At Any Moment (Gaming The System Book 3) (11 page)

He frowned. “You okay? You seem distracted.”

“I think I need to puke. And you don’t need to see it.” I forced down a wave of nausea that had washed over me like a tsunami of sick.

I turned, slipping into the bathroom and falling to my knees, into the familiar position of praying to the porcelain gods. Even though the initial wretched days of my first round of chemotherapy were behind me, I still felt sick—at least once a day, sometimes more. Maybe that was the real reason Adam had decided to put me up in my own room—so he wouldn’t have to hear me hurl daily. Hopefully that meant he’d stay in the other room while I took care of this.

Chapter Twelve
Adam

I stood frozen for a moment while Emilia heaved into the toilet. Uncertainty froze me because the first thing I wanted to do was go in there and comfort her, but she’d specifically told me to stay away.

I went to the closet and grabbed a spare throw and some pillows and took them to her. It was puzzling because she’d hardly eaten a thing at Heath’s. What could she have possibly had in her stomach to throw up?

She was on her hands and knees, her head down over the toilet bowl and her long hair strewn all around her. I reached down and pulled it back for her.

“What part of ‘you don’t need to see this’ didn’t you understand?” she choked, but from the tone of her voice, she was more dismayed than annoyed or angry. I didn’t move, just kept her hair back for her while I set down the pillows and blanket beside her.

“What’s that for?” she asked.

“For your knees, and the blanket is in case it’s cold down on the floor.”

She choked again and then sat up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. I filled a glass of water from the tap so she could rinse her mouth out. “You are incredibly sweet.”

I sat beside her on the ground. “Shh. Don’t let that get around. My dev team would never believe it, anyway.”

She sat back and looked at me again with that long, enigmatic look. She looked…sad. My chest tightened. She always looked sad these days.

She rested on her heels and gave me a small smile. I took the empty cup from her. “You need help up?”

She was fiddling with her hair, running the part I’d held back from her head through her fingers. “I, uh, I like to stay down here for a little bit, just in case.”

Darting me a look, she grabbed one of the pillows I brought and stuffed it under her butt, sighing in satisfaction. The other one she crammed against the wall and rested against it.

“Hmm, maybe I should get you a little lounge to sit on for these episodes.”

“A toilet lounge?” she grinned. “Your decorator would have a fit.”

I shrugged, leaning back on my own piece of marble-lined wall, the chill seeping through my shirt. I was glad she had the blanket to keep her warm. I wasn’t kidding. I’d e-mail my decorator tonight and get her to find something to fit the bill. Call it a toilet lounge or a commode couch or whatever.

“So there was one more thing I wanted to give you,” I said. I pulled the box from the front pocket of my shirt.

She took one look at it and swallowed and I realized her hesitation was because it was a jewelry box. Good things had not happened the last time I’d handed her a jewelry box. I flipped it open to allay her fears that it was another engagement ring. Besides, who the hell would propose over a toilet?

Her brows went up when her eyes landed on what was inside and then she frowned, clearly intrigued. She reached a hand out and stroked the inside of the box.

“Take it. It’s not going to bite you.”

She stuck her tongue out at me. “You do
not
want me to breathe my barf breath on you, dude.”

“No, I have a feeling that could be a lethal weapon.”

“There isn’t a dragon even you could dream up in
your
twisted imagination that would have breath more lethal.”

I leaned forward and she pulled the piece from the box, the gold chain dangling down. She peered at the object at the end of it and looked up at me with a questioning expression. “A compass?”

I nodded.

Another rush job, this time from a jeweler, who had designed the face of an antique gold compass with a flat backing of dark blue lapis lazuli and a pattern of small diamonds in the form of a constellation on the surface.

“That looks like your company’s logo.”

I was glad she recognized it. “Kind of. They are both patterned after the constellation Draco the Dragon.”

She nodded, fingering the surface. “Is there a special meaning to it, then? Beyond your company name?”

“I wanted to get it for you…as a reminder.”

