Charming as Puck(52)

Now the receptionist is having a coughing fit.

A woman in a black T-shirt with a name badge around her neck steps out from behind one of the doors leading to the escape rooms.

“Wankers and Murphy?” a voice calls.

Kami and I both do a double-take and simultaneously choke on snorts as the entire contingency of overall-clad guys—and token woman in jeans, boots, and a sweater—all stand.

“I’ve got the Wankers,” the woman announces.

“Oh my god, Nick, we have to,” Kami whispers. “How often do you get to spend a first date with a bunch of Wankers?”

I can’t talk because I’m still choking on snorts, so when the woman calls, “Murphy?” again, Kami tugs my hand and pulls me toward her.

“We’re here,” she says. “Sorry. My boyfriend inhaled some dust. He has breathing problems sometimes. It’s a congenital condition.”

I should be threatening to pay her back later, but seeing her eyes sparkle and shine like that—she can make up stories about me anytime she wants.

I wouldn’t even care if she said I had a small dick, because first of all, she knows better, and second of all, so long as she likes my dick, I don’t really care what anyone else thinks.

Especially if she keeps calling me her boyfriend. I’m more like a full-grown man-friend with fucking awesome cock skills, but I can work with boyfriend. But only if it’s Kami calling me that.

I put extra effort into pretending I’m hacking up a lung, because it’s what I’m supposed to do, and I’m going to be the best fucking boyfriend to ever walk the earth.

Bonus, Kami rubs my back and uses her free hand to grip my arm like she needs to guide me.

Fuck, I missed her touching me. The things we take for granted, man.

We’re led down a long hallway and into the prep room. I did one of these escape room things with the team just before training camp started, so I pretty much know how it goes. Kami’s listening with rapt attention while our hostess explains how to find clues and how much time we have to figure out the combination on the lock out of the control room before we lose the game.

“If we lose, it’s the Johnson-Wankers’ fault,” the old guy grumbles.

“Shove it, old man,” the younger guy with one earbud popped out replies.

Kami’s lips twitch, but you have to be looking close to see it. The hostess asks if anyone needs to use the bathroom one last time before we’re all locked into our room for an hour, and Kami nudges me.

“I’m good,” I whisper.

“You have a respiratory problem,” she whispers back, so softly no one else can hear. “Count to five and cough. You have to sell this.”

She pecks my cheek while the old guy grumbles about how stupid this is and the woman—his daughter, maybe? Or granddaughter?—forces a bright smile. “It’s been thirty years. We’re going to bond, we’re going to get out of this room together, and we’re going to let this all fucking go. Or else you’ll never see Alex and me again.”

For the first time, Kami frowns. “Do you all need to do this alone?”

“No,” the left half of the group answers while the right half all reply, “Yes.”

I fake a coughing fit.

“Are you smart?” one of the middle-aged men asks Kami.

“She’s a doctor,” I answer for her. My voice is raspy, and she scoots closer to me while she shivers.

I’m no expert in shivers, but I think that was a she likes my voice like this shiver.

“An animal doctor,” she explains. “Not an astrophysicist or anything.”

“Good enough. I’m John. My brothers, Joe, Jim, and Jake, and Jake’s son, Alex, who’s not smart at all. You’re on our team and I’ll give you half a cow if you can get us the hell out of here in fifteen minutes or less.”

“Aren’t we all on the same team?” Kami asks, ignoring the half-a-cow thing.

“No,” all but the woman and Alex answer.

“I don’t team up with Johnson-Wankers,” the old man mutters.

“I’m Jordan,” the woman tells us, “and this is my dad, Jeremiah, and his brother, Jerry.”

“Jesus,” I mutter. I’m just calling them the J-squad. Numbering them might be easier.

Kami’s lips twitch again. “I’m Kami. This is Nick. He’ll be mostly useless thanks to the respiratory issues, but he’s often lucky, so there’s that working to our advantage.”

She pats my back again.

So maybe I’m not going to get to make out with her in the magic escape room, but despite the lingering ache in my dick, I don’t mind.

She said I get lucky.

I can have patience.

“Great, so now you all know each other, and the rules, and how to hit the panic button,” our hostess says brightly, “let’s go rescue some kittens in space.”

Groans and mutters of “Some what?” go through the room.

Except for Kami.

She tips her head back and laughs while she claps her hands. “You’re amazing,” she tells me, and I just grin.

I could block six thousand pucks in this moment.

Lavoie’s right.

I’ve got it bad.

Our hostess herds us into the actual escape room, tells us to look for our first clue “in outer space,” and pulls the door shut behind her.