tips his head, and says, “Sweet.”
Chapter 45 – Underground Gaming V 2.0
Savi calls, and of course I tell her about Colin.
“How could I play ping pong a few times a week with a guy for two years and never notice him?” I lament.
She chuckles before giving me advice, “You need to calm down or you’ll be the lamest date ever.”
Covering my eyes I wonder out loud, “I know this guy really well. Why am I being like this?”
***
Colin IM’s me at work. “Do you want to eat something before gaming?”
Realizing I don’t want this communication on our work server, I write down my phone number along with a note—let’s use our phones instead of work systems for personal communication—and head over to where he sits. I’ve never even been over to this end of the building before. He’s sitting at his desk surrounded by monitors. I stand there for a couple of seconds before he notices me. Everyone in his group is now looking at me.
I smile, hand him my note, give him a chance to read it, and then say, “Sorry, I can’t make ping pong this afternoon.” He smirks then nods.
I get about ten paces down the hall when he calls after me, “You know you could have sent me an IM.”
I wave back at him as I continue to my desk. I’m glad my voice didn’t crack or my face didn’t give away how sexually charged I feel being near him.
I’m back working for about five minutes when my phone buzzes. It’s from an unknown number: I don’t think we’re playing each other today.
With a secret smile I text back: Then I guess you still get to play.
He texts me again: Dinner before games?
Didn’t I have lots of evenings like this with David? Then I reflect, that was the best part of our relationship. I’m hoping for more than round two of the same with Colin. I’m also hoping that David doesn’t choose Saturday night to show back up at underground gaming.
***
Changing my clothes five times does nothing to settle my nerves. It’s also rather futile since at the end, all I have is a pile of clothes that need to be folded and I don’t look any different.
Colin shows up at my door on time. He looks really good in jeans and a burning man T-shirt. He gives me one of his nice smiles, the energy between us is palpable. Was it only last weekend we ran into each other at the beach? Was it really only ten days ago I thought of him as another guy at work?
My body buzzes with adrenaline as I uncomfortably invite him in while I grab my purse. After locking up, we walk down to his car together and our hands brush against each other. The tingle goes right up my shoulder and down to my core. We both look at each other; I know he felt it too.
I’m usually casual with Colin, mostly we joke around or trash talk as we try to psych each other out. Tonight we’re both polite and nervous. He never said date; he only asked me if I wanted to go to the underground with him. Is this a date?
As I get in his car I realize I never even checked Twitter to find out where tonight’s games are being hosted. He starts driving down El Camino, finally pulling into Amber Indian Restaurant.
As he parks he gives me a half smile, “I hope you eat Indian.”
I chuckle and answer, “Yeah, a little.”
The restaurant is popular and crowded; Colin gives his name to the hostess. He must have thought about where to go since he made a reservation. The menu has a wide variety of Indian foods.
Colin asks me, “Do you want to share an appetizer? How about Aleppy Fried Prawns?”
Slowly shaking my head I say, “How about the Vegetable Samosa?”
He narrows his eyes, finally saying, “Vegetarian?”
I slowly nod my head.
“Your family’s from the South?”
I feel surprised, most Americans can barely find India on a map, let alone be able to identify southern and northern cuisine.
“Are you familiar with Indian food?”
Colin gets a funny smile, “Yeah, some, mostly northern food.”
“What, did you have an Indian roommate?” I question.
He chuckles again and nods his head. “Yeah, you definitely could say that.”
Feeling confused, I finally ask, “What’s the joke? I know I’m missing something.”
Our server comes over and we each order a Kingfisher Beer, some naan, and the vegetable samosa.
When she leaves I say, “Are you going