Page 13

Chapter 13

Moxie

“I had a flush until you stole my heart,” one of my regular players, Simon, says as he sits down at my table.

I roll my eyes, but it’s a relief to have the talkative goof at my table. He’s a welcome distraction from my disappointment from Wyatt’s rejection.

“You do realize you’re playing blackjack, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And that there’s no such thing as a flush in blackjack? I feel like you probably should have a basic grasp on the game by now. You’ve been coming here for three months.”

I still can‘t believe he didn’t want to go home with me. It’s his prerogative—I wasn’t about to force him—but I can’t understand what I did wrong or how I so badly misread the signs. Years of nothing but one-night stands, and the moment I give a guy more time with me, I wind up home alone.

“You’re right.” He hangs his head in shame, but he’s got that mischievous twinkle in his eyes before they briefly dip out of sight. It’s a twinkle I know all too well. Been there, done that. Simon has a line in my little black book. He’s a nice guy, but he fell to the one-and-done rule. Somehow Wyatt wormed his way in. He’s the only one I want right now, even if whatever we’re doing is just for fun.

“Remind me, what are these little clover things called again?” He looks back up and winks at me.

“I’m pretty sure they’re called dinglehoppers,” I say.

“You’ve been watching too much Little Mermaid ,” he responds.

Simon would use a Disney reference. The one time I went back to his place, I could see evidence of his many fandoms on his shelves and overflowing from boxes.

“In all seriousness, you’ve got to get yourself some better lines if you’re going to find yourself a girl out here.”

“That’s why I keep practicing them on you.”

“Glad to be your test subject,” I deadpan. I don’t mind it, though. He’s a good guy, and I know he comes here because it gives him a sense of stability. He misses his D&D and bowling leagues from his old neighborhood, and I guess hanging with his favorite dealers and the other regulars gives him a similar vibe, at least until he finds his niche here. Hannah keeps insisting she’s not ready to take up her dating end of our bargain, but when she is, I'll keep Simon in mind.

Jin, the evening’s relief dealer, walks up behind me. “You’re up.”

I perform the changing of the guard’s hand jive for the cameras, then wave to Simon. “You think up another one for me. I’m off to lunch.”

I snag a bag of chips from my locker, plop down at one of the five small round tables in our break room, and pull out my phone. One missed text.

Wyatt: No one warned me that flour was like sand, and that I’d be finding it everywhere for days.

I grin, then scowl when I remember that I’m annoyed with him. I thought our fake date was headed for a very real, very steamy night of passion, but he blew me off.Getting shot down for sex is not something I'm accustomed to. I’m not sure where I went wrong. We shared a perfectly good night, but somehow, I got left with only my vibrator for company. Two days later he wants to reach out with a joke about flour as if nothing happened.

He’s fully entitled to say no if he’s not interested. I know I don’t have a right to be mad, but it caught me by surprise. I’ve analyzed the night in my head a dozen times, and I swear he was flirting with me all night. I’m fully prepared to continue ghosting him when I remember they need me, and even if I'm annoyed, I won’t back out of a commitment.

I glance around at the small break room that smells vaguely of dirty socks mixed with popcorn, and I sigh. If I'm going to be used as a fake date, I may as well be getting something out of it. I’m still owed some damn adventures.

Me: Probably because I don’t think that’s true.

Wyatt: Are you calling me a liar?

Me: Are you one?

The text feels unnecessarily aggressive as soon as I hit send. Hopefully he reads it as flirtatious instead. I’m moody and going to mess this up. I wish I had supervision for these texts. This whole pseudo-relationship is so strange. I don’t ever feel like I know how to proceed without guidance. I blame Hannah and Albert the notebook.

Wyatt: Not at all. What’re you up to?

Me: Work. I’m on break. I’ve only got a few minutes.

Wyatt: Bummer. Would you be interested in a little adventure?

That doesn’t sound at all like someone who wants to end evenings early. I should be able to handle this conversation, but now I’m feeling paranoid. What’s a day at work without a little unnecessary stress? I scarf a handful of chips and bolt out the door to the customer service desk.

“Oh, hey!” Hannah says, her usual chipper self.

“Can you take your break now?”

She frowns. “Oh, sure, let me—”

“She’ll be back in twenty, bye!” I grab her arm and tug her along, power-walking to the break room. Why does the damn casino floor have to be so big? “I’ve only got twelve more minutes.”

“Then start talking,” Hannah says.

“It’s Wyatt.”

“That much I guessed,” she teases.

My steps falter, and I blink at her. “Where’d that snark come from?”

“I guess you’re rubbing off on me.” She grins. “Hurry up, Miss Antsy Pants. What happened?”

Eleven minutes.

“He texted me about flour.” I throw as much gravity into my voice as possible.

Hannah squints at me. “I think I’m missing context.”

“No, that was pretty much it,” I say.

We bust through the door to the break room, and I pull her over to the table I’d previously vacated.

