“Are we sure the new guy is not your new boo?” Eugene found me in the lobby as I took a little break before my next round.

“Milo?” Mildly horrified, I looked up from my phone. I had it out because I’d been texting with Milo, who had gone to retrieve some food. This was a smaller convention/conference center and the meal options inside the complex were overpriced and limited, so I was especially grateful for Milo’s offer to get lunch. But boyfriend? Absolutely not, and that little shiver that raced up my back could go the hell away.

“Yeah!” Eugene laughed, his voice as perpetually upbeat as ever. I liked him and considered him a gaming friend, but he did have an elevated opinion of his own sense of humor. “Tall, dark, and clueless. Just how you usually like them, right?”

“I don’t have a type,” I lied. If my crushes and sporadic dates had tended toward jocks, well, that was merely coincidence. And probably something I should work on changing. I knew better, even if my body didn’t. Not a type and absolutely nothing to do with Milo.

“Yeah, you do.” Eugene had been around enough not to buy my bluster.

“Well, so do you.” I raised my eyebrows because the blond, bubbly friends he’d brought along were both totally his type, to the point that I wasn’t entirely sure which was the current girlfriend. Both wasn’t outside the realm of possibility either.

“Guilty.” Shrugging, Eugene smiled slyly as he leaned against the wall. “And you’re changing the subject.”

“No, I’m not. And yeah, I’m very sure.” Tired of standing, I took a seat on the floor, hoping that Eugene might take a hint and move along or at least drop this topic, but instead he flopped down next to me.

“He’s watched all your matches.”

No way was I explaining our arrangement, so I merely stretched, rolling my tight back muscles. “He’s probably bored.”

“Nah. He wants you.” Eugene nodded like a guy who knew his way around attraction. Which he did, but he was dead wrong here. “He watches you like you’re a slot machine about to come up cherries.”

Well, that metaphor actually wasn’t inaccurate as Milo was super invested in me paying out. And no way was there anything else in his gaze, his bizarre comment about me being cute notwithstanding. Distracted, I’d almost lost my first match until I’d decided that Milo meant cute in a dismissive way, like I was still a kid or maybe a pet dog, and not cute.

“You really need to stop going to Atlantic City.” I knew that suggestion wouldn’t go over well. In addition to playing Odyssey for fun, Eugene was something of a card shark with a poker obsession.

“Spending money. It comes in handy.”