Regan

I’d prepared for tonight the same way I would for a date. Jamie had me so giddy with nerves that I’d almost forgotten to take the clips out of my hair after I finished styling it. When Jamie had offered Murph the opportunity to test his new game, I did not intend to ask to join his team. But I couldn’t think of another way of getting to know him better.

Most guys want to date me because of my father. That’s their usual M.O. At this point in my life, I can see through the hardcore fanboys, like Murph, and can weed them out. Jamie is different from other men. He’s sexy and smart, funny and charismatic, and most of all—he doesn’t like me because of my last name. The mention of Mike Turner doesn’t give him a rock hard boner, like other guys.

As I ball my hand into a fist and knock on Jamie’s door, I suck in a deep breath.

Why am I so damn nervous?

We’re just hanging out with a bunch of gamers, testing out the demo version of his first-person shooter. This should be easy for me. Instead, my heart is pounding out of my chest, causing my head to spin.

When was the last time I went on a date? This isn’t a date, I remind myself, trying to hold it together. It’s just a bunch of people nerding out together. At least I will have other people around, acting as a buffer to calm my nerves.

Jamie opens the door, all man, and all smiles. With the corners of his mouth turned up, a crease in his left cheek pops out. I never noticed that cute dimple before. It’s really fucking adorable, making me want to squeeze his cheeks. He’s not what you’d think when you hear what he does for a living. Not even close. Jamie has the build of an athlete, the face of a model, and from what I have heard, the mind of a scholar. It’s like hitting the trifecta.

“You showed up,” Jamie says, holding the door open wide enough for me to pass. “I’m glad you could make it.”

For a second, my eyes travel from his face to his muscular arms and shoulders that protrude from a gray Henley and the jeans that hang low on his narrow waist. Jameson O’ Connor is not your average computer nerd. Not by a long shot.

“It’s not every day you get to test a video game before it hits stores. I’m just glad I can help.” I shrug my jacket off and lay it over my arm, as he guides me into the apartment.

With an open floor plan, high ceilings, and plenty of light, Jamie has an incredible place. The kitchen overlooks the living room and has a nice view of the city from the floor to ceiling windows that span a large portion of the apartment. Most of the condominiums in the city are on the small side, overpriced, and in bad neighborhoods. But Jamie really lucked out with this one.

Jamie leads me into the living room, where he has the gaming console setup along with remote controls, headsets, a laptop, and other gaming equipment. He plops down on the huge sectional couch and pats the seat next to him, motioning me to sit with an impish grin. Why does he have to be so handsome?

My hands are sweating from how nervous I am. And he hasn’t mentioned my dad once since we met. That’s what makes him so much more appealing.

I do as he instructs without a word and set my jacket and purse down next to me. “I guess I’m the first one here. You said eight o’clock, right?”

I thought I was going to be late.

He leans forward and lifts the remote from the oversized coffee table. “You’re the only one who’s coming tonight,” he says, clicking the buttons on the remote to turn on the huge flat screen hung on the wall in front of us. “Ben was going to come over and help us out, but his wife was having a fit about him missing another night with the kids. I told him we could handle it.”

“But I thought you have a team of people,” I mutter, doing my best to hold back the bile rising up from my throat.

“I do, but most of them worked all day and night. If I work them too hard, they will be useless to me. You can only do so much before you get burnt out.”

“What about you?” I ask, curious, settling into the cushion.

“What about me?” He props his elbow up onto the arm of the couch and glances at me. “I’m the creator of the game and in charge of the project. I have to keep at it until it’s perfect. I don’t get time off.”

“Oh, I guess I can relate to that. I work so much at the Wells Fargo Center that even when I’m supposed to be off, I end up going into the building or working from home.”

“Same here,” he admits, searching for the correct input on the TV. “I’m always on a deadline. Ever since my last promotion, my boss relies on me more than normal. And the company that hired us has been crawling up our asses about delivering the product ahead of schedule.”

“Can’t you tell them no? I’m sure your contract has a specific date on it.”

He shakes his head. “I wish it were that simple. They have a big tech conference they recently added to their calendar, and they want to show off the product. The game doesn’t even have a name yet. It’s nowhere near ready for the public. I was supposed to have one year. Now, I have three months.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re writing code for a game you haven’t given a name. You could be feeling…uninspired.”

