Page 76 of Our Final Game

“Of course you’d ask something like that.” I roll my eyes before looking down at the menu as if I need it. I get the same thing every time.

“I mean, I still think I must be dreaming or something,” he snickers.

“Dreaming … you dream about me?”

I hope he does.

We lock eyes for a minute, the air around us shifting. I notice Tyson swallow hard. “Not at all,” he mutters, checking the menu for himself.

“Right…”

When the waitress comes back around, we both put in our order. Tyson asked me to get whatever I recommend. After she’s gone, it’s quite awkward. And I’ve only now just realized how weird this could be without Tyson having his memories. His rival, who usually can’t stand to be in the same room with him for longer than ten minutes, suddenly asks for a date and wants to roll around in his clothes afterward, hopefully.

“I should’ve offered to come get you, by the way, sorry about that. I know you don’t do well with water and all,” Tyson chuckles.

I don’t do well with water?

“Why would you say that?” I swallow, my brows pinched.

“Oh, um, I don’t know, must have seen somewhere. You can’t swim?” He looks confused by his own statement.

“Yeah … I can’t.”

So, he might remember, but in pieces, and I’m not going insane. Something has gone wrong with Tyson’s memory after getting out of the game. There’s no way he could know I can’t swim. I’ve never revealed that anywhere, in any interviews or any publications. It’s not even in my fun facts on my gamer profile. There’s only one way he would know that.

“I’ve got you guys’ food right here,” the waitress says, approaching us with plates and placing them down in front of us.

“Thanks,” Tyson says.

“Let me know if you need anything else.”

I pick at my food as Tyson begins to eat, wondering what else he might remember or if there’s a way I can get him to recollect.

“So, how’s work been?” I murmur.

“Hm, it’s been okay. My manager that was leading our current project quit out of the blue though. A little strange, I guess.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, we’ve been working on this game, Understory. But they scrapped it since it was his project.”

I try to stifle my gasp at the mention of the game.

“Did you like the game?”

“Sure, it was pretty fun. Had a lot of potential,” Tyson says, pinching his brows. “Kinda became a part of my night routine … I miss it.”

“You miss it…” I mumble, looking up at him through my lashes as he stares down at his food.

* * *

Tyson cuts the engine of his car, and we both get out before heading toward the elevator of our building. “I’ll walk you up,” he says.

“Thanks.”

I still have his jacket around me when we make it to the door of my unit. Turning to him, I’m hoping he doesn’t ask me to give it back, and I can just pretend I simply forgot to hand it to him.

“Though this was very odd of you, it was nice. Finally not being a sore loser.” Tyson smiles down at me.