Page 18 of The Roommate Problem
“No, it’s brinner,” she pointed out. “The best meal of the day.”
Then, with all the yummy cheeseburgers, sandwiches, omelets, even chicken fried steak, on the menu, August had ordered a salad. And not even an interesting one with candied pecans or goat cheese. A plain old boring garden salad with grilled chicken and balsamic dressing.
After dinner, she decided to take him to 1Up, the best barcade in the city. They had something for everyone, giant Jenga, skeeball, pinball, and all the old school arcade games. Plus, drinks! Who could hate that?
August, apparently, as she discovered fifteen minutes later when they were inside, drinks in hand. He glanced around the noisy room, scowl firmly in place just like it had been since the moment they left the apartment.
“How do you like your beer?” She had to raise her voice slightly to be heard above the din of electronic game notifications and people’s chatter. She’d picked out a stout from a local brewery for him to try.
August shrugged. “Beer is beer.”
Oh, good grief. Like pulling teeth with this guy. She took a deep chug of her own beer. An amber wheat from the same brewery as his stout. She was determined to get August to have fun tonight, even if it killed her. And with his uncooperative attitude, it just might. How could this grouch be related to sweet, funny, wonderful Agatha? It boggled the mind.
She pasted on the brightest smile in her arsenal and leaned in closer so she wouldn’t have to shout. “So, what’s your poison? Tetris? Dig Dug? Donkey Kong?”
He shook his head. “I’m not much of a video gamer—”
“Mo?”
Mo turned to see a familiar face. She placed her drink down on the small table they stood at and threw her arms around the handsome, dark-haired, brown-eyed firefighter’s neck. “Parker! What are you doing here?”
He indicated the patio with a nod. “Epic Jenga competition with the crew.”
She craned her neck, trying to see through the crowded room to spot the rest of the Station 42 firefighting crew outside. She thought she spotted Ward, Turner and his husband, and that gorgeous curly dark hair could belong to no one other than Díaz, the station’s resident woman and also its resident badass.
“Fun! Who’s winning?”
“Díaz, of course.” He chuckled.
She laughed along with him.
“You wanna come play next round?” His gaze fell to her side. “Your date can come, too.”
“Oh, he’s not my date,” she said quickly. “This is my new roommate, August Porter. August, this is Parker Kincaid. He works with my best friend Pru’s husband at fire station 42.”
The two men shook hands, Parker all smiles, August…well, being August.
“You play?”
August shook his head. “Not really my thing.”
“Nothing is your thing,” she said under her breath, but judging by the raised eyebrow he sent her way, he heard it.
“That’s cool.” Parker turned his attention back to her. “You coming to pub quiz this week?”
Oooooh, pub quiz. She loved pub quiz. Maybe she could convince August to go. He might not like arcade games, but who didn’t love trivia and booze?
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Awesome, see ya there.” He leaned down to give her a hug.
“Go kick Díaz’s ass,” she said, whispering in his ear. “But don’t tell her I said that.”
Parker laughed as he walked away. She turned to see a pondering suspicion in August’s eyes.
“You two used to date?”
Blinking in shock, she let a small puff of laughter burst out of her. Parker was sexy, sweet, and loaded, but Mo never really felt any zing of attraction around the guy. They were better as friends. “No. Why would you think that?” And why would he care?
