Conventionally Yours (True Colors 1)

“When?” I blinked at him. Maybe I truly was overthinking things and it really was this simple and easy.

“Okay, if, but I’m optimistic.” His hand was already making a beeline for my fly, lips skating across my cheekbone. “And we’re alone now, finally, so we can say all the words—and do them too. Whatever we want, right?”

“Uh-huh.” I made a strangled sound as his hand reached his objective. His grin, wide and wonderful, was such that I couldn’t deny him anything, and when he kissed me, I ceased thinking altogether. Everything else, including all that loomed the next day, could wait. Him. Me. Us. It was exactly that simple after all.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Conrad

I woke to a racing heart. Double alarms blaring. Even my body knew what day it was. I pulled on the gray T-shirt Arthur had provided advertising his store. God, Gracehaven seemed a million miles and that many years away, a distant memory given everything that had happened. Next came my jeans and lucky socks—goofy superhero-themed ones that my sister had gotten me a couple of years prior. My poor battered kicks were by the door. If I won, they were first on the list to be replaced.

If I won. When. When I won. I had to think positively. No room for doubts. The scents of coffee and sweet oatmeal mingled as Alden bustled around, scrounging us breakfast from supplies we’d picked up at a convenience store the day before. We didn’t want to fight the crowds and the high prices before we had to. As I buckled my belt, it felt like we were preparing for battle, and in a way we were. Needing a distraction, I grabbed the box of card packs that we’d received from the cosplaying wizard store owner in Ohio. We’d been rather…occupied since then and never got around to opening them up.

But now I had a few minutes, so I sat in the center of the other bed, the one that was still made—other than our stuffed goat mascot that I’d tucked under the covers to make Alden laugh the night before—and divided the six packs into three for me and three for Alden.

“Come over here and crack some packs with me,” I ordered, pointing to the spot across from me.

He frowned midsip of coffee. “My decks are pretty set. I’m not sure I need to open cards.”

“For luck. This is one of my favorite things. Like birthday presents. All shiny and wrapped, and you never know what you’re getting. Come on. Indulge me.”

“You’re easy to please.” Setting aside his food, he came to sit opposite me and picked up a pack of cards.

“Yeah, I am.” I winked at him. We might not have had enough time to start something, but I could still enjoy teasing him. I was already looking forward to that night, to the moment when we’d be alone again. I loved the moments before sleep when we curled around each other, drowsy confessions and wordless cuddles, like floating away on a cloud of good feelings, sweet emotions tucked all around us like quilts. In those moments, I was invincible and happier than I’d been in years.

And even with my mounting nerves about the competition, I kept that feeling going as we opened the cards. My first two packs only yielded things I either already had or couldn’t use, but I wasn’t that disappointed. Something about the act of unwrapping them, the scent of new cards, and the company was enough.

“Here. This goes more in your frog deck.” Alden held out a card from the stack he’d opened.

“Have it already, but thanks.” I added the card to my pile before opening the final pack, thumbing through past the commons, to find the couple of included rares. “Holy wow.”

“What?” Alden leaned forward so he could see, and I had to squash the old impulse to hide the find from him. This wasn’t my competition. This was my…well, my guy, if nothing else. The one who would probably be happy for me, not try to take the card.

“I scored a Transforming Scroll Scribe rare.” Turning the card this way and that, I marveled at the artwork and my luck both.

“Really?” He whistled low. “Jasper’s been wanting to score one of those for years for his transforming deck, but it’s a two-hundred-dollar card. The sort of card that makes any deck stronger.”

“I know.” My heart rate galloped like a pony on the first day of spring, but I forced my brain to work as well. “It’s not fair for me to claim it though. The cards were for both of us.”

“You opened the pack. It’s yours. Those are the rules.”

“Regular rules for opening packs in a group don’t apply to us. You really okay with me claiming it? I don’t want a card—even one this cool—to come between us.”