It’s Packing Day: a Game On bonus scene
Two and a half years after the end of Game On, Dorian’s subscription box has grown and his friends and family are helping him pack the boxes.
SPOILERS ABOUND!
If you haven’t read Game On yet, turn away! This bonus scene occurs 2.5 years after the end of the novel. You will be spoiling yourself if you haven’t read the book. You’ve been warned.
This bonus short story is about 2,500 words, so it’s short and sweet. Grab a snack, sit back, and enjoy!
It’s Packing Day
TWO AND A HALF YEARS LATER
Jamie both loved and hated packing day.
On the one hand, he loved watching Dorian command a room and boss everyone around, telling them where to stand and how to pack the boxes and which people got a free gift for being a new subscriber. Dorian was always hot, but he was even hotter in competent drill sergeant mode, tapping away at a tablet as he told Charlie to wrap the candles in extra tissue paper or sent Poppy and Murphy into a corner with treats to get them out of the way or barked at Coach Shore that the information card listing fun facts about the products and businesses included in that season’s box went in last, so it sat on top and was the first thing subscribers saw when they opened the box.
“The side with the thank-you message has to be facing up, obviously.”
“Obviously,” Coach Shore deadpanned back, clearly having had quite enough of Dorian’s bossiness.
On the other hand, by the time Dorian, Jamie, and Dorian’s employees finished packing almost six hundred boxes, they were tired, hungry, and their feet hurt. And, inevitably, almost everyone went home with paper cuts from the information card, cardboard shred, or the boxes themselves.
Employees in the loosest sense of the word, of course. As in, friends and family Dorian had voluntold to help.
When Dorian had first launched Fir & Pine, he’d packed the boxes at home with help from Jamie, Charlie, and Coach. Boxes would sit on every available surface, lids open with Fir & Pine-branded tissue paper folded inside, and everyone was assigned a role. Charlie wrapped anything fragile in tissue paper and/or bubble wrap, Dorian placed the first item in the box, Jamie followed with the second, and Coach with the third. The three of them would then finish off with items four, five, and six while Charlie affixed the shipping labels to the boxes.
Not much had changed since Dorian had launched four and a half years ago except that now he rented space in a warehouse for packing day given his number of subscribers exceeded what he could feasibly accomplish at home, and there were many more people involved.
Today, they were packing the December holiday box. If they finished before the end of the day, the courier would pick everything up tomorrow, and since it was the end of November, that meant even international subscribers would receive their boxes before Christmas. And considering it was all hands on deck, Jamie couldn’t see why they wouldn’t finish up before dinnertime.
There was Coach Shore and his husband, Pierce, as well as Brawsiski and Charlie, the latter of whom had brought freshly made Danishes, muffins, and scones that he’d baked for the crew. Niall and Gio had driven down from Kelowna, bringing Mom and Holly along too. Skills coach Stanton had arrived with his super famous singer-songwriter husband, Felix—best known as Tenor Jones to the rest of the world—toting industrial-sized urns filled with coffee. Also floating around was Dorian’s assistant, Maya, who was Charlie’s half-sister. She’d recently graduated from Simon Fraser University with a degree in marketing and communications, and Dorian had hired her for admin work and to help out with his digital marketing. She’d proven valuable today—when she wasn’t filming videos or taking photos for social media, she was breaking down empty boxes previously filled with the vendors’ products and toting them out to the recycling bin nearby.
“How are we looking?” Jamie asked Dorian as the hour ticked past mid-afternoon and into evening. “Almost done, it looks like.”
“Nearly.” Dorian looked up from his tablet and gave him a tired smile. “I think we set a new record for how fast we can get all the boxes packed and ready for shipping.”
“That’s because you had more volunteers this time.”
“Um.” Charlie held up a finger. “Excuse me. Volunteers? Pretty sure we’re all here under duress.”
Dorian’s jaw dropped. “Duress? I’ll show you duress.”
“I’m not here under duress.” Mom put up a hand. “This was fun. I got to see my son-in-law at work.”
Dorian preened under son-in-law while Jamie sent panicked “oh my god, why” eyes at his mom. He had plans for tonight, damn it, and swear to god, if she ruined things before they even got home and Jamie could give Dorian his surprise, she was never invited to stay the weekend with them again.
Dorian didn’t read too much into Mom’s comment, thank Christ.
And besides, according to British Columbia laws, they were considered to be in a common-law marriage given how long they’d been living together. Still, Jamie didn’t want common law—he wanted the real thing.
Dorian poked Charlie in the shoulder. “If you’re here under duress, why did you bring treats this morning? Freshly baked treats.”
