Out of Character by Annabeth Albert

Chapter Eleven

Jasper

“Are we sure the new guy is not your new boo?” Eugene found me in the lobby as I took a little break before my next round.

“Milo?” Mildly horrified, I looked up from my phone. I had it out because I’d been texting with Milo, who had gone to retrieve some food. This was a smaller convention/conference center and the meal options inside the complex were overpriced and limited, so I was especially grateful for Milo’s offer to get lunch. But boyfriend? Absolutely not, and that little shiver that raced up my back could go the hell away.

“Yeah!” Eugene laughed, his voice as perpetually upbeat as ever. I liked him and considered him a gaming friend, but he did have an elevated opinion of his own sense of humor. “Tall, dark, and clueless. Just how you usually like them, right?”

“I don’t have a type,” I lied. If my crushes and sporadic dates had tended toward jocks, well, that was merely coincidence. And probably something I should work on changing. I knew better, even if my body didn’t. Not a type and absolutely nothing to do with Milo.

“Yeah, you do.” Eugene had been around enough not to buy my bluster.

“Well, so do you.” I raised my eyebrows because the blond, bubbly friends he’d brought along were both totally his type, to the point that I wasn’t entirely sure which was the current girlfriend. Both wasn’t outside the realm of possibility either.

“Guilty.” Shrugging, Eugene smiled slyly as he leaned against the wall. “And you’re changing the subject.”

“No, I’m not. And yeah, I’m very sure.” Tired of standing, I took a seat on the floor, hoping that Eugene might take a hint and move along or at least drop this topic, but instead he flopped down next to me.

“He’s watched all your matches.”

No way was I explaining our arrangement, so I merely stretched, rolling my tight back muscles. “He’s probably bored.”

“Nah. He wants you.” Eugene nodded like a guy who knew his way around attraction. Which he did, but he was dead wrong here. “He watches you like you’re a slot machine about to come up cherries.”

Well, that metaphor actually wasn’t inaccurate as Milo was super invested in me paying out. And no way was there anything else in his gaze, his bizarre comment about me being cute notwithstanding. Distracted, I’d almost lost my first match until I’d decided that Milo meant cute in a dismissive way, like I was still a kid or maybe a pet dog, and not cute.

“You really need to stop going to Atlantic City.” I knew that suggestion wouldn’t go over well. In addition to playing Odyssey for fun, Eugene was something of a card shark with a poker obsession.

“Spending money. It comes in handy.”

“I’m sure.” I’d never had money I was willing to risk losing by gambling.

“And here comes your prince now. With food.” Eugene gestured toward the front of the lobby where Milo was scanning the crowd.

I waved him over before answering Eugene. “Just because he cosplays as Neptune doesn’t make him my prince.”

“Wait a sec.” Eugene’s eyes went wide as his nose wrinkled. He wasn’t a cosplay fan. “You’re saying you got him to wear a toga and do that whole costume-brigade thing you do? And you don’t think he’s into you?”

If only.But I didn’t get a chance to set him straight before Milo was right next to us with my sandwich and an endearingly eager expression. “It’s still cold out so I got you cheese steak. Figured you’d need something warm. It’s drafty in here.”

Eugene’s expression behind Milo’s back was all-knowing. He needed to get a grip if he was seeing heart eyes while Milo was simply trying to keep me fed so I’d win his cards for him. And I needed to remember that too. Milo was only here because he needed something, not because he needed me. I should tattoo that difference on my arm because it was too easy to forget, especially when he plunked down next to me, our legs brushing as he squeezed in so others could pass.

“Oops. Sorry.”

“No worries.” I accepted the food from him and unwrapped my sandwich, which smelled as good as it looked.

“Food okay? You can trade with me if you want. I got meatball.” Milo held out his own sandwich. Cute. He was cute in all senses of the word, and my stomach wobbled. Danger. Danger.

“I’m good.”

“So you keep saying,” he teased. Our gazes met, and his little grin made me want to pretend just for a second that he was here for me, that he was my guy, and that he actually cared about warming me up. He leaned forward. “Tell me about your morning?”

“Not bad. My transforming deck is getting a workout.” I had a couple of competitive decks, but the transforming deck was my standby, and its tricky mechanic was working well against some pricier decks.

“Yeah, it is. You sure that you’re not going for a top-eight finish?” Eugene asked right as his friends arrived with food of their own. He ended up with a girl on either side of him and some sort of fancy salad to eat.

“Nah. I mean, it would be nice, but I’m not all that.”

“You’re too humble,” Milo insisted, bumping shoulders with me. “I saw you win a number of rounds. Lots of points?”

Points. Yeah. His cards. Why we were there. Sigh. “Some.”

Truth was that I was a bit behind where I wanted to be, and I needed to rack up some more wins before someone else claimed the cards from the prize wall.

“You can do it.” Milo’s faith in me was both humbling and irritating because I wasn’t sure what would happen if I failed. Would he want out of the bargain? Would I even see him again? I hated the uncertainty but hated myself more for caring so much.

We passed the rest of the meal break with more small talk with Eugene, who had all the latest gossip on our other gamer friends. Milo mainly let the conversation swirl around him, but he wasn’t sullen about it. More like he was content to listen, and I liked his quiet presence far more than I should. If I could get past the whole jerk-from-high-school thing, I had to admit he’d probably make someone a good boyfriend. Not me, obviously. But someone.

“Hey. What about you? You have someone?” I asked as Milo walked me back into the main gaming space.

“Someone what?” Milo scrunched up his face, thinking far too hard for a guy who probably had a flock of girls following him, same as Eugene.

“You asked earlier if I had a boyfriend. And I realized that I’m not the only one giving up my weekend. You have a girlfriend who’s going to care about your new toga-wearing hobby?”

“No.” The tips of Milo’s ears went pink. “No girlfriend.”

“Back at college?” I pressed, way too interested in finding out who Milo had been the last few years.

Shrugging, he pursed his mouth. “Not really. I had friends, but nothing like that.”

I read between the lines to see a string of hookups. “Ah. A player. Should have guessed.”

“I wouldn’t say that—”

“Jasper! I get to play you again.” Naomi, a fellow cosplayer who loved dressing as a reaper bride, greeted me. Her stuff was already set up, and I had to scramble to get my mat and cards out. No time to dwell on Milo’s denial. And it wasn’t my business what he had or had not been doing at college.

What mattered now was winning him the cards he needed. Not for the first time that day I wished I’d been able to finish that road trip last summer and play in the big national tournament. That would have honed my skills more for regional competitions like these. As it was, Naomi was a skilled player, one who had beaten me in both casual and competitive play before, and she demanded my full attention. Still, though, I was all too aware of Milo hovering nearby. At one point in the game I glanced over, and he gave me this encouraging smile that made my heart do a most unwelcome flip.

I messed up an attack step, and Naomi went in for the kill. I narrowly managed to block the lethal blow. I couldn’t afford another loss. By my calculations, I needed this match and one more. No more looking in Milo’s direction. Head in the game in more than one way. I had a mission and I couldn’t afford any more mistakes.