“And I expect it might happen again.”
I half-chuckle. “Probably.”
“Hopefully.” She winks. “Maybe not at the bowling place anymore though, all right?”
I’m at a loss for words. The women I’ve been into previously have never been this direct with me. It always felt like I was chasing them while they played hard-to-get. Keeping me guessing, and not necessarily in a good way.
In contrast, I’m not hating this at all. I can feel my confidence growing in what’s happening between us.
And yeah, it may be based on a physical pull to each other more than anything, but I’m down.
Very down.
She doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Your turn again, right?”
“Yup, me.” I go and take my ball, and for the rest of the round, we keep the conversation PG rated, having fun giving each other grief.
She’s definitely not as good as me, but I’m hardly doing great either. I pull together a couple of spares, but otherwise only knock down eight or less pins total.
“I clearly need more practice,” I joke as I walk back to our bench, shaking my head at my last roll of the first round.
Instead of worrying about our skills though, she suggests other things once her turn is done.
“Chicken finger and selfie break?” she asks.
“Sounds good.”
We scoff down the food that Cindy dropped off, not exactly training-level cuisine, but neither of us raises that point. Probably out of hunger.
“Picture time?” I ask once all the chicken fingers are gone.
“Yeah, let’s make Taylor happy.” She reaches for her phone. “Come closer.”
She wraps her left arm around my shoulders and dangles her left hand in front of my chest.
“Smile,” she says. It’s our mantra at this point.
We both cheese it up for the camera and she drops her arm, swiping through the pics. “Yeah, there’s some good ones here.”
After another couple of minutes, we start a second game of bowling. Our play isn’t much better this time around. We go back and forth, mediocre throws by me, followed by even worse results for her.
“Yeah, this may be our last time bowling, I’m afraid,” she says. “I can see the attraction as a date activity, but I think we can do better.”
“Okay, final frame for this round,” I say as I stand up for my turn. “And then we can take off if you want.”
She weighs my words, and then her eyes shift, looking… mischievous?
“How about another wager?” she asks.
I’m bowling better than her, so I already like where this is headed.
“What kind?”
“If you roll a strike…”
“Yes?”
After glancing over at Caleb to make sure he’s not close enough to hear, she leans toward me and whispers six words I never expect. “You get to taste me. Tonight.”
