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“So do you and Scott still have something going?” Tango asked one night. They were laying on the roof of the new ranch house, taking advantage of whatever breezes disturbed the still, hot summer air. It had become a habit by now, one Jimmy found himself looking forward to more and more.
“Hmm?” Jimmy asked, not looking his way. He rather hoped that if he just pretended not to hear, Tango would pretend he’d never asked. Not likely, given Tango’s tenacity, but worth a try.
“I mean, back in the first game,” Tango persisted. “It seemed like you two were really close. You and Scott, even more than Grian and Scar or Ren and Martyn. You went home with him, right?”
“Yeah, for a little while.”
“What happened?” Tango seemed to be getting the message, a little belatedly, that this might not be a welcome topic of conversation. “I mean, if you want to talk about it.”
Oddly enough, Jimmy found he suddenly did. “Scott plays the game like Grian does, the way I think he originally meant it to be,” he told Tango. “When the game is going, they’re in it all the way, but when it’s over, it’s all over. Every new game washes the slate clean.” That had been a wrench to discover on the first day of Last Life; that a person who had been home was now a stranger and a competitor all over again. Maybe that was why it had been so hard to trust his new alliance. How could the Southlands stand when not even Scott could be trusted?
At least he had it easier than Scar, Jimmy mused. At least he hadn’t wound up soulbound to Scott the way Scar had been tied to Grian. He couldn’t fathom what it must feel like to be bound to the ashes of a dead love, with a soulmate who now held you in open contempt and practically bragged about how you were dragging him down.
Jimmy knew plenty about how embarrassing it was to be a burden, but Tango had never once made him feel that way. Tango made him feel good, made him feel strong and competent and valuable in ways nobody ever had before. Jimmy had gotten very, very lucky with his bond.
“That’s hard to imagine,” Tango decided, looking up at the sky full of now-familiar stars. “I mean, I’ve never fallen in love in the game before, but I’m still mad at Bdubs for backstabbing me last game. I don’t know how anybody could just let it all go and play fresh.”
Jimmy was silent for a moment, turning his head to look at Tango’s profile etched out against the starry sky. He could let it pass, should let it pass… “Before?” he asked quietly.
Even in the pale wash of moonlight, Jimmy could see the sudden color flood Tango’s cheeks. “I mean… you don’t… I know we haven’t known each other very long. I don’t want to make it weird.” He was tripping over his own words.
“It’s not weird,” Jimmy assured him, reaching out and grabbing Tango’s hand in a reassuring squeeze. “Or if it’s weird, we’re weird together.”
Tango’s hand was hot in his, like always, as he squeezed back just as tightly. “Doesn’t it scare you?” he asked. “What if it’s not… I mean, it feels real, it feels more real than maybe anything else, but what if it goes away? What if it’s just the game?”
Jimmy thought about that for a minute, remembered a time that now seemed lifetimes ago. “Yeah, it’s scary,” he agreed. “It hurt bad when things ended with Scott. But I wouldn’t give up what we had just because it ended. And we don’t even know how this game is going to end, so the last thing I want to do is blow a chance to be happy just because we don’t know how it’s going to turn out.”
“That’s a good point,” Tango allowed. He tugged lightly on Jimmy’s hand, rolling them to face one another. The red of Tango’s eyes painted both of them with the faintest wash of light in the deep darkness of the night. “We’ve got a good thing here,” he told Jimmy. “Maybe we should just let it play out, see if we can get a happy ending out of one of these damn games.”
Jimmy couldn’t help grimacing. “That’s not very likely,” he admitted. “I’ve got this-” He trailed off when Tango put one of those warm, warm fingers over his mouth.
“I don’t believe in curses,” Tango said firmly. “If we go out early, it’s just the way the game played out.” He grinned wryly. “Anyway, if we’ve learned anything from two of these disasters, it’s that winning the game doesn’t mean a happy ending.”
“Well that’s true enough,” Jimmy agreed, wrapping his hand around Tango’s wrist to free up his mouth. “I did have more fun in the afterlife, myself. Fewer people trying to murder you there.”
“It does have that going for it,” Tango agreed solemnly. He pulled Jimmy’s hand to his own mouth and pressed a kiss to the knuckles that Jimmy felt all the way down to his toes. Tango’s raised eyebrow suggested that he’d felt the echo of it as well. That was… interesting. “But we’re alive right now, and I’ve got some ideas for what we can do with it.”
“Oh you do, do you?” Curious, Jimmy pulled their joined hands back, turning Tango’s hand palm up and kissing the soft place under his thumb. He clearly felt the shiver through his own body.
“Uh-huh,” Tango’s voice was a little breathy, but still smug. “How do you feel about bringing another warden to the surface and letting it run around?”
“What?” Jimmy’s baffled squawk was almost overwhelmed by the sound of Tango’s laughter, both ringing out into the quiet of the night. Far away, a lonely goat horn sounded.