Alphahole (Alphahole Roommates 1)

Laughs. I glare. My eyes are laser guns, trying to melt him.

“Game one is complete. Everyone, back to the bar!” Melissa calls out on a portable PA mic.

We wind through the labyrinth, finding our way out, and there’s a huge spread of food waiting for us with the Rocky Theme Song being piped through the place. There’s a long table groaning with food: trays of pasta, wings, slide

rs, battered fried vegetables. And there are jugs of wine and Coke and beer at the tables and on the bar. And a huge cake with Congratulations Carmichael Consulting Inc. on a Fantastic Year End!

And I am ravenous. The adrenalin is high. There was a lot of running, ducking, and pivoting.

I’m not the only ravenous one. We’re all descending on the food like starving wolves on a felled fresh lamb.

The food is delicious. So is the wine. People are laughing and talking about hits they took or dished out and I decide that laser tag is the freaking bomb!

Alice starts handing out brand new nice and thick black CC hoodies to the men, pink ones to the girls.

“And your round one results, folks,” Melissa calls out and one of the big screens that was playing a baseball game switches to a big scorecard, divided by team, with scores against us and lists of who we shot and how many times. The numbers are all over the board. Except for my numbers.

Oh no.

My numbers are telling. Wildly telling.

And it’s obvious. I shot someone named Jen, who I don’t even know yet, and I shot Aiden. Many times. I don’t know how many times, but a quick scan of the screen and Aiden has the most hits and it says that they came mostly from me. I have the highest number of points for one person. I shot him a lot. A lot a lot. It’s glaringly obvious that I was literally gunning for him.

My eyes dart to him. He’s at the bar, drinking beer, talking to Austin, who’s eating a chicken wing. Aiden’s eyes scan the board and then they scan the room and find me.

And when he sees me, he bursts into laughing. His body is shaking hard as he’s laughing at me. He shakes his head and winks at me. Winks.

I am scarlet red. And angry. Because Aiden Carmichael in an unguarded moment of laughter? Every eye in the room can’t help but be on him, as he just looks like Mr. Perfect.

The blue team won that round, though, despite my mad gun skills, and every one of them gets a $100 Amex gift card.

Melissa tells us we’ll have round two in ten more minutes. This time, once you’re shot you’re down and out. You have to surrender your weapon and wait until there’s one man or woman standing. Winner gets a prize.

Everyone is laughing, eating, joking.

A few minutes later, I’m lifting a chicken wing and putting it to my mouth.

Aiden is suddenly in my space, holding out a red bottle of Tabasco sauce.

“Hot Sauce?” he offers.

I shake my head. I’m glaring with hate.

“First, I donate my gift card to you. VPs don’t keep prizes. You get this, because you had the most points that game.” He hands me the card and then he gets loud. “Everyone, Sniper Carly in marketing gets my blue team win for the most points against a single person.”

Everyone claps.

“It’s also a peace offering,” he says, in a whisper.

My eyes go round.

He leans against the bar I’m standing at. “I can’t share details, but I was given misinformation that you were trying to screw me over. I screwed back. And then I found out the tip that came to me was wrong.”

I stare at him. I am lost for words.

Ally leans over and refills my wine glass from the big jug while in mid-conversation with Bill from IT.

I give her a quick smile and my eyes go back to Aiden.