Page 4 of The Highland Game
She and I chat about all sorts: anime, fantasy books, music, biscuits (she claims custard creams are the best, which is absolute madness, of course). In some ways I know a lot about Sass—what she likes, what she doesn’t—but when it comes to the important stuff, I’m clueless. I mean, I’m certain she’s Scottish, like me, but I’ve no idea what town or city she lives in. And I don’t even know her real name. As for her voice? Never heard it. We exclusively communicate via text chat when we play together.
“Oi, Jamie! When you’re done googly-eyeing your computer, a couple more pints, please.”
I glance up to see that one of the two men—Roddy—has walked over and placed a couple of empty glasses down on the bar. So wrapped up was I in my digital world, I didn’t even notice him approaching.
“Coming right up.” I grab a glass, tip it under the tap, and let the golden liquid flow. “This should help you and Hugh tolerate each other for another hour or so.”
Roddy shakes his head. “Jamie, it’s a good thing we come here for the peace and quiet and not your patter. Though I suppose it’s marginally better than your pouring skills.”
“Ouch!” Grinning, I pass him the first pint then pour the second. “And here was me thinking it was my sparkling wit that brings you two old buggers here every Monday.”
“Absolutely not!” Hugh calls from the table. “I’ve seen graveyards with a better atmosphere than this place. Still, at least we can hear ourselves think here. The same can’t be said for the Pheasant on quiz night.”
The Pheasant is the pub just down the road, and Hugh’s right: it’s no doubt as busy right now as the snug is quiet.
Roddy heads back to his table with the drinks, and I return my attention to my laptop screen. A new message has come in from Sass.
SassyLassie
Cat got your tongue? Too scared to reply?
LochNLoad
I can’t tell if you’re pulling my leg or if you’re being serious.
SassyLassie
Oh, I’m being dead serious. Spill your dirty little secret, and the claymore is yours. Unless you’re too chicken, of course.
I tap my fingers against the edge of the bar, weighing my options. Sass and I have never veered into this kind of territory before. Still, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued. And I really want that bloody sword.
Sod it.
A mischievous smile tugging at my lips, I lean forward, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Here goes nothing.
CHAPTER TWO
MAISIE
SassyLassie
Well? I’m waiting. Or should I just hang on to this claymore?
I bite my lip, the irony of my digital dare not escaping me. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve had to fend off creepy male gamers when they’ve initiated completely inappropriate chats with me. And yet here I am asking Lochie to open up about his sexual appetites.
Maybe I’m crossing a line in our virtual friendship, but I’ve been playing with Lochie for a few months now, and I reckon he’s not the type to take offence easily. Either he’ll answer my question or he won’t. Whatever happens, I’ll give him the sword—I’ve no use for it, and besides, he and I are a team. That being said, if I can have a bit of fun with him first, all the better.
LochNLoad
Well . . . since you’re twisting my arm, I’m sort of interested in power dynamics. Being at someone’s mercy or having them at mine . . . that’s always a fun game to play.
A burst of laughter escapes me, echoing off the walls of my empty flat. “Lochie, you dirty wee scamp!” I say out loud, amused by his candid admission and also oddly pleased that he actually opened up to me.
Nudging my finished dinner plate to the side, I pull my laptop closer and tap out a reply.
SassyLassie
Oh, spicy! I wouldn’t have guessed that about you, Mr Muscles.
