Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Holy shit.
HOLY SHIT.
Paisley dropped her controller, tore her headset off and hopped up from her seat, like that would change the fact that Trotter, her long-time friend and gaming companion, called her by her real name. Because of the splinter. That only Colton knew about.
“Oh, my God. Oh my God oh my God oh my God.” She shook out her arms and paced around the room, her breath catching in her chest like being squeezed by the kugel monster. She lifted her legs and hoisted herself onto her sofa, hiding her face in her hands.
What the hell was she doing? She got off the sofa and stared at her computer. Trott—Colton’s voice came through her headset. “Paisley? Paisley!”
On the screen, a potato latke beat the crap out of her avatar, bits of onion and egg hitting her like shrapnel.
Didn’t matter. How many cringe-worthy things did she share with Trotter?
How many mortifying statements had she made about herself?
She was never logging in to her computer again.
In fact, she planned to sell it for parts and run off to the Caribbean and live on the far reaches of the island and forgo electricity and modern comforts.
Holy shit.
After a bit more of stomping on her furniture and trying to recollect everything she’d said, she calmed down enough to sit in her chair.
She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, then let it out on a slow exhale as she forced the kugel monster to loosen its grip on her chest. She picked up her headset.
Trotter was Colton.
Colton was Trotter.
The man who didn’t date, who helped guide her love life, who swept her off her feet in the most unconventional way.
And she was in love with both sides of him.
* * *
“Riv—Paisley, answer me!” Colton implored.
Her patchwork dress-wearing avatar sat passively on the screen, though losing health points by the minute. So she hadn’t logged off.
What a fucking insane twist. His body agreed, filling his stomach with turbulent waves. How often had he thought about meeting River in real life, only to talk himself out of it?
Reality was so much better than his imagination. Paisley was strong and beautiful, funny, and lived so passionately. The complete opposite of him.
And she was a gamer? This bordered on dream woman territory.
“Paisley.” He tried one more time.
“Colton?” It came out as a squeak, like she wasn’t sure what just happened.
A warm tide filled his veins, combating the turbulence in his belly. “Yeah. It’s me. Are you okay?”
She let out a shaky laugh. “That’s the question, isn’t it. Am I okay. Are you okay?”
“I never anticipated this.”
“This whole day has been full of the unexpected.”
That sounded bad. Did she regret what happened between them? They should talk, clear the air. “Want to meet for that cup of coffee now?”
“No. No, I don’t. I’m in my pajamas and my thumb hurts and my world just capsized. Can we get together later?”
“Paisley—”
She emitted a choked noise that might have been considered a laugh, but he didn’t think it was.
“River suits you,” he said. “Unpredictable and free.”
“You shouldn’t say such nice things about me.”
“Why not?” Oh, God, he was losing her. “I know you pretty well by now. All of you. Your penchant for sticky notes. The way your nose wrinkles when you don’t like an idea. How you’ve been trying to meet your mushpuppy, but you’re still waiting for that special someone.”
He could be that mushpuppy. He waited for her to say something, the seconds stretching out to eternity.
“I don’t know what this all means.” Her voice strained. “I don’t know how to do this. It’s too much. All at once.”
“I’m scared, too.” Oh. That’s what caused the rush in his stomach. “But I’ve never seen you step away from a challenge.”
“What’s the challenge here? You don’t date, Trotter.
You’ve always been adamant about that. Both of you told me.
So you don’t have to put on that mask.” She let out a slow breath.
“We’ll go back to how it was in the office and when we game and pretend that I won’t picture your face when we talk online. ”
That wasn’t what he wanted. As crazy as it sounded, he’d break all his rules for her. But if she didn’t feel the same way… “If that’s what you want.”
He closed his eyes, hoping she’d deny it, that she’d demand to see him, that she’d take a chance on whatever this was between them.
Her final words tore at his heart.
“It’s what I want.” Her voice grew in confidence and determination. “Good night, Trotter.”