Page 14 of Quit Playing Games with My Heart

“Do something about what?” I asked, playing dumb.

Diccon snorted and shook his head. “Oh my gosh, and I thought I was hopeless.”

“Am I the only one around here who remembers Matt and Melissa?” I asked, leaning closer to him and trying to keep my voice down by moving my mouth as little as possible.

That only made Diccon laugh harder. “Am I the only one around here who recognizes an excuse when he hears it?”

I took a step back and frowned at him. “It’s not an excuse,” I insisted, then immediately glanced across the room to where Brian was walking the last of our customers to the door and waving them goodbye. “I don’t want to upset the balance around here.”

“See?” Diccon grinned at me. “Another excuse. God, you’re full of them. You need to get over yourself and make a move already.”

“I don’t know if Brian wants me to⁠—”

I couldn’t even finish the sentence. I knew it was a lie.

I sighed and rubbed a hand over my face. “Maybe it’s stupid of me, but the employee dating rule thing matters to me,” I said, still keeping my voice down and watching to make sure Brian didn’t walk back in and hear what I was saying. “I wrote the rule, so wouldn’t I be a massive hypocrite if I also broke it?”

Diccon fixed me with a flat look like only a younger brother who thought his older brother was an idiot could manage. “You wrote the rule,” he said. “So change it.”

Change the rule. That seemed like such a glib and oversimplified thing to do.

Or maybe it was a stroke of genius and I was just overcomplicating everything.

Either way, I shook my head and went back to cleaning up chessboards. Brian wandered back into the room a few seconds later, and when he did, Diccon mysteriously disappeared, leaving the two of us alone.

“I’ll give you this much,” Brian said once we’d gathered up all the boards and timers and stacked them in the closet at the back of the performance space. “Cleaning up after a chess tournament is faster than tidying up open games night. Fewer pieces, less mess.”

“Not to mention the fact that the sort of people who play chess tend to be less rowdy than your open games crowd,” I said with a smirk as I locked up the closet, then gestured for Brian to walk with me to the front door.

“Less rowdy, less fun,” Brian said with a lopsided grin and a sparkle in his eyes.

The man was making it extremely difficult for me to keep my distance and my hands to myself.

We locked up, but paused outside the café’s door. It was a balmy night, and without the construction noise, the sidewalk outside the café felt almost peaceful. Brian and I were illuminated by the light of a streetlamp, which somehow made the strong lines of his face and the good humor in his eyes stand out even more.

It would have been so easy to step into him and kiss him again. I still couldn’t get our first kiss out of my head. Even with my hangups, I had to admit Brian had been eager for that kiss. He looked like he could use another one.

He looked like he could use someone to fold him in their arms and never let go.

I sucked in a breath and took a step back. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” I said, giving him a tight smile, though I felt like giving him so much more.

Brian’s expression flickered for a second, but he put on a valiant smile. “Yep, tomorrow,” he said.

“Okay, good night. Get home safely.” I raised a hand and waved at him like a doofus.

We stared at each other for a few more seconds before turning and going our own ways. I grimaced at my cowardice as I made my way down Glenside Ave and the turn to the street where our family house stood.

“Get a grip, Samwise,” I muttered to myself as I picked up my pace, eager to get home. “You’re letting a stupid rule and someone else’s trauma from years ago stand in your way,”

I was probably using the whole Matt and Melissa thing as an excuse to not make myself vulnerable and put myself out there, too. But by the time I made it home, tossed my keys into the communal bowl by the window, and marched past the room where Gilbert, Diccon, and Theo were watching some late-night TV program to head up to my room, a new sort of resolution was growing inside me.

I wasn’t going to let this stand in my way. Everyone was right. Brian and I would be good together, and if a stupid rule in an employee handbook was keeping us apart, I had the power to do something about it.

I stripped down to my boxer-briefs once I was in my room and grabbed my laptop before climbing into bed. Filled with a new confidence, I opened up the employee handbook and scrolled down to the rule against coworkers dating. I already knew what changes I needed to make, and it took less than a minute to delete one sentence and to add another. I wasn’t going to be held back by the past for another day.

My resolve held strong through the night and into the next morning, which was as much of a sign that I was on the right path as anything. I showed Gilbert and Diccon the change as the three of us ate breakfast before heading to work.

“It’s about damn time,” Diccon said, throwing up his arms in exasperation.