Lie to Me (Pearl Island Trilogy #4)(12)

Chloe went still at his question. God yes, she wanted to say. Every day. She wanted to be part of the Pearl Island family so much, the ache throbbed in her chest. Allison and the others had accepted her right from the beginning, when she’d first come to the island as a twelve-year-old runaway looking for her uncle. Her Uncle Scott had been staying at the inn as a guest, which was how he’d met and fallen in love with Allison. But Chloe still didn’t feel like she truly belonged.

The St. Claire siblings had been a revelation. She’d seen, to her amazement, that some families were as kind and loving in private as they appeared in public. She’d wished ever since then that she’d been born into that family, instead of her own.

Rather than admit that, she shrugged lightly. “Wanting something badly? I might know a little about that.”

“That’s what gaming is for me. It’s not something I do as a pastime. It’s my life.” His passion for it lit his whole face, as if a mask had fallen away. “I don’t just play games. I own a gaming company.”

“Really?” Fascination filled her as she took in the change in his demeanor. The bored, cocky Cool Guy who had crept in for a few minutes had vanished, thank God. “You own a company that sells games?”

“Not exactly. I mean, yes, we sell games, but we only sell one. The one I created. Vortal. Creating it has been my life’s work.”

“Your ‘life’s’ work?” She looked him up and down, appreciating the view. “You’re not that old.”

“I started scripting it when I was ten.”

“Seriously? I can’t imagine anyone knowing what they want to do by age ten.”

“The nucleus of the idea came to me even before that. I was inspired by… something.” The hesitation lent weight to the word rather than dismissing it. “Something that is nearly as important to me as the game itself.”

“So, tell me about this game of yours.” She crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward.

“You actually want to hear about it?”

“Of course.”

“Well, okay then.” He looked dubious but pleased. “By the time I was sixteen, I knew I had something big. I could have sold it to one of the major gaming companies, but I knew what would happen if I did. They’d pay me a pittance, then cut me out of the picture. So I decided I’d start my own company.”

“Makes sense.” She shrugged.

“Oh, how easy you make that sound. It took patience, cunning, and sheer guts.” He spoke the words with conviction rather than conceit.

“Impressive,” she said, having no problem with confidence in a man as long as it was earned.

“You see,” he said, leaning forward as well, “back when I decided to keep Vortal to myself, things were very different than they are today. Corporations controlled everything, because people didn’t buy games off the Internet. They bought them in stores. The big companies were the only way to get a game produced and distributed. So, I bided my time while I learned the ropes from the inside. I landed my first job as a code writer practically the day I graduated high school. Not something that pleased my parents.”

“Why wouldn’t that please them? Most parents like it when their kids get a job. Unless they wanted you to go to college first.”

“My parents?” His eyes widened. “Not exactly. Oh, they were adamant I finish high school, but not because they cared so much about my getting a diploma. I could have done that on an accelerated program and zipped through. They insisted I go through school at a normal pace so I could make friends and enjoy the whole school experience.” He rolled his eyes as if he found the idea tiresome. “Of course, that was back when they were still hoping I’d—” He stopped abruptly.

“Hoping you’d what?” She ducked her head, trying to read his expression.

His gaze shifted as if calculating how much to tell her. She knew whatever he said wouldn’t be the full story. That irritated her, when he’d been on a roll with honesty.

“Hoping I’d be more like them,” he finally said.

“Which is…?”

“Cool.” A wry grin added humor to the admission. “I have the coolest parents on the planet. My dad’s a sax player in a blues band and my mom used to wait tables on Bourbon Street. We never had much money, but our house had a revolving door for family and friends.”

“Something that would be great, if you like your family and parents’ friends. Trust me, I know that isn’t always the case.”

“Are you kidding? The problem wasn’t them.” His mouth twisted. “Try being the only gamer in a big, loud, Cajun family where how well you cook gumbo matters a hell of a lot more than your highest score at Legends of Zelda.”

“I’m sure they loved you for your specialness.” She teased.

“Actually, I’m fairly certain my cousins wanted to chop me up as gator bait.”

“Maybe they were jealous of your intellect.”

“Oh yeah, making lame jokes about my lack of athletic prowess was their way of complimenting my superior mental abilities.”

She took in his obviously toned body. “I have trouble believing you’re short on athletic skill.”

“Lifting weights doesn’t require a lot of physical coordination. A fact I wish I’d discovered earlier in life.”