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“Riley, how does it feel to know that Titan Games is poised to double its revenues in the next year thanks to the launch of Omega?”

“Titan Entertainment,” I corrected. “We’re not just about games anymore.”

“Right. Now it’s movies, too. What’s next?”

“Music. Pastries. Sex toys. Who knows.”

The reporter’s grin flashed as she made a note on her sheet.

“I’m giving you the inside track,” I insisted.

“Because you won’t give me the real inside track.” She leaned in. “What is it? Virtual reality? I heard a rumor that’s the next type of gameplay. Will it be available on the Cobalt platform? Apparently the Titan suite of games is the most popular on the entire site. Membership numbers are exploding.”

“Glad we could help out our friends at Cobalt. It’s a team effort.”

In some ways, that deal was my legacy. I’d handed off most of the contracting responsibilities to our new administrative officer. While I was expanding our relationships with Hollywood, Max could focus on his next big game project.

“Am I interrupting?” Sam pulled up next to the booth at LIVE.

“Not even.” I reached to tug her into the booth. “My girlfriend, Sam,” I volunteered. “She’s an art professor,” I added.

Sam rolled her eyes. “Hardly.”

Since the show at LIVE she’d expanded her website to include both her art styles. Epic had also booked her to do some art for a new superhero film, slated for release a year after Phoenix.

Clayton, the guy who’d snapped her up for an art show at his Boston gallery after seeing her work at the restaurant, had balked when he’d learned about Sam’s commercial work.

But when she’d told him he needed to make a decision about the show because she had a line of job offers from Hollywood, he’d fallen in line.

“Art, huh? You ever do any work with Titan?” the reporter asked.

“We borrowed her for a few weeks. But she wouldn’t let us keep her. She’s too talented to stay tied down.”

“I’m emotionally tied down,” Sam tossed back.

“Aww. That’s cute.” My hand streaked under the edge of her shirt—under the table where no one could see—and my thumb stroked her skin.

Her eyes brightened, even ask she kicked me under the table. “We are working on a comic book together. Did he tell you that part?”

I stared at her as the reporter asked, “Really? Is this a new project?”

Sam winked at me, and my heart expanded in my chest. “It’s had about twelve years of delays,” Sam explained, “but better late than never.”

Truer words.

“So,” the reporter started, and I tore my attention away from Sam long enough to meet her gaze. “Any last words for fans waiting for the new movie?”

There were a few tricks we had up our sleeves, but David would kill me—or sue me—if I let them out.

“It’s going to be a long ten months. But fans of the franchise are going to love it.” I thanked the reporter and Sam and I shifted out of the booth.

“Thanks for picking me up at work.”

“LIVE isn’t your work,” she teased.

“But I can’t let reporters into Titan HQ.”

“It’s not a secret fort.”

“It’s basically a secret fort,” I insisted, following Sam out to my Tesla.

The car was a step down from the Bentley, but it was still freaking cool. The thing didn’t make a sound and you pretty much saved the planet every time you put it in gear.

Plus, it meant I could afford to support those scholarships at MassArt, which Sam and I had decided to make together using the auction proceeds in Sam’s mom’s name.

“How’d you like your afternoon with Payton?” I asked as we slid inside.

“It was great. We finger painted with Tristan. Or, technically I put water-based paint on his finger and let him smear it on his tray.”

“You let him paint? You don’t let me paint.”

“That’s because you’d probably just strip off my clothes and paint all over me, and…” her voice trailed off as she reached for her seatbelt.

“Not such a bad idea after all, is it?” I started the car and pulled out onto the road. “I don’t suppose you know what day it is.”

“What day?”

“It’s our six month anniversary.”

Her mouth went round. “Six months since we started dating? Wait, are we dating?”

“I know I’m a good boyfriend. But you are truly a terrible girlfriend.” I switched off the air conditioning, letting the summer breeze blow through the open window.

“I did warn you,” she tossed back.

“We’ll work on it.”

“Wait. If you were being a really good boyfriend, wouldn’t you count from the time we met?”

“In which case it would be our… twelve-and-a-half-year anniversary?” She laughed. “But we weren’t dating then.”

“Maybe not. But I loved you then. So that’s got to count for something.”

I glanced over to see Sam grinning.

Her shorts left most of her long legs bare. Her T-shirt fell off one shoulder. She looked like some siren sent to tempt weak travelers into selling their souls or their possessions.

I wanted to give her everything.

Sam had moved in with me three months ago, and I couldn’t have imagined how good it felt to have her around all the time.

I cleared my throat. “If it’s our twelve-and-a-half-year anniversary, I’m going to have to step up. All I had for you was flowers.”

“You better. I’m talking jewelry. Exotic pets. Maybe a small Caribbean island.”

Partway to our house, I detoured to a park by the river and turned off the car.

No other cars were in sight. A single jogger made their way past in the distance, but not close enough to see us.

“What are we doing here?”

“I did have something for you.” I reached into the glove box and produced a folded sheet of paper.

“What is it?” she asked, eyes wide.

“See for yourself.”

I shifted my seat back, my heart thumping as she opened it.

“It’s a comic.”

“Just a few panes.” I tried not to sound nervous as I watched her read it, her lips curving in a half-smile.

“I love it,” she said, emotion filling her voice.

“I didn’t know if we were ever going to get a chance to do one together. So I made it myself.” I paused, watching her gaze move over the page again. “I was fucking miserable without you in LA, you know. I actually started thinking I wished you’d tattooed me after all.”

Her gaze lifted to mine, love and mischief were scrawled on every inch of her face. “I still can.”

“It’s always good to save something for thirteenth anniversaries,” I reasoned, reaching over to pull her on top of me.

My fingers stroked up under her shorts and I filled my hands with her ass.

“How’s this compare to jewelry? Pets? The island?”

“It’ll do,” she whispered, squirming in my lap.

When I slipped a finger past her panties and into her wet heat, she moaned.

“I remember the first time I saw you in shorts like these. I’d wonder what it would be like to touch you. It was all very sweet. Mostly sweet,” I amended. “I’m not sweet anymore.”

“You can be when you want to be.”

“I don’t want to be,” I whispered in her ear.