Page 41 of Level Up for Love

Hope. It’s so little to go off of, Sindra thinks skeptically. It’s a terrible plan, just about as useful as ordering the clergy to start praying for a new crown, and gods know they’ve probably already tried that.

“You’re putting a lot of trust in an empty wish,” Sindra says.

“It’s all we have,” Antoni says bluntly.

Moss nods. “Then it’s where we’ll start.”

Internally, Sindra sighs as she and the others climb the stairs back into the heart of the chapel. Perhaps it’s time for her to start praying, too.

“Okay, okay, take it easy, Shakespeare,” Colin teases as he squeezes Wesley’s upper arm. “What the fuck was that, iambic pentameter?”

Mona lets out a sharp laugh. “No, it wasn’t,” she says dryly. And then she’s quick to assure Wesley, “But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t good! It was good!”

She may not use her English degree as much as she originally planned to, but it rears its head at the funniest times.

After we finish cleaning up from the session, we linger on the sidewalk outside of Game Knight as Colin fishes a ring of jangling keys from his pocket and locks up the store. We’d gone on a bit longer than usual today, but in true D&D fashion after a good game, everyone wants to stay and unpack the events of the session together.

As Shay and Arthur discuss their characters’ backstories and history with the resistance movement, I glance at Wesley. He’s glowing—figuratively and literally, the streetlight capturing him in its cone of warm golden light. And though I’m slow to admit it, he deserves the praise. It was an excellent session: a timely break from tough combat, chock-full of surprising twists, with plenty of rich worldbuilding and lore delivered in a creative and moving fashion.

Fuck me, but he actually sang.

Clever, cocky boy, I think ruefully.

And as if he heard my thoughts, his gaze slides to me.

He sways toward me until his shoulder bumps teasingly into mine. It’s cold enough at this hour that I’m a little tempted to lean into it, but instead, I stand very, very still. “You’re still having fun, aren’t you?” he accuses, his low voice only a touch above a whisper. His favorite table snack, I’ve learned, is an entire roll of SweeTarts; I can smell the chalky sweetness on his breath.

“Fuck off,” I say, though I can’t keep the fondness out of my tone.

I’m so caught up with Wesley that I don’t realize Mona’s telling the others about our weekend plans.

“You all should come with us,” she says brightly. “We don’t mind.”

We don’t? For weeks, I’ve been preparing to go with just Mona, trying to ignore the memories of when we went with our old crew. I’m not sure I’m ready to open it up again.

But Wesley’s eyes shine.

“ComicConnecticut? I had plans to go anyway.” He grins and focuses on me. “I’ll be there.”