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A small yelp of surprise squeaked out of me when Stepan pulled me away from my desk by my chair. "Grab your stuff." His dominating tone softened with a playful edge.
No use fighting him, because either I listened and made things easy or he'd grab my stuff and drag me out of here himself. So, with a defeated sigh, I stuffed my phone into my back pocket and got up. "Where we going?" It was way after hours, so anything work-related was out of the question.
"On a date." He stated nonchalantly with a soft smile as he settled his hand flat against my lower back to lead me out of the office to his car, where he buckled me in before I could utter a single question.
"Wha? A date? I don't remember you asking nor do I remember agreeing mister." We were already on the road when I got enough sense to sputter something out.
"That's because I didn't. I'm telling you that we're going on a date. Logan stood you up, so I'm making up for it to cheer you up because I don't like seeing you all mopey and sad." He sounded too smooth and rehearsed, which threw me for a spin because this didn't feel like some spur-of-the-moment.
Keeping my lips sealed, I look out the window to try and guess where he'd be taking me—with no luck until we stopped in front of a place.
Pit Pat Splat.
"Didn't take you for an artist." I teased with a snicker when we pulled into a parking spot at the front of the building. "Your idea of a date is to paint together?" I didn't mean to sound so conceited, but sitting and painting a scenic picture wasn't my thing.
"Have you been here before?" Stepan questioned as he killed the engine.
"No, because it's an art place, and I'm not exactly a painter." I remarked with a roll of my eyes before exiting the vehicle with Stepan before he could round around and help me out.
"A good all-around date spot if you've an artistic bone, but it's also a good place for what I've got planned for us." Stepan assured me with a smile before leading me inside the place with an arm around my shoulders.
Unconsciously, I leaned into him, and it was too late to pull away by the time I realized what I had done because it'd be too abrupt and awkward. So, I indulged in his hold with a warm smile. No matter how small or subtle, any gesture or touch from Stepan always caused heat to bloom within me. I shouldn't enjoy it as much as I should; it was a guilty pleasure, really.
"Are you going to paint me like one of your French girls? Or whatever that line is from The Titanic." Cheesiest line ever, in my opinion, but somewhat cute and silly.
"There won't be much painting done if your clothes come off." He mused under his breath before nodding at the man behind the front desk, who then led us around to a huge indoor area the size of a warehouse with various boxes and crates scattered about in almost an obstacle course.
"Though I'll find this will suit your fancy a lot more." Stepan leaned down and whispered in my ear with a low chuckle before directing my attention to a nearby table.
"Oh my God is that—" I couldn't contain my excitement as I bounced over to the table with glee.
"We got all night in here if you want, but maybe an hour before we get a late dinner and I take you home?" Stepan's voice grew closer with his footsteps until he was beside me. "I figured some paintballing would be enough to cheer you up. Ever paintballed before?" He asked while picking up the padded vest to slip it on.
Soundlessly, I shook my head as I picked up the vest to closely examine it. "I've always been curious, but never really tried it or anything. Oh my God I can shoot you and not get in trouble for it?" Okay, I shouldn't be getting so ecstatic about pelting Stepan with shots, but harmless fun was harmless fun, right?
"Tigress, you could shoot me with a real gun and bullet and I won't hold it against you." It sounded unbelievable, but the depth of his eyes meant his words were valid. He looked at me as if I could do no wrong in his eyes.
"What are we gonna get for dinner?" I doubt we'd spend more than half an hour paintballing.
I don't know about him, but I haven't eaten anything since the late afternoon, so I was rather famished. If it weren't for my excitement and the fact that I might throw up, I would've pressed him for dinner first. Well, there's nothing like a good run around and shooting to work up a good appetite.
"I was thinking we could hit up Stand Street since you love that place so much, and it has a little of everything so we don't have to decide on one thing." Smart man. At least he didn't answer 'It's up to you' or some shit like that, because I sure as hell wouldn't be able to decide for the life of me.
Stepan's smile widened darkly and playfully as he leaned down close to me. "Bet you can't get more than fifteen hits on me." Smug ass bastard.
"Oh? What's the wager then? Not that I need any motivation because I'm planning on painting you from head to toe." I chuckled with a challenging grin as I leaned up and puffed my chest out at him.
With a twinkle of victory in his eyes, as if he'd already won, he gave a soft snorting chuckle. "If you can get fifteen or more shots on me, then you and I will go weapon shopping tomorrow for any weapon of your choice. If you get under fifteen once the hour is up, then we go on another outing and dinner, my choice of course." Cheeky little asshole.
"Fine, you're on. Hope you're ready to cough up a brand new 1911 or USP 45 because ain't no way I'm losing this bet. So keep on dreaming about that second date, buddy, because that's the only place it's gonna happen." Although, if it was any fun like this one, I might throw the bet to see what else Stepan had up his sleeve. At least, that was my thought until reality kicked me in the ass to remind me why I couldn't be engaging with Stepan in any manner other than friendly.
"I was prepared to shell out for a tank, so that is nothing." Stepan's hearty chuckle filled the area briefly before a five-minute timer popped up on the scoreboard at the center of the place.
"May the best shooter win." With a flash of a smile, he disappeared behind the stacks of equipment.
Okay, maybe I wouldn't need to throw the game because my chances of losing were higher than I'd like to admit. My chances against Stepan weren't good, considering he was a world-class sniper all on his own. While my skills were good, they weren't that good compared to his.
I just had to stay hidden, out of sight, and somehow gain the element of surprise on him. Stepan may be one hell of a shot, but I was quicker, so as long as I could aim and react faster than him, that's all I needed. Besides, I could take the hits. He only said that I had to get fifteen hits on him and nothing about taking hits myself or anything. This would either be a game of cat 'n mouse or a game of patience, which he would win.
