“Weird. It’s not scanning. Let me get someone else.”
“It’s okay.” Conrad leaned in to whisper in my ear, his breath a warm tease that distracted me away from my rising panic.
“What if—”
“We’ll deal.” He shrugged, face impossible to read. “Hit the casinos or something.”
Right as I was about to tell him what a horrible idea that was, the volunteer arrived back with a supervisor, an older man with a neck beard and an officious attitude, who examined our tickets closely.
“These are promotional tickets. Comps. You have to input each number manually. Try again.”
I held my breath, and next to me, I heard Conrad do the same, audibly sucking in air and holding it, tension rolling off him. He could pretend all he wanted, but I could tell how much he wanted this, how much he was counting on it.
“Oh, there we go.” The woman smiled as her printer started spitting out papers, and she produced two badges in clear plastic lanyards. “Two tournament registrations plus convention badges. I’ve got your schedule for tomorrow. Rounds begin promptly, no exceptions, so it’s best to be ten to fifteen minutes early for each of your matches. A map is included with your schedule. Updated standings will be available late in the day tomorrow with elimination rounds starting Saturday. Finals on Sunday.”
Need to make it to Saturday. Then Sunday. The enormity of being there hit me all at once, and Conrad had to nudge me to keep moving once we had all our paperwork. Open doors to the convention hall revealed vendors scrambling around, setting up booths for selling merchandise. The whole place had an air of anticipation—like the night before a big birthday. As we made our way out, we passed a number of informal groups playing Odyssey in the hallways sitting cross-legged, cards strewn around them on the red carpet. Conrad’s steps slowed as he kept glancing around, not trying to hide his people-watching.
“Do you want to stay and find some people to play with?” I asked, even though unfamiliar in-person play groups were not my thing at all. I knew that socializing and playing with a lot of different people was a big part of the draw of the con for Conrad, though, and I didn’t want to be the one to hold him back.
“Nah.” His mouth quirked, something soft in his eyes. “I’d rather get food with you. There will be plenty of games tomorrow—ones that actually count. Let’s have fun tonight. Just us.”
I was so pleased that he’d choose hanging out with me over meeting new people that I almost forgot to be nervous over the coming seriousness of the competition. Happy as I was to be alone with Conrad, my back tensed with worry that maybe this would be our last chance to be just us. Everything seemed so simple when he put it in terms like that—just two guys who liked spending time together. And kissing. Which in his eyes made us a couple of sorts. But my brain kept trying to complicate everything. Stupid logistics mucking everything up.
“Stop thinking,” Conrad ordered once we were out on the sidewalk.
“Who said I’m thinking?”
“I can feel you thinking. Stop it. Just have fun with me.” He grabbed my hand. “Please?”
No way could I deny him anything, especially not when he made that goofy, pleading face. “I’ll try.”
“Good.” He didn’t drop my hand as we made our way away from the convention center, toward the famous Las Vegas strip. The wide sidewalk was crowded with people, and holding hands was almost a necessity for keeping together, but I still thrilled at the connection. Casinos and huge hotels towered above us, but all my awareness was on him, on this once-in-a-lifetime moment.
“So I’ve got an idea.” As we paused by a huge illuminated fountain, his eyes sparkled the way they always did before he did a particularly tricky play in the game.
“Should I be afraid?”
“Nah.” With his free hand, he dug in his pocket and came up with a fist full of quarters. “Let’s each do quarters in the next casino we pass. If it wins us anything, that’s what we eat with.”
“We are not gambling for dinner money.” I tried to sound stern, but his enthusiasm was a little contagious.
“Sure we are.” His grin was almost enough to make me willing to risk a public kiss. He was simply that appealing. “If it doesn’t pan out, we’re only out some quarters, and we can get something cheap. But if we win…”
“Getting you to eat something other than tacos and biscuits would be nice,” I conceded, letting him lead me farther down the sidewalk. “Statistically speaking, though, the odds are not in our favor.”
“There you go.” He slapped me on the back as we turned toward one of the mammoth glittering casino/hotel complexes. “You use that gorgeous brain of yours to logic out which machine is most likely to yield us steak money.”