She slipped the chain around her neck and it rested low on her chest. The chain was long and it dangled just above her breasts over the loose gray T-shirt she wore. “What is it supposed to remind me of?”

“Draco is a constellation in the sky, near the North Star. It’s always in the sky, no matter what time of day and no matter what season.”

She nodded, watching me, her face unreadable. Her fingers went to smooth over the glass surface. “Uh huh…” she said, sounding like a child listening to a story, prompting the storyteller for more.

“It’s the lost Zodiac constellation.” I pointed to the diamond that represented a star in the head of the dragon. “This is Thuban. Four thousand years ago, this star was the North Star. Now it’s forgotten because the earth’s axis has shifted. I chose it as the symbol for my company because it reminded me never to take my eyes from my goal, my true north. So I thought I’d get this as a reminder for you.”

She concentrated on the tiny recreation of the constellation. “My true north. And what is that?”

I wanted so badly to supply that answer for her. Us.
We
are, I wanted to say. I watched her for a long moment, hoping she could figure that out for herself. It wasn’t something I could ever provide for her. “It’s what you have to figure out. It’s your reminder to be strong. To have hope. To keep being the warrior I know you are.”

Her lower lip disappeared into her mouth, her eyes teary. The rest of her froze. Then suddenly, she leapt toward me so fast I thought she would crash right into me. But she hooked her arms around my neck so tightly that she was in danger of cutting off my airway.

“Easy now,” I chuckled. Wow…this got me a much better reaction than the engagement ring. I’d really screwed that one up, hadn’t I?

She held me tight, her knees practically in my lap. My arms came around her to hold her lightly to me. She rocked in my arms before turning her head. “If I didn’t have barf breath, I would kiss you so hard right now.”

I turned and kissed her cheek and loosened my hold on her. “Are you safe from puking again?”

“Probably. I’m going to brush my teeth.”

I got up and went out into the bedroom while she dug through her bag and brushed her teeth. I was messing with the awesome windows when she came in. “I had them install these in my room, too. They are kick-ass! The whole house gets them next. But I had to wait and put them on order while they make them. They also control how much heat comes into the room, and they can make the window one-sided so people can’t see in even while you can look out.”

“You’re such a gadget addict,” she said, watching the windows go from opaque, to frosted, to transparent, and back again, one time abruptly and another time gradually.

I pressed a few more buttons. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. This remote is also an intercom.”

“An intercom? You mean so we don’t have to shout down the hall to each other?” she said, and her voice shook a little when she said it. I glanced at her but pretended not to notice. I was still getting that weird, nervous vibe from her. She’d said as much—that she feared us walking down the same crappy road we’d traveled down before. Not if I could help it. Hopefully I had enough safeguards in place to prevent it.

“Yeah, in case you—well, in case you need me.” I showed her the button to press. “There’s one in your bathroom and I’ve got one in my room and my office and downstairs, too.”

“Can’t I just ring a bell instead? And have you bring me a tray in bed while dressed only in a speedo and bow tie?”

I suppressed a laugh. “I don’t wear speedos.”

She eyed me playfully. “Too damn bad.”

Suddenly a rush of heat rose under my collar. The way she was looking at me…I had to take a deep breath and remind myself that she was sick. There would be none of
that
, no matter how much my body protested. She’d just been on the floor, puking.

Before I could stuff in another thought of protest, however, she came up to me, stepping gingerly and slipping her hands around my neck, lacing them at the back and pulling me down to kiss her.

I tasted the peppermint of her toothpaste and another taste, strong and medicinal, like she’d rinsed her mouth with mouthwash. Her hands tightened around my neck and her kiss deepened, her mouth opening. She pressed her chest against mine and—What was I supposed to remember, again?

My hands slipped to her lower back, pressing her against me. She was saying something but I barely heard over the rush of desire roaring in my ears. She was thanking me for the room, telling me she’d missed me. I opened and slid my tongue into her inviting mouth.

And this was getting out of hand. I pulled my head away gently and she came up on her tiptoes to follow me. So I took a deep breath, stepped back and separated us, still holding her at her waist. She stared up at me with those lovely brown eyes, a tremulous smile on her lips.

