It sucked.
They’d gone out for lunch a few times, and had met Gretchen and another friend, Greer, that week as well. And okay, she might have been a little head over heels when it came to Loch, to the point that Gretchen was casting her smug looks. She hadn’t mentioned that she was staying with him. That would have made Gretchen crow with glee for sure.
But going out with Loch? Staying with him in his hotel? Even though they were platonic, it felt . . . more like they were a couple than just friends. Of course, Taylor worried that was all in her head, that she was imagining the heated looks between them. That Loch was just being nice and she was misinterpreting it. After all, she wasn’t his type and he’d even said so. Now she was in his space twenty-four-seven and he had to be getting tired of her.
So she kept her head down and she worked. That day, she’d woken up early, covered a double-shift, and had her game minimized in the other window so it looked as if she was present. If anyone sent her a message in-game, she simply told them she was working in-between pelt-farming. Sigmund sent her occasional messages to let her know he was bored, or if he had gotten a particularly fun item in the auction house, but it seemed that just her presence there was enough to keep him chill, which was good.
She was seated on the sofa, just finishing up a work ticket when something tickled her ear. She flicked at it absently, and when it tickled again, she looked up.
Loch was leaning over the back of the couch, a pencil in his hand, and he brushed it against her ear again. That time, instead of making her ticklish, it made her aroused. Oh, boy. She blushed and touched her ear. “Is my typing bothering you?”
“You’ve been working all day. Want to take a break?”
Taylor bit her lip. “I should stay online. We’re supposed to have a guild run in about an hour and I should be on.” Sigmund had been giving her crap about it all day, and she’d sworn that she would be there, even though she didn’t want to. “What did you have in mind?”
He shrugged and looked around. “Thought we could go out for dinner or something, but if you have to be online, maybe I’ll make a character up and play with you?”
Her jaw dropped a little. “You will?”
“Sure, why not?”
A warm, happy flutter started in her belly. “Well, okay. You probably need to patch the game and that’ll take several hours—”
“Already did that.” He moved across the room, all casual grace, and she couldn’t help but stare at his glorious ass. Because seriously, it was downright delicious, especially when it flexed as he walked.
“You . . . did? Really?”
“Yup.” He picked up his laptop—something she never saw him using—and moved back to the couch. He sat down next to her, his weight making her bounce on the cushions. “Put it on last night while you were working.”
“Oh.” She must have been so into work that she hadn’t noticed him. Now she felt ashamed. This was his hotel room and she was being the worst roomie ever. “I’m sorry if I’m not much fun—”
“Don’t be sorry,” he said, and nudged her with his arm. He was so close to her that she could smell his aftershave, and god, it just made her tingle all over. “You’re busy. It’s fine.”
It wasn’t fine, but she was downright awful at juggling her responsibilities, which was why everyone seemed to be constantly irritated with her. Frustrated tears threatened to prick at her eyes, and she didn’t know why. Because he was being understanding? Because it felt like another thing to juggle? She didn’t know.
He shifted on the couch and moved a little closer to her as the game’s boot-up screen displayed. Currently, it was an advertisement for the next Excelsior Convention, about to be held in Oxnard, California. “Do people really go to this sort of thing?” he murmured, glancing over at Taylor.
“Oh, yeah. I’ve been twice. It was . . . fun.” She’d also hooked up with a guy there but he didn’t need to know that. “Everyone dresses up in costumes and talks game stuff. It’s exciting. You get to see previews of the stuff coming out, and they give everyone special gear for their characters.”
His brows went up. “Did you dress up?”
“Of course.”
“As anything in particular?”
“You wouldn’t know the character.” Time to change the subject. She pointed at his screen. “Did you make a username yet?”
She walked him through how to set up his account, mentally wincing at his awkward typing. It was clear that Loch didn’t spend much time on computers after all. It was kind of bizarre in this day and age to see a grown man who couldn’t type worth a damn, but in a way, it was kind of cute.
He touched the track pad and the character-creation window came up. “What now?”
“Now we create a toon for you.”
“Toon—that word. Like cartoon?” He looked over at her again, and she felt that hot body flush return.
“Yup, just like it. It’s slang that started a while back and stuck around.” She typed a quick AFK on her own computer and set it aside, then settled in a little closer to him, peering over his shoulder. “Any idea of what kind of character you want to be?”
“Nope. I’m willing to take suggestions, though.”
“Well, do you want to cast spells? Heal? Smash things?”
“Let’s go with smashing.”
She pointed at the icon of a sword in the corner of the screen. “Try the Warlord class, then? Later on you can change to either Barbarian or Zen Master if you want, but you have to start out as Warlord.”