Page 11 of Quit Playing Games with My Heart

“That’s fantastic.”

“And we’ve got the solo gamers who had a great time getting to know people and trying new things,” Brian continued. “A good sixty percent of the people who were here last night had never been to Common Grounds before, and they say they’ll definitely come back.”

“Perfect.” I burst into a genuine smile of relief. “That’s exactly what we need right now.” As if to underscore that, the loud growl and crunch of some piece of machinery flared up on the other side of the wall. I grimaced, then focused on the things that really mattered. “Where are the comment cards. We can go over each comment individually.”

Of all things, Brian’s smile faded. “Um, I left the cards in the performance space. But I remember everything each one of them said.”

I don’t know why that hit me wrong. There was nothing odd or unusual in someone reading a bunch of comment cards and summarizing what they all said. I didn’t really need to pore over everything myself to believe what Brian was telling me.

“Did anyone say anything about how we could improve?” I asked, the instinct to do something about the touch of uncertainty I felt from Brian filling me.

“Nothing overly negative,” Brian said, bouncing back to some of the enthusiasm he’d had earlier, though I still sensed a thread of caution from him. “One person didn’t like the game selection. Another thought the group playing Jenga was too loud. But overall, the feedback is really good. One person even said they’re looking forward to your chess tournament tomorrow night, though why anyone would love that sort of structured format is beyond me.”

He was teasing me. I could tell from the blush that crept up his face and the cheeky sparkle that filled his eyes. And I loved it. I loved that Brian could loosen up with me, that we weren’t stuck in strict boss/employee roles. We could be friends.

We could be more.

It took me a full twenty seconds to realize that I hadn’t replied verbally to Brian’s teasing. I’d just sat there, making eyes at him.

God, he was so pretty. Not in an overt or showy way. Brian wasn’t femme or anything, not that I would have minded if he was. I appreciated men who were in touch with their feminine side as much as anyone. Brian managed to wear his naturally boyish and charming looks like a man, regardless of his age. He must have worked out at least a little, because his muscles were definitely there, but not bulging. His height and his curls made him look so fresh and innocent and maybe a little unready to face the world.

I wanted to take care of him, and I wanted to take care of him. If that kiss was anything to go by, Brian was no delicate flower who only liked things sweet.

I was still staring. I needed to say something, not get lost even more in thoughts I definitely shouldn’t have been having for an employee.

I cleared my throat and squirmed in my chair, trying to find a way to sit that wouldn’t give away just how heated my thoughts had tried to turn. “So we’ve got one games night success under our belts. Tomorrow we’ll give my idea a try.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Brian said, his voice rougher than it’d been moments before. “Have you been advertising around town, fliers and things?”

I could have kissed him for focusing the conversation back on work.

Which would have been exactly the opposite of what I should have done.

“I have,” I said with a nod. “I’ve taken a slightly different approach from you. You went for the young crowd, but for contrast, I’ve been searching out a slightly older group. I sent around a few notices to the over fifty-five apartment complexes in the area, and I’ve gone with a more traditional community noticeboard approach.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Brian said. “The wider we cast the net the better.”

“I’m still convinced I’m going to win the revenue game,” I said, grinning in a way that was absolutely not flirting.

“Never,” Brian replied, his answering smile warmer than ever. “Team open games night forever! We’re gonna kick your ass.”

I laughed. “Doubtful,” I played along. “I’ve seen the future, and it’s tournament games night.”

“In your dreams, Meyers,” Brian’s smile shifted to a smug look. “My idea is going to run circles around yours.”

“Your idea can barely keep up.” I kicked my foot out, nudging his as he leaned back in Gilbert’s chair.

“You think?” Brian knocked his foot against mine, beaming with impishness.

I pushed back against his foot, and two seconds later, we ended up in a juvenile kicking match, nudging and tapping each other’s feet like kids.

At least, like kids until our eyes met. The desire in Brian’s hazel eyes was blatant. I felt that heat all the way inside me. Even that little bit of contact between our feet and ankles was a whisper of other contact I was sure we both wanted.

Except we couldn’t.

I winced and pulled myself to sit straighter in my chair. “Listen,” I said having a hard time meeting his eyes again when we were so locked into each other just moments before. “About what happened at the end of the night last night.”

Brian’s playful grin faded so quickly it made me feel like shit for bringing it up. “I’m sorry about that,” he said, lowering his head. “I shouldn’t have⁠—”