“What the hell, Toby? Those are my chips,” I say to the bartender who took the bag of chips I temporarily abandoned while I went to fetch Hannah.

“Nobody was eating them,” he says.

“Who just starts eating someone else’s chips?”

“I didn’t know they were someone else’s chips,” he says.

“Were they your chips?” I ask, incredulously. He frowns as though giving this deep thought.

“Don’t you have like, nine more minutes?” Hannah asks.

Right. Fuck the chips. We abandon Toby the snack thief and sit at another table. I whip out my phone and hand it to her. She does a quick skim and shrugs. Clearly, she’s not grasping the problem.

“He’s messaging me like nothing happened,” I say.

“And did something happen?”

I bite my lip. The problem is that something didn’t happen. And now that the time has come to explain myself, I'm not sure I want to detail my sex life in front of my coworkers. I lower my voice to keep Toby out of my business. “I asked him to come home with me, and he said no.”

Hannah’s lips quirk in contemplation. “I thought you wanted to keep emotions out of it.”

I give her a look.

“Right, we’re very different creatures. Sex doesn’t always equate to emotion for you. I'm caught up. Maybe he wasn’t ready for that.”

I sigh. “Maybe. And that’s fair.”

“But you’re still feeling...” she trails off waiting for me to fill in the blank.

“Annoyed. And like I’m losing the game.”

“The game?” Hannah asks.

“Yeah, cat and mouse.”

“Are you the cat or the mouse?” She crinkles her brows in confusion.

“The cat. No, the mouse. Both?”

Hannah folds her arms and stares at me as two more people on break head for the vending machine. “Let’s rewind a bit. You think it’s fair that he didn’t want to take that step, but you still seem a little hot about it. What’s really bugging you?”

It’s a reasonable question. Why the heck am I so upset? I can’t stop thinking about his dimpled smile and how he made me laugh the entire night. I genuinely enjoyed myself. Nothing felt like the rehearsed enjoyment I usually force when trying to take someone home. Knowing it’s only for show takes the pressure out of it, and the conversation flowed like we had been friends forever.

I've ghosted him for two days, but weirdly, I’ve kind of missed him. That’s not how fake relationships work.

I rub my chest. “This is all so confusing. I don’t feel so good.”

“Chip to settle your stomach?” Toby asks.

“Why are you offering me my chips?” I yelp.

“I was trying to be nice,” he says.

I put my head between my knees until the feeling passes, and Hannah rubs my back. “Your head doesn’t want more than a fake relationship with him, but your heart is maybe telling you something different. Is that why you’re upset?”

I shake my head. “I’m just a little confused.”

“Okay.” She holds up her hands, but it’s clear she doesn’t believe me.

“Then there’s you. I like having you as a friend, but you and Wyatt are friends. If this all goes poorly and he wants nothing to do with me, then…” I let my sentence hang, while in the back of my mind, I'm also screaming, and then you won’t have any reason to hang out with me!

At some point in my rant, I leap to my feet and start doing anxious laps around the tables. Staff enter the room and gape at me while Toby pops another chip in his mouth. So much for flying under the radar at work.

I halt in my pacing. “Do none of you have anything better to do?”

They all make to look busy, and I throw myself back into the seat beside my one and only friend.

Hannah places a hand over her heart. “Moxie, are you worried about losing me as a friend?”

Yes. “No, I don’t think so.”

“I’m touched, but I'm the one who forced my friendship on you, remember? You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

While this is a relief, I still worry that my invitation and Wyatt’s refusal put us in an awkward place. Instead of accomplishing our goal of getting comfortable with each other, we’re going to come across more awkward than ever.

“You don’t think I screwed it all up by pushing him too fast, do you?”

“No, I don’t think so.” She bites her lip and looks concerned.

“Oh no, you do.”

“No, it’s not that,” she rushes to reassure me.

“Then what aren’t you saying?” I ask.

“It is a little surprising he turned you down. There’s so much chemistry between you two, and he’s not exactly known for taking it slow. On the contrary, he’s more of a ‘Seize the day’ kind of guy. I heard his last girlfriend dumped him because he took her over to his parents’ house on their second date.”

I open my mouth to speak, and she holds up a hand.

“Text him back. Don’t overthink it. Let's figure out how to get you two in front of the parents. I think it’s best if we focus on the fake dating right now and you get your lady bits under control,” she says.

“It would be easier if he wasn’t so damn hot.”

Me: I’m with Hannah right now, and we wanted to set up a first attempt with the parents. Thoughts?

I tap send, skating right on past the offer for adventure and keeping it to business. Straight to the point. If we both ignore the issue from the other night, it’s like it never happened.

Wyatt: I just so happen to know where both our moms will be Saturday morning. You in?

I show the screen to Hannah.

“I’ve got work in the afternoon, but I can do morning,” she says.

“I’ve got the night shift, so I'll be tired but free.”

Me: We’re in.

Wyatt: Excellent. How do you feel about farm animals?