The world goes blurry for a beat. When I come back to myself, I register that I’m on the ground, lying on my back. There’s a heaviness on top of me, preventing me from sitting up.
Lifting my head, I examine the limbs sprawled over mine. My eyes trace slowly up the expanse of a broad chest, the curve of a neck, all the way up to a stubbled, square jaw. Jesse’s mouth is set into a hard line, those intense blue-gray eyes searching mine. Somehow, he’d managed to cup a hand around the back of my head, cushioning my fall. His fingers are woven through my hair, slowly stroking the strands.
“Are you okay?” His eyes quickly scan my body, looking for, I don’t know, gaping wounds or exposed bone.
I laugh. “I’m fine.”
But our eyes stay fixed on each other for a long beat, as his fingers comb through my mud-streaked hair.
The moment is shattered just as quickly by the tread of footsteps barreling toward us, and I break Jesse’s gaze, noticing for the first time that there’s a splatter of green dripping down his side.
“Oh shit. Areyouokay?” I ask him. Jesse eases himself off me, and I gasp at the loss of contact, immediately missing the deliciousweight of his body. Rolling into a seated position, he examines the splatter of paint on his shirt.
“I’m fine,” he says. “Grateful we opted for a low-impact course. Regular paintballs hurt like hell.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Jesse, did you… take a bullet for me?”
He gives me a half smile and winks.
I know it’s a game, but as silly as it is, it actually touches something real inside me.
The crunch of gravel beneath shoes signals Toby and Shelby’s arrival, saving me from lingering too long on that thought.
The two of them high-five as they stand over us, a cloud of dust billowing behind them. Even their silhouettes are smug. They look like a pair of gunslingers at an Old West shootout.
“Well, well, well, looks like we’re going to win this thing after all,” Toby proclaims. He turns to me, reaching an arm forward to help me up.
Jesse stands and cocks his hip like a young Clint Eastwood to give me a heavy-lidded look.
“Sorry to leave you on your own,” he says in a dramatic voice. “But I have faith in you.” He cups my cheek, still joking, but my heart skips a beat anyway.
“Carry us to the finish line.”
“Okay, it’s official. You guys are terrifying.” I sink back into the sticky vinyl booth as I appraise the couple sitting across from me. “They could make an entire Marvel offshoot franchise about the two of you.”
Toby and Shelby clink their glasses. “That’s why they say to marry your best friend,” Shelby says with a proud grin.
“Cheers to that.” Toby puckers his lips, and his wife leans in to kiss him.
I wince jokingly, then look to Jesse, who shakes his head indulgently.
I’ve felt lighter ever since we arrived at Monkeyshines. Maybe it’s the warm haze of alcohol or perhaps it’s the catharsis of mock violence at the paintball course, when I cracked open in the best possible way. Or maybe it’s just the sheer relief of no longer wearing pants with a padded crotch. Whatever the cause, by the time we finish our first round of drinks, I’m finally starting to relax.
Not just for the day, either. Something deeper in me is starting to loosen. Some lightness in me is starting to float to the top.
On second thought, “relax” is not exactly the right word. A relaxed person could not possibly be as focused on another person as I am on Jesse. Lately, there’s been a seismic shift between us. I’m newly aware of his presence, tracking his movements, clocking his proximity to me. Attuned to the sound of his voice, the low rumble of his laughter.
The guys head to the bar for a second round of drinks, and when Jesse slides back into the booth beside me, my entire body sparks to life. He places a pint in front of each of us, then dips his head toward mine. His intoxicating woodsy scent washes over me as his lips brush against my ear. The sensation sends goose bumps up my forearm.
“You doing okay?” he whispers. “The kids and all?”
“Yes,” I manage through dry lips.
It’s not that I don’t miss my kids, but for the past few hours, they haven’t been at the top of my mind. Today, I’ve been experiencing life not as a mother but as a woman. And I only have the smallest, tiniest bit of guilt about it. Which, for a mom, is pretty good.
Jesse’s forearm brushes against mine as he leans back into the booth, sending a zing of electricity through my body. He’s sitting close to me, closer than he probably should. Not that I mind it one bit. The way my body is pulling toward his feels inevitable, like two opposite poles of a magnet. He slides his hands under the table,resting his palm beside mine on the leather seat. So close that I can feel the heat of it. I inch my pinkie finger a millimeter closer to his.
“I want to thank you guys for taking me out,” I say. “I can’t remember the last time I did this.”