Colour blooming on his cheeks, Charlie rolled his lips inward, letting them out with a pop. “I…don’t have a good answer for that.”
Brawsiski shot a teasing smile his way. “I had to stop him from making cinnamon rolls too,” he told Dorian.
Charlie scowled at his husband of six months. “Traitor.”
Dorian’s grin was smug. “Knew you were excited to be here.”
“I just wanted to make sure my gingerbread cookie mix got packed properly.”
“Sure, sure.”
Charlie side-eyed his cousin and best friend, smiled softly, and bumped their shoulders together. His business had grown since his apple cinnamon muffin mix had been included in Dorian’s inaugural box. He’d once told Jamie that he’d wanted his baked goods in grocery stores and bakeries, but after the launch of Dorian’s box, he’d opted instead to sell his products online, and business was booming. He credited Dorian for his success, which Dorian often scoffed at with a muttered, “No one’s responsible for your success but you.” It was one of the reasons Charlie always made himself available to help Dorian pack his boxes—that, and the fact that the cousins supported each other no matter what, even if a little friendly ribbing was involved.
Plus, as Jamie had learned, Dorian had paid off Charlie’s financial debt several years ago.
“He supported me when I needed it,” Charlie had once told Jamie. “Even if I didn’t want him to,” he’d added with a frown. “It’s my turn to support him however I can.”
“Weren’t we promised dinner?” Coach Shore said now from the other side of the room, where he was closing the lids of boxes already packed with all the products and the information card. “I want ramen.”
“Ooh, me too,” Pierce piped in.
“I kind of want a big, hearty sandwich,” Brawsiski said.
“I’m thinking pizza after a day like today,” Niall added.
Dorian turned pleading eyes on Jamie.
Giving him a reassuring smile, Jamie got out his phone and prepared to take orders.
***
Dorian dragged himself and his tired feet into the house just before eight and flicked on the lights in the foyer, brightening the entranceway. Poppy and Murphy trotted by him, their little claws clicking against the floor as they went into the kitchen.
Jamie walked in behind him, shut the door, and leaned back against it with a groan. “Fuck, I’m wiped. What do you say we leave the extra products in the truck and unpack them tomorrow?”
“You read my mind.”
Dorian always ordered more product than he needed in case anything got broken or damaged during transit or while packing. He’d put the extras up for sale on his website once the boxes began to ship, but for now they could stay in the U-Haul they’d rented to get them from here to the warehouse.
As he removed his shoes, the sounds of laughter came from downstairs. Gio and Niall, as well as Jamie’s mom and sister, were staying in the basement bedrooms until they drove back to Kelowna in a couple of days. It’d been cramped down there up until this morning since that was where he’d been storing his vendors’ deliveries, but now that the products were packed into six hundred-plus boxes, Jamie’s family had more space.
They’d driven Jamie’s car back from the warehouse while Dorian and Jamie had driven the truck, arriving more or less at the same time. Dorian had been about to invite them in for a drink when Jamie had clutched his shoulders from behind and gently pushed him toward the front door.
“Good night,” Jamie had called loudly as his family had made their way to the basement entrance. “See you tomorrow. But not too early.”
Jamie’s mom had squeed for some reason and Holly had given them a thumbs up. Niall had waggled his eyebrows and Gio had made a crude gesture Dorian hadn’t known how to interpret.
They were weird, the whole lot of them. Dorian wouldn’t take them any other way. Because they might be weird and tease one another mercilessly, but they also loved fiercely—and that included Dorian.
Jamie sometimes joked that the only reason Dorian was still with him almost five years later was for his family. And while there was maybe a smidgen of truth to that, the reality was that he and Jamie just fit. They understood each other’s quirks and desires and habits. The pieces of Dorian that had never fit with anyone else just worked with Jamie, and the reverse was true too.
“You hungry?” he asked, following the dogs into the kitchen.
“After that feast we had earlier?” Jamie snorted and opened up the back door, gesturing with the other hand. “Last chance,” he said to the dogs. “Dorian and I are headed to bed after this.”
Packing days were the only days Dorian went to bed at a reasonable hour.
The dogs had done their business in the front yard a few minutes ago, so Dorian wasn’t surprised when they ignored Jamie and headed for their beds in his office.
Dorian handed Jamie a glass of water and kissed him softly. “Thanks for the help today. I know you’ve got an early day tomorrow.”
“I’m happy to help. You know that. Now, come on.” Jamie took his hand and led the way toward the stairs. “I want to give you your birthday present.”
“But my birthday’s not for a few days.”
“Yeah, but I’ll be on the road with the team.”