He laughs. “That’s not a bad idea. But I hate to give any of the games a name because then I feel too attached to them, and when we hand them over to the client, it’s as if they’re stealing my game. At least when I do it this way, I don’t have any form of connection. I can just finish the testing and send the game to the customer to box up and market to their customers.”

I dig my left elbow into the couch cushion to support myself, holding his gaze. “That’s kind of sad in a way. Don’t you think?”

He looks away for a few seconds before he speaks, his tone softening. “The first game I ever designed was like Game of Thrones meets Call of Duty on crack. I was obsessed with the tech and played it for hours on end. I created The Fallen while I was still in college and sold a similar version of it to a developer. I made a huge mistake, though. They ended up renaming the game and selling millions of copies. All I’d gotten in return was enough money to put a down payment on this apartment. I could’ve bought the entire building with how much money they made on my game.”

My heart hurts for Jamie. I couldn’t even imagine working so hard on something, only to give it away for a company to turn a profit. “That’s awful.”

“It’s business,” he says, firmly. “I didn’t know any better back then. I did the same thing all the guys do when an investor from Silicon Valley offers them the chance to make some money. But when you have no idea the value of your product, it’s hard to put a number on your work. I was a kid, grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, and to me, what they’d given me was a ton of money.”

“It’s a shame. You must have been so bummed once you saw how many copies they sold of your game.”

“I was upset about it for a while until I got an offer from my company to come work for them. I turned them down at least ten times before I finally accepted. Charlie yelled at me for a week. She said I’d be an idiot not to take the job after what I’d just went through with the other company.”

“Smart lady,” I say. “I can only image how that conversation went with Coach.”

“I’m surprised you call her by her nickname,” he says. “Only players call her Coach. I don’t think I’ve ever used that name with Charlie.”

“That’s how she introduced herself to me. My dad calls her Coach, and so does his team.”

“Oh, right. Your dad is the general manager.” He drops the remote on the coffee table and picks up a controller, giving it to me before he clutches the other one in his hand.

I take it from him with a smile, because I love that he could care less about my father and his star power. “It must be weird to have a woman like Coach as your best friend.”

“It’s not so bad. Charlie is like my sister. But no one ever believed us until Alex had come along. Everyone would assume we were dating, and we never corrected them. Charlie liked it that way because that kept some of her clients from hitting on her.”

“I see it didn’t work with Alex,” I say, laughing. “I’m not all that surprised either. He asked me out years ago.”

Jamie scoots closer, the controller still in his hand, with a curious look on his face. “This is a story I need to hear. Please tell me you turned him down.”

I blow out a puff of air as I chuckle. “Of course, I did. Alex was such an arrogant asshole. He had the nerve to make some reference to my dad being a hall of famer, and how that must mean I know how to score.”

“Oh, my God.” Jamie bursts into laughter, having a mirroring effect on me. “Keep going. I have to tell Charlie about this. Alex will never live it down. He’s been harassing me about being the man-of-honor for weeks now.”

“Well,” I begin, “I guess you can say that Alex isn’t as smooth as he thinks. He was rude, arrogant, and a complete pig. My dad had introduced us at an event. I got bored, as I normally do at these sports fundraisers, and a few hours later, he found me outside. What a mess. Alex was completely hammered and spilled his drink on me. Then, he had the nerve to run that line on me, as if it would ever work.”

Jamie is laughing so hard he snorts. And it’s cute. “What did you say?” He chokes out.

“I told him to hit the road and to go find a puck bunny to hook up with. After knowing who my father is, I would’ve thought that would have deterred him. Not Alex. He was so damn persistent.”

“That sounds like Alex. He was the same way with Charlie. I wanted her to run, but she felt sorry for him because of his drinking and his father’s death and everything. She was able to relate to him on a different level.”

“You two are very close. Do you get wrapped up in her business a lot?”

“No, not at all. Just the occasional event here and there. That’s why I was there today. We coach little league basketball together, and I come to some of the sporting events with Charlie, but for the most part, I don’t get involved all that much with her work. I’m sure it’s a lot worse to have a dad who’s a famous hockey player.”

“It’s like being stuck in the shadow of someone else,” I confess. “I can never fully break away from his legacy.”

“But you chose to work for him. Is that not what you want?”

