Just a Game » Dave East

three.

I was still fuming about what Kayla had said as I cleaned up the kitchen. Not so much because it was untrue, but because it was obviously true and I hated that she threw it in my face like that.

My crush started right around the time I was beginning to notice boys and it just never let up. Still to this day I'd occasionally catch myself daydreaming about him, indulging in half-formed fantasies that would leave my breath short and my heart beating fast. The fact that I couldn't seem to stop was part of the reason I made such a show about hating him.

That and old habits die hard. We'd been calling him The Dick for years, but it didn't really mean anything anymore. Throughout our adolescence he'd borne the brunt of all our anger and frustration with males—or at least all of mine and my best friends went along with me. Not that he noticed; he seemed to see it all as a game. He teased and insulted me back, but there was never any heat in it. He treated me like an annoying little sister. 

Which just pissed me off even more.

At any rate, I knew I'd been clinging to my grudge for far too long, but he'd hurt me at such a fragile point in my life that it was hard to let go of being mad at him. Especially since letting go of being mad would mean I was left feeling like a sad loser who never got over my unrequited childhood crush. 

Which is exactly what I was, but that didn't mean I wanted to acknowledge it.

And if I stopped avoiding him, or when that failed being rude to him, he was bound to notice that I could hardly look at him without blushing. Could barely speak when he was around without stumbling over my words.

It was ridiculous. I was a grown woman...well, a mostly grown woman, and I knew I was attractive. Dancing kept my body lean and in shape, even if my butt was a little on the big side, and I was blessed with pretty features and good hair. I never had trouble meeting guys or talking to them, but despite all that, somehow just being around Dave made me feel like a stupid little kid again.

"You trying to scrub the Santas off that bowl?"

I jumped and dropped the bowl in the sink with a loud clatter. I didn't turn and look at Dave, hiding my blush and afraid he'd notice I wasn't wearing a bra. Instead I picked the bowl up and rinsed it while I attempted to get my pounding heart under control.

"Aren't there virtual people you should be shooting with a virtual gun in a virtual war of some kind?"

"War's on pause. Jasmine's got a hold of Antonio's joystick."

"Ew, I really didn't want to know that."

"All's fair in love and war."

"Love? Is that what that is?"

"Well, it sounded like she was loving it from outside the door."

"Oh my God, stop. I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit."

"Why? There's nothing wrong with having a little fun, is there?"

I froze. His voice suddenly came from right behind me, so close I'd have sworn I could feel the heat from his body against my back, but he wasn't touching me. My heart pounded loud in my ears and a wave of dizziness washed over me. Was I still drunk?

As I stared down at the sink wondering what I should do, I saw his hands come down on the counter on either side of me, and then he was touching me. His chest leaned lightly against my back, not quite pressing me into the counter. I slowly lowered the bowl into the sink and braced my hands against the counter to hide their shaking.

"I mean, we're all adults here, right? If adults want to spend some...free time with each other...enjoy a little...physical recreation...there's nothing wrong with that, is there?"