Page 3
Story: Gamer's Choice
When I realized what I insinuated, I stifled a groan and flipped through my imaginary file of ‘things to say when you’ve said something awkward’ to move this conversation along.
Nothing came to mind.
My hand shot out. “I’m Neko-Ren Ellison. But everyone calls me Neko, except my mom, who loves to use my entire name, because she thinks it’s similar to my personality. A contradiction.”
The flash of white teeth as his lips stretched open made me choke on the quick inhale of air. But when he wrapped his warm hand around my own, our palms nestled together, I let out a breathy sigh.
His smile widened as he leaned closer.
“I’m Graham Norris. To put your mind at ease, I moved in next door two weeks ago.” He tilted his head toward his left. “I’ve met all the neighbors, except for you, so I thought I’d drop by and introduce myself.”
Grateful he overlooked my embarrassing reaction to his touch, I said, “Yeah, I don’t go out much since I work at home as a gamer and streamer. The only time I’m outside is when I’m forced to by my nosy, yet well-meaning family.”
I watched his reaction to my answer. People either didn’t understand what I did for a living or their eyes lit up as they wondered, aloud, how successful I was. Success and popularity meant money, or so they believed.
Instead, Graham glossed over it. “So, the scream?”
“Yeah, it was a horror game. They are the most requested on my channel because I think they like to see me freak out over every sound and movement.”
His chuckle set off firework explosions in my belly and I worked hard not to let it show. But the way Graham studied me made me believe he understood how much he affected me.
A loud bark broke the silence between us, and I leaned sideways to look past Graham before I waved.
“Good Evening, Mr. Oren and Miss Goldie.”
“Hello there, Neko. Mr. Norris,” Mr. Oren said.
When she heard her name, the four-year-old goldendoodle trotted over and I scratched her behind her ears while reaching for the treats I stored in the console table next to the door. I kept them on hand for all the neighborhood dogs. When I offered it to her, she sat and gently grabbed the treat between her teeth.
“Such a good girl, Goldie,” I said as she ate her treat. She gave me a quick lick on my thumb before she joined her owner for their nightly walk.
It was then I realized how rude I’d been. “Oh, I didn’t mean to make you stand outside this entire time. I was about to cook dinner. Would you like to join me?”
“Sure, I mean, if you don’t mind?”
Without thinking, I reached for his forearm and squeezed. I bit back a dirty sound when the muscle underneath flexed at my touch. My grip held firm when I caught his scent, black pepper and cedar.
Unclenching my jaw, I said, “Think of it as a welcome to the neighborhood get-together where I’ll ask you inappropriate and invasive questions in an awkward attempt at what my dad calls social interaction.”
The deep laugh made my nether regions tingle.
Down, boy!
Not put off by my verbal ineptitude or my weird gestures of friendliness, Graham said, “Great, I’m looking forward to it.”
I hesitated a second before I let go of his arm and waved him inside. After locking the door, I set off toward the kitchen as awareness pulsed inside me at his nearness.
With a glance in the pantry and the refrigerator, I asked, “Would you like a chicken Parmesan sandwich with fruit and chips, or would you prefer grilled pork chops with apple chutney and rice pilaf?”
Making a mental note for another grocery delivery soon, I noticed the prolonged silence in the room. When I turned to face Graham, I covered my mouth to hide my smile. His stunned expression made him look, if it was even possible, more handsome.
“Um… chicken Parm sounds good. But you’re making it, like, out of a box, right?”
I shook my head. “Nope, I already cut up the fruit when the groceries arrived and the chips are easy to make and store. I have to pound out the chicken a bit and bread it before baking it, and the marinara has to heat, but everything is from scratch. No, that’s not true, I didn’t make the provolone that will melt on top.”
Graham nodded, still dazed for an unknown reason, and I set to work. I asked, “Do you cook?”
“I can follow a recipe, but I stick with eating steamed veggies and sautéing lean proteins because it’s easy.”
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