Page 43 of Level Up for Love

“Video games.” I’ve toyed with a few ideas for board games and other tabletops, but my skill set is better suited for video games.

“Hell yeah, me, too,” he says. I glance to his name tag, which reads Jace. He passes me a sheet of paper crowded with text about submission guidelines, a QR code included for more info. “All you need to know is here. Submissions close on the last day of January, and we host our showcase and awards at the festival in March. Is this the first game you’ve made?”

I shake my head. “Just the first I’m entering.” I look up at Jace, whose expression is open and friendly. He’s obviously familiar with this space; he might…

I clear my throat. “I made After Dark, and Witching Hour?”

His brows jump high on his forehead. “You’re Witch Riley?” he asks, nearly hiccuping over the name I publish my games under. “No way,” he says with a laugh. “I loved After Dark. My friends and I were obsessed with it, though we could only play during the day—got too scared at night!”

I smile. “That’s how my sister has to play it, too.”

“Wow, it’s so great to meet you. I can’t wait to see what you submit.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Jace. I’m—”

Before I can say my real name, someone beats me to it.

“Reagan.” The voice comes from behind me, its tone thick with amusement and edged with self-assured satisfaction. I’d recognize it anywhere.

Wesley.

He approaches with his hands dipped into the pockets of his jeans, teeth flashing in that familiar crooked grin.

“We have got to stop meeting like this,” I warn, and it sounds like a threat. Hell, maybe it is. At this point, I’m starting to wonder whether he’s following me.

With Wesley all smiles and me trying to burn two holes into his skull with my laser-like gaze, Jace shifts uncomfortably in the rapid change of atmosphere. He offers up a hesitant smile. “Is this your partner?”

“No,” I snap, too harshly. “I work alone. I’m in the solo dev contest.”

Wesley’s eyes sparkle. I want to pluck them out of his head. “How funny,” he drawls. “So am I.”

My field of vision narrows until the only thing I can see is Wesley’s fucking dimple, and the chatter around me dulls beneath the ringing in my ears.

I have a new project I’m working on, he’d said.

I should have known.

Jace casts an uneasy sidelong glance toward me before launching into his pitch for Wesley’s benefit. I grip the info sheet so tightly at my side that the paper begins to crease.

I try to calm my shaking hands, try to loosen my jaw where it’s locked tight. My chest feels like it’s on fire, and it takes a concentrated effort to keep my breathing even. What pisses me off, though, is the realization that I’m not angry at all.

I’m excited.

Wesley and I both know this battlefield like the backs of our hands. I can’t think of a better motivator than wanting to crush him to dust. It’s not wholly spite that has driven me to compete with him in the past. It’s the fact that I know he’s good—but I can be better.

“Well,” Wesley murmurs, turning away from the booth and looking down at me with a rude coy smirk. “I’ve got my work cut out for me, don’t I?”

I’m grinning back; I can’t help it.

“You have no idea.”

I can’t wait to tell Mona. She’ll get such a kick out of this, and I know she’ll do everything she can to help me get the game ready by the end of January. I’ve done maybe five laps around the Artist’s Alley looking for her before I finally get her text.

Mona:

omg shay and i want to go to the dungeons & drag queens panel

i’ll meet you at dinner?