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Watching gaming, with these two, and just having fun? Epic. Doing it surrounded by more crowds where I needed to be the two-dimensional version of myself? Boo. But this was all part of the plan. This was what I needed to find an in. “I’m free.”
“Same.” Graham slid his hand under mine, palm up, and wove his fingers through mine. “Are you all right?”
I’d let my exhaustion bleed into my voice, and hadn’t meant to. “Totally fine.” I summoned the internal sunshine again, to match the warmth peeking over the tops of the mountains.
“Don’t do that. Don’t ever think you have hide how you feel.” There was a light edge to Oz’s voice.
I wasn’t faking happy, I’d simply rather stay with joy than slide into unpleasant feelings. “I’m not.”
Graham squeezed my hand. “If you’re not up for Tuesday night, we don’t have to do it.”
“I’m not going to turn the opportunity down. I’m a little filtered is all. A day to recharge with my two favorite men, and I’ll be fine.” Unless we worked all day, setting more appointments to fill my calendar with talking to people.
I swallowed the train of thought that would lead into blahness. Oz’s and Graham’s company was better than cupcakes and rainbows, and when they were like this, their energy was healing.
Oz’s quiet sigh tickled my insecurity. Was he disappointed in me? I didn’t want that.
“You ever play the original Hoarde games?” Graham’s question was an obvious and welcome right turn in the conversation. “Before Digital Media ruined them?”
Cord’s flagship title when they were a brand new company.
“I played them to death.” Oz snorted. Of course he did. He helped write them.
I shook my head. “Not so much. The whole FPS, shoot-to-kill isn’t my thing.” I didn’t have a problem with the video game violence when it was as pixelated as those games had been, but I hated the tension of sneaking around, waiting for something to jump out at me.
“I played those games so much.” Graham sounded nostalgic. “They got me through pre-grad.”
Oz laughed. An actual chuckle. “They got me out of having to do pre-grad.” He’d learned most of his skills on the job, rather than going to college.
Every time I remembered that, I was impressed. “You know what? I’ve been talking about myself all week, and I already know about me. You guys should talk about you.” I knew surprisingly little considering how much time I’d spent with each of them. They’d done an effective job of never letting the conversations delve too deeply into their personal lives.
“On one condition,” Graham said.
What was I supposed to do with a reply like that?
I chose to be amused. “Talking about yourselves requires a negotiation?”
Oz nodded. “In this case it does. Terms are, you have to take a day off.”
Wasn’t this Graham’s deal?
“I have to?”
“No work at all today,” Graham said.
Oh gosh golly gee darn. “But why?” I let the mock despair bleed into my voice, trying to make it obvious I was joking.
Oz headed toward an exit. We were miles from his place. “Change of plans. We’re doing something different today.”
“It’s going to be gorgeous and sunny,” Graham said.
Oz glanced at him. “Picnic?”
“You don’t strike me as a picnic kind of guy,” Graham countered.
I had the distinct impression I was being set up. And I loved it.
Oz squeezed my knee. “I’m a make my baby girl happy kind of guy.”
