich and get a drink. You won’t have time for them once you sit down.”
I shrugged and took a seat with a plate of turkey sandwiches and chips and a beer. Nick sat beside me, nursing what looked like a whiskey and Coke.
“So,” Nick said, having to speak a little louder than usual to be heard over the din. “I think I met someone.”
“What?” I looked at him with one eyebrow raised, sure I misheard him.
“I said I think I met someone,” he said again.
“Already?” I asked. He rolled his eyes and took a sip. “I mean, like if it’s just a casual thing…”
“It’s not,” he interrupted.
“Well, isn’t that a bit soon?”
“It’s been a year,” he said. “And you were the one who said I should probably get back out there.”
“That’s kind of what I mean,” I said. “You just got back out there. You should be going through women like tissue paper, not getting all hung up on one, right?”
“I don’t operate like that,” he said. “You know that. I take things one woman at a time. Like you do.”
I decided to drop it right there. He was right. I wasn’t the playboy type. When I met someone, which was extraordinarily rare, I tended to get involved quickly, and they usually were the ones to inform me that it was more than they were looking for. Of course, the last steady girl had been… a while ago.
“Becca moved in,” Nick said, apropos of nothing. I did a double take and then took a bite of my sandwich. “She hated being at Mom and Dad’s. Had to get out of there before there was a big blowup.”
“Yeah, she told me a little about that,” I said. “Has she heard back from the job interview?”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. Nick turned slowly in his chair to look me in the eye, his drink stuck halfway to his mouth.
“How did you know about that?” he asked.
I shrugged, hoping I would look cool and disconnected. “She came into the bar after the interview. Said she had been really nervous about it and could use a drink. She mostly talked to Ava, and I just overheard.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. But it wasn’t entirely the truth, either.
He continued to stare at me for a few uncomfortable seconds, but I ignored him, watching some of the lightning-fast rounds being played on the closest table. A rather revealing waitress walked by and offered me a replacement drink, which I took gratefully. I tossed the money for it on her tray, and she walked away, shaking her hips madly. Not that I cared. My mind was only on one set of hips. And I was trying desperately not to think about them with Nick right beside me, eyeing me like I’d just revealed state secrets.