Page 14 of Level Up for Love

He looks a little different. His shoulders are broader, his short hair is overgrown and not as immaculately styled, and he doesn’t look nearly as put together as he used to. But despite everything that’s changed, I know those eyes.

Realization hits me like white-hot lightning.

Oh, fucking hell.

Not Warlock.

Warlocke.

I can barely hear Shay’s introductions over the buzzing anger building in my skull. “You’ve already met Colin,” she’s saying, “and this is—”

“Wesley Locke,” I say, interrupting her. My voice is flat, toneless. My knuckles are white against the edge of the table. I don’t remember grabbing it.

Six years ago, I would have paid good money to watch him flounder in front of a group of people the way he is now, his skin several shades paler and his mouth hanging silently open.

But today? I’d pay good money to never see him again.

Shay blinks. “You know each other?”

“No,” Mona says with a gasp, swinging to face me. “Wesley Wesley?”

She has never met him, of course. But when I was in college, he’d been the subject of plenty of FaceTime catchups and rants over text. So, of course, when I nod, Mona—bless her—immediately turns, gently touches Shay’s forearm, and says, “We can’t stay.”

Shay blinks again, bewildered. “Why not?”

I glance between them. Shay’s shoulders slump, the stack of game guides and notebooks tucked under her arm hanging limp. Mona’s eyes are creased and apologetic, but the line of her mouth is set firm. “Because—”

“Because Mona thinks I can’t get over some old school-days rivalry.” I stride toward the opposite end of the table, each step feeling like I’m walking into battle.

Mona’s eyes flash to me, alarmed, because Wesley and I weren’t just college rivals. It’s more than that—even Wesley’s answering wince confirms that it’s more than that—but no. I don’t walk away. I won’t walk away.

“You went to school together, huh?” Arthur asks.

“College,” Wesley says absently, eyes still trained on me. It’s the first time he’s spoken since he gasped my name. He clears his throat. “Just a few towns up.”

I bare my teeth in what I hope passes for a grin. “It was a long time ago. Wasn’t it, Wesley?”

Finally, his jaw closes with a snap, and underneath dark brows knit with uncertainty, his eyes narrow at me. He knows what I’m doing. I’m issuing a challenge. I’m willing to stay and play nice, at least for this first session—but is he? If he’s a shit DM, I’ll leave. If anybody gives Mona or me grief, we’ll leave. Hell, if he asks me to go, I will.

But there’s a sparkle in Mona’s eye when she looks at Shay, one I haven’t seen in a while. It’s not Wesley I’m giving a chance—it’s her.

And when he casts a sidelong glance to Shay, who drums her dark nails nervously against the cover of her notebook as she frowns at the room’s sudden tension, I know he’s thinking the same thing.

Wesley looks back at me. For a moment, all of our history and everything left unsaid seems to fill the space between us—it’s just as much of a battleground as the D&D game we’re about to play. But as he slowly leans back in his chair and toys with the twenty-sided die lying on top of his notes, he nods to himself, just a little.

“Sure,” he says eventually, his tone neutral. “It was a long time ago.”

I sink down into my chair before looking at Mona, who still stands uncertainly. “It’s fine, Mona,” I say. “Let’s play.”

“But—”

“It’s fine.”

Wesley’s gaze is steady on my face as I settle in at the opposite end of the table from him. He doesn’t look surprised anymore—if anything, there’s an edge in his eyes that I can’t quite identify.

I’m sure he’s realizing all over again that, despite everything that happened, I’m not one to retreat from a challenge or disappear at the first sign of difficulty.

Not like he did.

And I’m sure he knows well enough already that both Sindra and I are perfectly capable of cutting him down.

Save for the gothic melody still ringing from the speakers, silence stretches across the table. Wesley’s head is cocked slightly to the side, his eyes rapidly scanning through the backstory sheets I gave him. I wonder what he thinks of them and whether he’s changing his mind about playing after all. But then he speaks again, and all the shock and tension of the last five minutes fades out of his voice. His tone is resonant and rich, like he’s stepping into a different role entirely, lulling us into a different world.

“And so our story begins, set against the backdrop of the ancient kingdom of Moros,” Wesley intones, and I find it difficult not to be pulled in by his lilting cadence. “We will begin, as we always do, with introducing our cast of characters. Some of you have spent your whole lives in this kingdom, and you have witnessed firsthand the way a dark, insidious curse has recently gripped your homeland. Some of you have traveled from afar, called to help solve the mystery of this land’s plight. And some of you are from a different realm entirely.”

His eyes flash up to Mona’s face, then to mine.

“You are drawn unwittingly into this plot and tasked with saving a strange kingdom, lest its curse spread and infect your own…”