I shrug. “Yes and no. I wanted to be close to my dad. That’s a big reason why I took the job. I grew up around professional athletes, and I love the sport. But I don’t work directly for my dad or the Flyers. I handle all the event planning and public relations for the building. Like you, I have a team, so it’s not all that bad, but I almost never get a break.”

“Same here,” Jamie says, raising the controller in his hand. “Some people would call this fun, but they have no idea how much work it requires to make a game that people actually want to play.”

“Maybe we should get to it,” I say, finding his intense gaze too much to bear.

When Jamie looks at me, it’s as if he actually sees Regan, the woman who likes sports and video games. The person who takes her job seriously and wants to be seen as an individual. The woman who is trying desperately to break free from her father’s legacy. It’s the first time in years that anyone has seen me as anything other than the daughter of hockey royalty.

I am able to be myself around Jamie. So, it’s no surprise when we start playing the game that I find myself scooting closer to him on the couch. With our eyes trained on the game and players popping out from different vantage points on the screen, I try to focus on staying alive. But the heat that radiates between our bodies sets my skin on fire, making it hard to do anything but think about Jamie.

Of course, his team wins the first round. I smack him playfully in the arm. “No fair. You know all the tricks.”

He chuckles, quick to catch my arm before I’m able to pull back from him. Dropping the remote in his lap, he stares into my eyes and runs his thumb over my skin. “I won fair and square.”

There’s nothing fair about what he’s doing to me right now. What he’s doing between my legs. This is war.

Staring down at his fingers, I let out the breath of air I hadn’t realized I was holding. He still hasn’t let go of me. But I haven’t moved either. And I don’t want to. We share a moment, one that’s short-lived, because his cell phone rings so loudly that it snaps us out of the trance we were under.

After Jamie releases my hand, he reaches into his pocket, slides his finger across the screen, and holds the phone up to his ear to answer. It’s a work call. I can tell by the way he speaks to the person on the other end. A yes, sir and no, sir here and there gives away the fact. He rambles off details about the game and uses computer jargon that makes zero sense to me.

The entire time, I watch him and study his movements. I like how he uses his hands to emphasize certain words, the way his hair dark falls into his eyes when he jerks his head forward and nods. He keeps his hair short, though some of it rests on his forehead, and it’s the longer strands he has to push away from his face.

He glances up at me and smiles as if he’d known I couldn’t take my eyes off him. His fingers dance across the couch toward me, and I meet him halfway, lacing them between mine. We communicate without speaking, his focus on his boss and me at the same time. His touch causes every nerve ending in my body to come alive, responsive in ways I never thought possible.

With a sexy-as-fuck glaze in his eyes, he reaches up to run his fingers through my hair, the thick muscles in his arms flexing. I wish he’d get off the damn phone so I can kiss him. My mouth opens in response to him, hopefully relaying that he has the go-ahead once he hangs up. His conversation only lasts about five minutes. But it feels so much longer as he twirls my hair with a wicked grin.

“Sorry about that,” Jamie says, setting the phone on the table with a thud. “My boss works more than he sleeps, and he’s more anxious than me about hitting the delivery date.”

As his hand moves from my hair to my shoulder, the warmth from his body leeches into mine, causing my insides to heat, spreading like wildfire. I should say something. But I can’t speak when Jamie locks onto me. He has me right where I want him to be. Leaning forward, Jamie slides his hand down my arm, causing tiny bumps to dot my skin. My nipples harden from his close proximity, ready and waiting for him to make the first move.

If Jamie was an athlete and I had allowed him to get this far, we would’ve already had our tongues shoved down each other’s throats. The smart, nerdy types are more apprehensive, just like Jamie. I can see it in his eyes and in the way he takes his time.

Before I can say another word, he presses his lips to mine, sucking on my bottom lip for a second before his tongue slips inside my mouth, tangling with mine. Our kisses are sweet and passionate but also rough and hungry. My head spins from the passion behind each kiss, unable to get enough because Jamie is an amazing kisser.

After a few minutes of exploring each other’s mouths, my panties are dripping wet. Afraid my juices might slide down my thigh any moment, I close my legs. Luckily, Jamie has made his way to my neck, too busy to notice my reaction. He plants soft kisses along my collarbone, sliding my shirt down just enough to kiss my shoulder. Sucking in shallow breaths, I do my best to keep myself under control.