“This was so sweet of you,” she whispered. “I can’t—can’t believe that you did all this. But…” Her eyes flicked away.

“But what?” I prompted. If she wanted us to communicate better, there was no time like the present to begin improving.

She backed off, suddenly looking embarrassed. Her teeth clamped down on her luscious bottom lip and her brows lowered over her eyes in a pensive frown. “I just thought we’d…that I’d…” She took a deep breath and I waited, a little nervous as to where this conversation would go. “I thought that when you wanted me to come back that you wanted us to be together, a couple again.”

I put my hands on her cheeks to hold her still. “We do need to work on our relationship. I agree. But right now is about you getting healthy again. I don’t want you to feel any pressure about us. I don’t want to let the difficulties we’ve had get in the way of you getting better.”

“What makes you think they will?”

My hands dropped back to my sides. “This isn’t a good time for drama. And there’s been a lot of drama between us. It’s like what you said before…that we can’t keep making the same mistakes. So we just need to be careful.”

She was watching me, hardly masking her disappointment, fingering her compass while looking at me with wide eyes. “So it’s not because I pushed you away before?”

I shook my head. “No. This isn’t about shutting you out, Mia. It’s…it’s supposed to be your place, a little sanctuary. So you can get better.”

“And you won’t stay here with me…” Her voice was quiet, calm, but it shook just a little. It wasn’t hard to detect her hurt.

“Of course I will…when you want me to. But I think it’s really important that we stay positive and go slow.”

She raised her brows in surprise, but understanding was dawning in her eyes. “Go…slow?”

“So…one step at a time, okay? We have a long road ahead of us and a lot of time to cover that ground. But not today. We will figure this out but the most important thing right now is you—your health, your happiness and well-being…okay?”

She nodded slowly, not looking entirely on board with this plan. “I’m willing to give it a try…” she began quietly.

“Good.” I smiled

“But it might get lonely sometimes…” she started, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Hmmm…” I said, feigning deep thought. “You didn’t bring your little stuffed dog to keep you company?”

She smacked me on the arm with the back of her hand and we laughed. And not long after, we went down to the kitchen, hand in hand.

***

Emilia went in for her second round of chemotherapy a few days later. This time, Heath, and her two closest girlfriends, Alex and Jenna were there, along with her mother and me. But instead of going home to Heath’s afterward, and me having to dream up excuses for camping out on his couch all weekend, she came home with me, where she belonged.

Chapter Thirteen
Mia

“Meta-gaming or the Lives our Characters Lead, Without Us”—Posted on the blog of
Girl Geek
on February 15, 2014

I remember the first time I loaded a simulation game—you know, the ones where your characters actually simulate realistic life. They have a house, a job, relationships. All of these require work to maintain. Clean the house by getting your character to scrub the toilet. Get up at six a.m. to get dressed for work. It was hugely entertaining at first. I spent long hours those first few days pinned in front of the computer, clicking away while my own real-life dietary and cleaning needs were ignored. After that, I never touched the game again. I realized that my characters’ lives were more boring than even my own.

Not so with the other games we know and love. The exciting adventures, zooming through the streets of LA in a stolen car or careening through space exploring the universe in your own spaceship. Or…questing your way across Yondareth with a magical weapon in hand.

But what happens when we hit that log-off button? In the world of massively multiplayer roleplaying games, where thousands of people interact on a server, the world goes on, but our character vanishes from it until the next moment we log in. It’s like our character takes a little vacation from life, stepping into a stasis.

What if, instead of those fantastical adventures our characters lead—or even the more mundane ones of the world-famous simulation games—we logged in to a game where our character logs in to a game to play a computer game?

Wouldn’t that be the ultimate form of meta-escapism?

***

This second round of chemo didn’t floor me for long. Thank God. I hoped that it boded well for the future. I had a chart sitting on the nightstand beside my bed. It had twelve boxes and two of them were now checked off. Two down, ten to go.
Just kill me now.