The Game Has Changed by D. L. Wu

as
she waited for him to sit down on his side of the bed. Evan stared
at her upon doing so, taking note of the fact that she was
struggling with the courage to continue with what she wanted to ask
of him.
    “Can you tell me now?” she beseeched, her voice
barely a whisper.
    A look of wonder crossed his face as their eyes
met. “About why I’m running?” he asked, though he already knew the
answer.
    She nodded slowly. “I think you trust me more
now,” she said. “I mean, like with the tape and all. At least, I
hope so.”
    He sighed, unsure as to whether he really
wanted to confide in her.
    “I feel like . . .” she began again before he
could contest it. “I feel like we’re spiritually a little bit
closer after what happened today.” She laid her heart upon her
sleeve with her admission. She wasn’t afraid to take that chance
anymore. Nor did she want to worry about the chance that he would
eventually do something that would hurt her.
    “Yeah, we are,” he agreed. She was thrilled
when he tenderly touched her hand. “We’re almost like soul mates,
in some ways.”
    She nodded, her heart pounding. “Soul mates,”
she agreed. “I mean . . . I was ashamed at first . . . about what
happened. About the fact that you saw me . . . in that
way.”
    “Naked?” He shrugged. “I didn’t really see
anything to be honest,” he assured her. “I was so blinded by my
anger for that kid that I didn’t see anything.”
    Jaime shuddered. Surprisingly, his admission
didn’t make her feel better. She wanted him to recognize her
sexually. To want her and desire her. For some inexplicable reason,
she was heartbroken by his words.
    After a long, dissatisfied moment, she sighed.
“Did you kill somebody?” she asked boldly.
    She sensed his entire body language change at
that given moment. He tensed at her speculation. Her heartbreak and
her disappointment in him caused her to press on.
    “Did you kill one of your lovers? Are you a
serial killer or something horrible like that?”
    If he is, why am I taunting him in
such a way? she wondered. Why
am I risking angering him?
    She regarded him with veiled eyes. The anger
she expected to see brewing within him didn’t materialize. Instead,
she found him staring contemplatively at her.
    “That sounds very romantic, but I’m sorry to
let you down,” he said softly. “I’m not a modern day Jack the
Ripper, but then . . . neither are you a prostitute.”
    She gave him a confused look, not understanding
what he was talking about. He was well aware of that fact, pleased
to find that he wanted to keep her guessing.
    “I’m not a killer,” he replied. “Not to
worry.”
    She sighed and looked away.
    “That’s a rather bizarre reaction to my telling
you that I’m not a killer,” he mused. “You sound disappointed that
I’m not.”
    “Sometimes, I wish you were, to be honest,” she
admitted. “You could put me out of my misery rather quickly if that
were to be the case.”
    Evan was a tad stunned by her statement. Was he
reading her wrong all this time? Was she not falling in love with
him? Did she still want out? “Let me try and get this sorted out,”
he said with amazement. “You want me to kill you?”
    She looked him directly in the eye then. “It
would make everything easier for both of us.”
    “How so?”
    “You wouldn’t have to look after me anymore and
I wouldn’t . . .” Before she could finish her sentence, she burst
into tears. She pressed her hand against her mouth in hopes of
holding in her sobs.
    Filled with pity, Evan took a hold of her hand.
“Tell me,” he pleaded.
    She shook her head despondently, unable to
utter a word because of her tears.
    “I think I get you, Sweetheart,” he said with
compassion. “You don’t have to be ashamed of the way you’re
feeling. I won’t make fun of it. I understand.”
    “Then, you tell me!” she cried.
    “I think you’re feeling something for
me.”
    “Am I?”
    He nodded with tenderness,