Page 103 of The Wrong Game

“You’re scared.”

I sighed. “Ugh, it’s like a repeat of the first night we hooked up.”

Zach laughed again. “Look, it’s okay to be scared. I am, too. We’ve both been hurt, and we both are still getting to know each other. We’re trying to figure out what works, and if the other person is safe. But… can I tell you something?”

I nodded before realizing he couldn’t see me. “Yes.”

“I like you, Gemma. A lot. I care about you, I want you to succeed, I want to hang out with you all the time. I want to introduce you to everyone I love because I wantthemto know how amazing you are, too. I want to watch football with you and take you to fancy dinners and make memories I’ll never forget, even if this doesn’t work out in the end.”

My chest squeezed at that.

“So, what if we just start with that?” he proposed. “What if we start with the fact that we’re dating, we’re exclusive, and neither of us are going to make any promises we can’t keep. Okay? We’ll go slow, take it easy, and just… enjoy each other.”

I smiled. “I like that.”

“It’s like when you go camping,” Zach continued. “Did you ever camp when you were younger?”

“A few times, with my grandpa.”

“Well, my dad would always say that we needed to leave our camp site in the same or better condition than what we found it in. I think dating is kind of like that, too. No matter what, I want us both to walk away from this in better condition than we walked into it —ifwe have to walk away at all.” He paused. “But, if I’m being honest… I hope that isn’t the case.”

I covered my smile with one hand, shaking my head as I took a deep breath. It was exactly what I needed to hear. It was everything I didn’t realize I wanted to know.

“You saying you might want to set up permanent camp?”

Zach chuckled, letting out a breath of his own. “I mean, maybe. We’ll see how long I can squat without getting arrested.”

I laughed a little, and relief washed through me like a tidal wave. “Thank you. I know it was a little out of nowhere and a little crazy but…”

“It’s not crazy,” he corrected. “And you don’t have to thank me. Any time you feel like that, you just call me, okay? Anytime. I’m always here to talk. Always.”

Always.

I liked the way that word sounded.

Even if I didn’t trust it yet.

Zach

“You look like that cartoon character,” Mrs. Rudder said, swirling the merlot in her glass before taking a sip of it Friday night. She waved her other hand in the air as she tried to recall. “Oh, what’s his name. The love-drunk skunk.”

“Pepe Le Pew,” Doc chimed from the back.

Mrs. Rudder snapped her fingers. “That’s the one!” She shook her head, big, dangly pearl earrings swinging with the motion. “You might as well have hearts popping out of your eyeballs, and be floating on a pink cloud of whatever it is this girl has you drunk on.”

I smiled, popping the cash register open with the push of a button. I counted out the change for the group down at the end of the bar and shut the drawer again. “You sound jealous, Mrs. Rudder.”

“Jealous!” she scoffed, taking a larger sip of her wine as I handed the group their change, thanking them for coming in. “Ha. More like grossed out. I liked you better when you were kind of grumpy.”

“Like Doc?”

He humphed from the back, and Mrs. Rudder and I shared a smile.

“Well, it is part of the appeal of this place,” she said.

“I can’t argue that.”

I also couldn’t argue her point about me being like a cartoon. With how happy I’d been lately, I felt like one — bebopping along, smiling at every stranger I passed, handing out drinks on me to the patrons.