I want to rip his clothes off and force him to have his way with me. But I won’t. With the connection we share, I can’t risk ruining what we might have for a one-night stand. If I’m right about Jamie, he also has the same restraint. A guy like him would never see me as anything more than a booty call. Could he? I don’t want to take a chance. One night of pleasure is not worth the risk.

“Jamie,” I moan, choking out his name. “We should take a break before we do something we will regret.”

He peeks up at me for a second, before lifting his head so I can look into his eyes. “I wouldn’t regret anything with you.” His smile lights up his entire face, having a mirroring effect on me. “But I understand if you want to take things slow.”

“I’m not saying we need to go steady or anything like we’re in high school,” I say, joking, “but it would be nice if we at least had a date first.”

“I already tried that once before. You turned me down, remember?” I nod, a beat passing between us before he continues. “How come you said no when I asked you out?”

“Because of Coach. Seeing you with her had freaked me out. I just assumed that by association you played a sport or were part of that world.”

He chuckles to himself and points his finger at his chest. “Me? You thought I was an athlete. Nope, not even close.”

“Well, I know that now, but I had no idea back then.”

“I’m far from athlete material. I eat a cheesesteak at least twice a week and drink craft beers on the weekends. I could never hang with those guys with their training schedules and healthy eating. Hell, I could never even keep up with Charlie. She was always on some kind of diet or had a meal plan from her trainer, which forced me to suck it up and do it with her.”

“Coach actually forced you to follow her meal plans?”

“Let’s just say that she’d wear me down until I caved. Half the time, I would have to learn how to make whatever strange concoction she had to drink or eat that week. And the exercise…some of those workouts are painful.”

“Working out isn’t so bad,” I mutter.

“No, but I prefer the kind that works out my fingers if you catch my drift.”

I laugh, because at first, my mind drifts to a dirty place, wishing he would show me those skills until I realize he meant playing video games. “Very funny, Jameson. You know I really like that you’re different from the norm. It’s nice to finally meet someone who doesn’t play a sport or fanboy over my father. You have no idea what that’s like to meet someone you like and find out they’d only wanted to get close to me to meet their favorite player. It really sucks.”

“Aw, shucks,” he says, laughing and clearly saying it to make fun of me. “You mean I can’t meet your dad. That was part of my master plan.”

I smack him in the arm. “Shut it, Jameson, or I will have to shut it for you. Don’t be a smart ass.”

Pulling me into his arms, Jamie kisses my hair. “I thought that was what you liked about me.”

“No, I’m just using you for your nerd super powers. You have this young Robert Downey, Jr. thing going on, and I keep picturing you as Tony Stark.”

“I don’t know if I should be turned on that you know Iron Man’s real name, or offended that you’re only using me for my brain.”

“I’d like to use you for a lot more than your brain,” I say with laughter in my voice.

“Good, because I have plans for you this week. You’re having dinner with me.”

Once he releases his grip on me, I sit back enough that we are face-to-face. “Oh, am I now? Is that an order?”

“This time, I’m not taking no for an answer. I’m not letting you walk out the door until you agree to have dinner with me.”

“I suppose I can carve out some time for you in my schedule.” My face hurts from smiling so much, especially after he feigns shock by my words, holding his hand over his heart with his mouth wide open.

“You’re not making this easy on me, Regan.” I like the sound of my name when he says it in that deep, scratchy tone. “You have no idea how much I want to drag you into my bedroom right now.”

“Three meals,” I say, without further explanation.

“As in you want to go on three dates?”

At least he catches on fast.

“Uh-huh. Three dates and then you can drag me wherever you want and do whatever you want with me and to me. I want to get to know you before we take things further.”

“Sounds fair to me,” he says, pushing the hair off his forehead. “I can fit in breakfast, lunch, and dinner into my schedule tomorrow with dessert later that night.”

I shake my head, a smirk already on my lips. “And here I thought you were one of the nice guys.”

“Even the nice guys have some bad in them,” he says, his tone serious. “And I plan to show you. After the third date, of course.”

“I’m counting on it,” I say, excited by the promise of three dates with Jamie.

There’s also the promise of sex. If Jamie can make me wet just by touching my hand, I can only imagine what will happen after we’ve gotten to know each other.

