Page 5 of Rogue Starfighter

I took another fry and said nothing.

“Oh my God,” Gina whispered. “She’s not denying it.”

“I’m eating.”

“She’s in love with a sim,” Alisha announced.

“I am not in love with Vesh.” Oh, hell. I so was. But who could blame me?

“You used his name,” Gina said.

“Because that’s his name.”

“He's not real. He's a sim.”

"So is Corvan. And Torek. Are you telling me you two aren't in love with your game boyfriends?"

"Oh, no. I'm totally in love with Corvan. He's ruined dating for me." Gina giggled. “Like Alisha isn't obsessed with Torek,”

Torek was Alisha’s covert-operations partner. Assassin. Spy. Master thief. The perfect alien warrior, created specifically for a woman who counted cards for fun.

“Torek is not an obsession,” Alisha said. “He is a well-developed appreciation for dangerous men in tight pants.”

“That’s an obsession," I insisted.

“Corvan could crush both your puny men with one hand,” Gina said.

“Corvan is compensating,” I replied.

Gina gasped. “He is not. Have you seen the size of the bulge in his pants?”

I laughed. The last of the tension from work slipped out of my shoulders. This was why I played every Wednesday, no matter how tired I was. The missions were fun. Flying was incredible. But Gina and Alisha were the reason I logged in. Mostly.

In reality, I had feelings for an online character in a game I'd been playing for over a year. And so did my friends. One of the things that made this game so popular was every single person created their own unique game companion. I selected every detail about Vesh, from his clothing to his eye color, his skill set and specialty. Scout. Sounded dangerous. And fun. So much fun.

"Corvan is hot," Gina sighed.

"Not as hot as Torek," Alisha sound bored, like she was reading a weather report.

"You're both crazy."

"We know," Gina laughed again. "We are all stupid in love with guys that don't exist."

Well, shit. They weren't even trying to deny it. Hell, I couldn't deny I had real feelings for a alien guy who wasn't real. Sad, but true. “I hate both of you.”

“No, you don’t,” they replied together.

They were right. We had been friends for years. Gina and I met in eighth grade after she punched a boy who made a habit of snapping our bra straps in science class. I held her earrings while she did it. Loyalty like that lasted.

We met Alisha at a Comic Con five years ago while waiting in line to have our Star Trek merchandise signed. Three hours in line, and several celebratory margaritas later, we had acquired another best friend. They knew everything about me.

Including the pathetic fact that I had not gone on a real date since creating Lieutenant Vesh, Elite Starfighter Scout from the planet Velerion.

The game loaded on the center monitor. Then Vesh appeared and my nipples went hard beneath my hoodie. Traitors. Both of them.

I had created him when I started the game, choosing from what seemed like thousands of options. Tall. Lean, but muscular. Dark hair. Green eyes. A jaw that could have been used to demonstrate geometric perfection. And a very impressive bulge beneath his fitted uniform pants. The developers had been thorough.

Vesh stood beside our scout ship, the Wraith, dressed in matte-black armor with his hands clasped behind his back. He looked dangerous. Impatient. Completely incapable of discussing his feelings. Apparently, I had a type.