I stare intensely at the screen, a bead of sweat tracing the line of my face. I can't stop to wipe it away. I can barely blink to alleviate the strain I'm putting my eyes under. I can't move from this spot, my hands clenched around the controller, back hunched in the worst posture possible.

There's too much at stake.

Wait. Sorry. There's too much steak. Too much steak that needs to be made to satisfy this demonic kitchen overlord who's making us cook in the middle of an honest-to-God volcano.

"I need those onions chopped yesterday," I call out, my gaze flicking to the picture of very unchopped onions just sitting there, not being sliced.

"Calm your tits, I'm still chopping garlic," Rosa snaps back.

Dirty plates are piling up, virtual steaks are about to catch fire, and everything's turning to complete and utter chaos before my eyes.

The world of Overcooked is cruel and unforgiving. Also it makes me--and everyone else--yell at people about not chopping vegetables fast enough.

After this is over we'll go back to being the best of friends, but right now, Rosa, Zed, Jax, and I might as well be enemies. Even though we're on the same team.

And that would be bad enough without the fact that Finn--the man I love who's also my current nemesis--is sitting nearby with his own team of three other people, shouting orders and getting upset about dirty dishes.

"Oh my God, does anyone ever clean a plate?!" he exclaims, and I bite back a smirk.

Earlier in the day, we decided it would be a great idea to spend our time off organizing a mini-tournament of our own. We broke into two teams and started playing a bunch of games head to head. While tempers did get a little high, nothing has made everyone as crazy as this silly game about cooking.

"Oh, fuck, can somebody get that steak?" Zed calls, and I hustle my little avatar over to put out the fire--literally.

"I told you it was going to catch fire," Rosa says.

"Are those onions done yet?" I ask, knowing damn well they aren't.

"Oh, my fucking God." She groans and--because she can--punches me in the arm.

This madness continues until we inevitably lose the round, not delivering nearly enough food to satisfy our dark master or whatever. On the plus side, Finn's team fails just as spectacularly.

"In your face, losers," Jax says.

"We're losers too, idiot," Rosa mutters, though there's a smile on her lips.

"I need a drink," Finn announces, tossing his controller onto the couch. "Anybody want anything?"

A few of the guys are quick to ask for beers, so Finn amends his offer.

"Anybody want anything we actually have?"

The orders change to sodas and sparkling waters, and I hop up from the couch, leaving my team to cross enemy lines. "I'll give you a hand."

Finn catches my eye, a glint in his. He and I both know that "I'll give you a hand" is sloppy code for "let's make out in the kitchen to blow off some steam." It'd be code for "drop your pants and pull out your dick," but even I'm not that bold.

Walking the length of the room, I don't even try to hide my traitorous nature. I thread my fingers into the belt loops of his jeans and tug him to me, kissing him while I've still got a massive grin plastered on my face.

"Hey!" Rosa calls in mock outrage. "No fraternizing with the enemy, Winthrop."

"Sorry, sorry." I do my best to look ashamed, and that seems to appease the not-really-mad masses. Not a moment later, I wink at Finn and say, "Let's get out of here so we can fraternize in private."

A pillow flies at my back, this time from Zed. He lets out a "boooo" and Finn and I both laugh. We do, of course, immediately go back to fraternizing once we leave the room.

Even when we're on opposing teams, it's impossible for us to keep our hands off each other.

We do manage to make it to the kitchen, though, and Finn pulls open the fridge door, handing me a bunch of drinks.

"This was a great idea," he says. "I mean, our teammates want to strangle each other over virtual steak, but other than that."

I flash him a grin and steal another kiss. "They'll get over it. But you'd better not be trying to distract me into forgetting about tonight."

Finn gasps, loudly and dramatically. "I would never."

Tonight Finn and I are supposed to go on our first official date. It's ass-backwards and a long time coming, considering everything else we've done. But then nothing about our relationship has been conventional, and it took a lot of persuading for me to get him to agree to take a night just for himself. He's getting better at it, but it's still a work in progress.

Work I plan to make a lot more progress on tonight.

"I'm looking forward to it," he says with a smile, giving up on teasing me. When I arch a brow at him, he laughs. "Seriously."

"You're not going to sit there and wonder what else you should be doing the whole time?"

"Mm, I don't know..." he closes the fridge door and brushes past me, deliberately bumping me with his hip. "Guess you'll just have to find a way to keep me busy."

This guy. I swear. If we weren't in the middle of a very serious tournament, I'd take him upstairs and "keep him busy" right now.

Instead I just say, "Challenge accepted," and follow him back into the rec room.

That'll come later. For now, I have a game to lose with people I know will still love me afterward.

Even if I am technically the reason the steak caught on fire.