“You can give it to me when you get back.”
“I could,” Jamie said as they crested the top step.
“But you’re not going to.”
“Nope. Let me grab it from my hiding spot.” He went into the spare bedroom—his old bedroom, the one across the hall from Dorian’s. Dorian shuffled into their room and flopped face first onto the bed.
He wasn’t getting up for at least a week.
“So…”
Dorian rolled over at Jamie’s voice. Jamie stood by the bed, one of the Fir & Pine boxes clutched between white-knuckled hands. He looked uncharacteristically nervous, which sent Dorian scurrying to sit up.
Jamie thrust the box at him with an anemic smile. “Happy early birthday.”
“Um…thanks?” What could possibly be in here that was making him so edgy? “It’s not one of my own boxes, is it?”
“No,” Jamie said with a laugh, relaxing slightly. “I made you your own custom subscription box. I just used a Fir & Pine box for the outer packaging.”
Bubbles of happiness burst in Dorian’s chest, and he grabbed the box, setting it on the bed in front of him. His own custom box? He repressed the urge to dive into it, forcing himself to take his time and relish the moment as he slowly opened the lid and moved the tissue paper aside.
“Oh, they’re numbered,” he said, removing the tissue-wrapped bundle with the number one handwritten on it with a Sharpie. “It’s like a mini advent calendar.”
“Right,” Jamie said, sitting cross-legged across from him.
The first gift was a box of Lucky Charms, the small individual-sized ones often found in hotel breakfast buffets. The second was a box of Corn Flakes.
Appropriate.
Gift number three was a framed five-by-seven photo of the four of them—Dorian, Jamie, Poppy, and Murphy—taken at the beach during the summer.
The fourth gift was also a frame, this time holding a printout of the tech blog write-up about the sale of his app.
Frowning, he glanced at Jamie.
“You hide it away,” Jamie said quietly, his blue-grey eyes as serious as ever. “I’ve never understood why you don’t take more pride in what you’ve accomplished. You didn’t just create an important app—you sold it to a company that wanted it badly enough to give you millions, and you’re making people’s lives better. You just have to look at the reviews to see that.”
Dorian had never looked at the reviews for his app. Once it had sold, it had been out of his hands. It hadn’t been his. So the reviews didn’t matter.
Or so he’d thought.
Hearing Jamie say that he was making some people’s lives a little easier… It hit him right in the solar plexus and made his eyes burn for reasons he couldn’t explain.
Gently setting the frame aside, he reached for the tissue-wrapped bundle marked with a number five. It was a mug with Jamie’s face on it.
“So you don’t forget what I look like when I’m away with the team,” Jamie said proudly.
Dorian’s snorted laugh of surprise turned into a full belly laugh. “As if I would.” He leaned forward for a quick kiss. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Open the last one.” Jamie nudged the box toward him. “It’s my favourite one.”
Gift number six was a box. Inside it was another, smaller box. Inside that was yet another box. And another, getting progressively smaller until the bed around Dorian was littered with boxes.
“For the love of god, Jamie.”
Jamie snickered.
Until Dorian pulled out the final box.
A tiny box.
A tiny, velvet box.
Sucking in a breath, his gaze flew to Jamie’s.
Jamie scooched forward until their knees bumped and took Dorian’s hands in his. “Dori.”
Dorian’s heartbeat sped up.
“I love you.”
His palms went sweaty.
“I love us. I love the life we’ve been built together, and I want to make it permanent. Will you—”
“Yes.”
It was Jamie’s turn to suck in a breath, whether at the interruption or at the force behind Dorian’s answer, Dorian couldn’t say. Then a smile bloomed across Jamie’s face and it was unlike anything Dorian had ever seen before—wondrous, beautiful, and a lot awed. “Yes?”
“Yes,” Dorian repeated hoarsely. “Jamie. Obviously yes.”
Jamie let out a little laugh of disbelief.
The velvet box still clutched in one hand, Dorian launched himself at him, scattering gifts and boxes across the bed, and kissed his stupid face off.
Jamie kept laughing through Dorian’s kisses, drawing the dogs upstairs.
“Hear that, guys?” Jamie asked them. “He said yes.” Cupping the back of Dorian’s neck, Jamie whispered, “He said yes.”
“Damn right, he said yes.”
And Dorian kissed him some more. Kissed him until kisses turned into moans and wandering hands and the dogs got freaked and trotted out of the room to the sound of clinking dog tags.
Leaving Dorian with his fiancé and a future he couldn’t wait to greet.
* * *
THE END
Copyright 2024 Amy Aislin. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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