Page 224 of A Taste of Vanilla

“Good as in geologically acceptable?”

He smirks. “Good.”

His eyes flicker with heat for only a second. Just enough for me to understand the second word he wants to add.

Marley presses both hands over her mouth, and I glare at her.

Oliver doesn’t bother hiding his annoyance. “Are we playing this game, or are we watching these two flirt over mountains?”Warren looks up innocently. “I’m not flirting.”

Oliver stares at him.

Lisa smiles. “You kind of are.”

Warren looks at me, and I cough, deeply grateful that the lighting is dim because my face is surely bright red.

“We’re playing. This is just background.”

“This isn’t background,” Dev says. “This is world building.”

“Thank you, cape man.”

He bows.

I pass out character sheets before Warren can ask another question that makes me feel like he’s filling the spot in my heart that lies empty.

Marley plays a half-elf rogue; Dev plays a bard; Lisa plays a human paladin named Sister Mara who carries a sword, a ledger, and a very low tolerance for nonsense.

Oliver refuses to make a character. “I’m hosting,” he says.

I point at him. “You’re the tavern keeper.”

He freezes. “I’m what?”

“The tavern keeper.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I own a tavern in real life.”

“You own a bar.”

“Close enough.”

Dev gasps. “Oliver, your character can be grumpy but secretly helpful.”

Oliver’s glare could kill a weaker man.

Dev adjusts his cape. “Or not so secretly.”

Warren looks at the empty character sheet in front of him.

“You don’t have to play,” I assure him.

His eyes find mine.

“I wasn’t going to force you.”