“So, it’s a date,” he says, with a victorious smile. “How about we start with breakfast tomorrow. I have to go into the office, but we can make it work.”

“On a Sunday? Wow, you’re boss is a real slave driver, huh?”

He lets out an exaggerated sigh. “You have no idea. But it’s also me wanting to get this project finished so I can stop to take a breath. I’d like to play a video game I didn’t write when I’m not under a time crunch. Or do normal things like go to the movies.”

“I have a few ideas to take your mind off things,” I announce, surprised that I had the nerve to say it aloud.

“I’m sure you do. I may keep you here for the rest of the weekend and take you up on that offer.”

“Unfortunately for you, I also have to work tomorrow, and there’s no way I will have time to sneak away with everything we have going on. The Sixers are playing the Cavaliers. It will be a madhouse with LeBron in town.”

“We’ll figure it out. How about breakfast on Tuesday?”

To say I’m bummed that I have to wait a few more days to see Jamie again would be an understatement. I have trouble hiding my disappointment. But duty calls, and we both have demanding jobs. Maybe it will be easier to date someone who understands my hectic schedule.

“Breakfast sounds great,” I say, attempting not to sound too overly enthusiastic. Too bad I fail miserably, my voice coming off like a squeal of delight.

“Since we’re behaving ourselves until after our third date, and I have work to do, we should probably get back to the game. I’m not so sure I can pretend we were in beta mode if we don’t have any results to report back.” He hands me the controller with a serious expression, nodding for me to take it from him.

I clutch the controller in both hands, the sweat from my palms making it hard to keep a firm grip. “This time, I plan to kick your ass,” I say, confident. “I will school you at your own game, Jameson O’ Connor, programmer extraordinaire.”

The corner of his mouth turns up into a crooked smile. “We’ll see about that, Foxy. No one has ever beat me at my own game before. I’d like to see you try.”

I can’t help but laugh, turning my head to face him. “Did you just call me Foxy?”

He shrugs, nonchalant, and picks up his controller from the couch. “Yup. Do you have a problem with it?”

“No, not really. I’m curious as to why, though.”

“Because you’re the kind of girl that always has a card up her sleeve. You’re the trickster—like a fox.”

I rock to my left, just far enough to nudge him in his side with my elbow. “I am not. Take it back.”

“Yes, you are. Sorry, but you’re stuck with that name now. It’s not a bad quality. I like that about you.”

I dig my index finger into the crease in his cheek. “Okay, Dimples.”

He covers my hand with his, blushing. His response is so fucking cute that I want to kiss him again, except I wouldn’t stop him this time. I wouldn’t be able to keep myself from lunging at him and pinning him to the sofa. So, I keep my hormones in check by swatting his hand away from my face to create enough space that I can breathe without feeling as though he’s depriving me of oxygen.

“Shall we get back to me schooling you in your own game?” I ask, reeking of sarcasm.

Jamie moves his head toward me, our lips meeting halfway. While brief, the kiss stirs more desire inside me, followed by the realization that it has to end. At least for now. Once our lips separate, Jamie swipes a strand of hair behind my ear and says, “Prepare to get your ass kicked again, Foxy. Don’t think for one second I will let you win just because I like you.”

“Me either,” I spit back, challenging him. “Bring it.”

He sinks into the couch cushion and flashes a closed mouth smile in my direction. “It’s been brought. Now, hit the start button on your controller and stop playing like a girl.”

My mouth opens in surprise, enjoying the challenge. “I wasn’t playing like a girl.”

He shrugs, nonchalant, his eyes focused on the screen. “Call it what you want, but that was some sad gaming. I was just waiting until after you let me kiss you to tell you.”

“I hate you,” I say, not meaning a word.

“That’s a shame because I like you,” he counters. “I guess I have to find a way to change your mind.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “Don’t even think about letting me win.”

“I wouldn’t dare. If you’re going to beat me, you need to earn it.”

Settling into the cushion next to him, shoulder-to-shoulder, I lift the controller. “Hit start already.”

Without another word, only the smile on his lips, Jamie walks me through picking our teams, weapons, and battlefields, even though I still remember how to do it from last time. But it’s cute that he wants to teach me because this isn’t just a game to him. It’s like bringing me to his work, allowing me inside his brain. And with a guy like Jamie, that means a lot more than getting into his pants.