Aaron doesn’t speak again until we approach the small cafe strip along the street, a few blocks away from my house. We pass a small Italian cafe—almost—and Aaron takes my arm.

“Here. I’ll buy you a decent pizza, not that fast food crap. Outside or in?” He gestures at the small round tables and uncomfortable-looking wooden chairs beneath a canopy. Despite the Perth sunshine, the late autumn temperature is cool.

“Inside.” I step past him and into the dimly lit cafe. Sunday-lunchers fill most tables, the majority couples our age—or mine. The fresh aroma from the oven and huge pizzas spread between couples sets my stomach to growling louder than next door’s dog.

Aaron pulls a chair out for me to sit, and I mumble thanks at his gentlemanly gesture. One very attentive, smiling waitress later, we have two menus and scrutiny from the whispering staff. I study Aaron as he reads the menu, and I step back from the Evie who’s annoyed this guy screws her around and return to the one who almost threw herself at him the moment he re-appeared. I glance back at the tattooed waitress whose look echoes my thoughts: ‘We don’t see many men around here who look like him’.

He glances up. “Aren’t you choosing?”

“Chicken Cacciatore.”

“Want to share?”

“Sure, if you like that flavour.”

He flashes a smile. “All good. Wine or beer?”

The discomfort I expected melts away as we chat; perhaps if I closed my eyes I could pretend we’re in game and that this isn’t a pseudo-date with a man I slept with and dreamed that repeat performances would be a delicious distraction.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and I tear my eyes away from his hands and what I was imagining he could do with them.

“Did you plan to visit me this weekend when you came to Perth?” I ask.

“No, but as soon as I arrived here the idea became a yes.”

“You could’ve contacted me before arriving at my door.”

He sets down the menu. “I could’ve, but I didn’t.”

I tighten my mouth. “So why are you in Perth?”

“Family issues. Kind of.”

“Oh?”

Focusing on cutting the pizza, he wipes his fingers on a napkin. “This isn’t a ‘spill everything about ourselves’ afternoon, Evie.” His voice is low and warning me to back off.

“Family drama!” I say light-heartedly. “I totally get that. Mine constantly nag me.”

“What about?”

“Finding a ‘proper job’.” I make inverted commas with my fingers. “I hoped they’d shut up when I landed the manager role at the store, but I didn’t have the confidence to apply.” I slide a slice towards me and focus hard on not allowing the topping to land on the table. Real, tasty crusts softened by cheese and goodness and... I take a bite and my tastebuds sing.

“You’re young, do your own thing if that’s what makes you happy.”

“Happy and poor. I probably need to focus on the world outside of the game.”

“You and me both.” He takes a huge bite and we watch each other, chatting between mouthfuls.

“Your job sounds interesting,” I say.

“Yeah. Wish I was more creative like you.”

“Me? I’m not.”

“Your art, Evie. I’ve seen what you post online, and don’t forget I was in your bedroom. Saw your sketches and you’re pretty awesome. Ever thought about studying design? Hell, maybe you could work for the game and design graphics.”

I blink away the image created by the words ‘your bedroom’ spoken in Aaron’s sexy tones. “Ha, I don’t think so. Yeah, I’ve considered studying but I don’t know where to start looking. I open up websites to look, and all the options confuse me.”

“Just look at the situation as a quest,” he says. “A real life one.”

“The hardest real life quest I’ve conquered recently is the laundry.”

“Better than me, then. I want to find and defeat the mobs who steal my socks when I do my laundry.”

I lick my fingers and pick up my beer. “You’re weird.”

“So are you. That’s why I like you.”

I fight turning pink. “So, advertising? Worked there long?”

“For a couple of years in Sydney. I worked for the same firm in Perth first.”

“More opportunity in Sydney?”

“Something like that.” He pauses. “You thought any more about leaving Perth?”

“Not really. Life’s less complicated here. Everybody I knew my whole life is still around. I like that.”

“Lucky.” He swigs from his bottle then rubs his lips together.

“Why did you hide things so ordinary as your job?” I ask. “It’s not as if you’re Special Forces or anything.”

“Or am I?” He cocks a brow. “Just kidding. The more people know about you, the more of you they have, if that makes sense? I like my privacy these days.”

“Privacy or anonymity?”

He places the empty bottle on the table. “Being Thorsday.”

“But you can be Aaron with me. Is that what you’re trying to tell me by coming here?”

“I had to see you,” he says in a low tone. “We barely speak and I realised we stopped being Thor and Sin long before that night at the party. I looked back at all the time we spent together online and realised the game wasn’t the escape anymore, you were. When I lost Sinestre, I lost Evie too.”

I blink. “Wow.”

Aaron reaches across the table and runs his fingers across the back of my hand, the sensation fluttering across my chest. “I want to see more of you. Online and offline. Clothed and naked.”

I stare back, attempting very hard not to look like he smacked me across the face with his shield. I clear my throat. “You want us to... what? Date?”

He places his other hand on mine. “Not sure that’s the right word, but then what is? We’re in separate cities. That won’t change.”

I fold the edge of my napkin and focus on the thoughts and fantasies I’ve had about this exact situation. “So you’re suggesting we try to be... something outside of the game?”

“We can catch up whenever possible. I’m in Perth every few months. Doesn’t have to be too serious.”

“I need to get this straight.” I lay my hands out on the table. “You visited me today to tell me you don’t want a long-distance relationship, but when you come to Perth you want to see me. Long distance friends with benefits idea?”

“No. I want to spend time with you the way we are now, wait for life to become less complicated, see where yours leads. I’m twenty-six and you’re twenty-one. You have no plans but a lot in your future. I am staying in the life I have. The two may not match.”

“But we match,” I whisper.

“We definitely spark something. I want that spark, even if you move on soon.”

“Why do you presume I’ll be the one to move on?”

He squeezes my hand. “Because I might not give you what you need.”

“How do people manage a long-distance relationship without commitment?”

He shrugs. “Wish I knew but it’s worth a shot, right?”

His legs touch mine under the table as he shifts closer and my heart rate rises to a level that would find me on the critical list. Common sense brain says ‘thanks, but no thanks.’ Heart says ‘look at him, for god’s sake, and think about all the losers you’ve met recently’.

Hell, who cares? At least this one knows what he’s doing.