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He pouted again, and she ignored him.
“You can’t memorize the sheets, but it doesn’t hurt to give them a good, long look to get familiar.”
As she began arranging her sheets, he did as she said. His eyes scanned over the numbers. Spread across six sheets with six different bingo cards on each one, there were hundreds of them. He started feeling overwhelmed all over again.
“You have any tricks you’d recommend?” he asked.
“It’s important to remember that you’re not just searching for random numbers across the sheets. If the number they call is B15, focus only on the B columns. Don’t let all the numbers make you feel like you’re going on a wild goose chase.”
That made sense. Perfect sense actually. He knew the rules of the game. Understood that the only way to get a bingo was to match both numbers and letters with the ones called. But in the previous games he’d played, he’d been disconnected from the point she’d made. His eyes had flitted across the pages with each call, searching for matches in places they couldn’t be. Aja’s words reminded him what he already knew but had failed to fully grasp in practice.
They both straightened up, eyes to the front as the bingo caller announced from the podium that they were about to begin.
Walker followed Aja’s lead as he unscrewed the top on his green dauber. The game started with little fanfare. He couldn’t remember the name of the woman calling the numbers, but she moved much slower than the other two callers he’d encountered. He wasn’t mad at it though; he got through the first three numbers easily. He didn’t have any matches, but he didn’t feel flustered the way he usually did.
“Maybe I don’t need as much practice as I thought,” he commented to Aja.
“Don’t get too cocky,” she laughed. “I told you, Mrs. Schofield likes to go at a snail’s pace—but this is how she always sounds, even in regular conversations. She talks so slow that sometimes people bring their kids on Monday nights because it’s the only time the little ones have a chance of keeping up.”
“And, just like that, my confidence is shot.”
“No!” Her hand shot out to touch his forearm, sparking lightning behind his skin. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was playing with you.”
“I know, Aja.” His voice was rough, his eyes on her hand resting against him. She’d gotten new nails. Pretty and pink and marbled, and he immediately thought about what they would look like clutching at his back or wrapped around his… “I’m just fuckin’ around. Don’t worry.”
“Right…”
He could tell she was embarrassed. Her eyes dropped to the table and her face morphed into a light grimace. “What kind of friends would we be if we couldn’t fuck with each other every now and then?”
She was quiet for a few seconds, studying him. He wasn’t sure what she was looking for, or if she found it, but the tension around her eyes faded. He groaned internally when she moved her hand off his arm, immediately missing her touch.
“So, we’re friends now?” she asked, her eyes back on her sheets. “I didn’t know that.”
It took everything in him to take his eyes off her. “Do you make a habit of hanging out with random men and helping them get better at bingo so they can find a way to not be bored to death in this awful town?”
“Only if you call four or five guys a habit.” The words came out in an exaggerated whisper, and he had to bite back a bark of laughter.
“So this was all some ploy to make me think this was my idea before you turn around and play me.” His confidence was bolstered as he easily found another called number on one of his sheets. “You lure me in with those irresistible eyes and get my defenses down long enough to what? Rob me? Convince me to join some multilevel marketing scheme where you make me hawk shitty leggings to sad moms?”
Those eyes turned to him, just as irresistible as he’d claimed them to be. “All of this may or may not just be a long con to get you to move my furniture around my apartment.”
“I’d say it’s working pretty well. I can start doing my stretches to get my back ready to move a couch all by my lonesome if that’s what you want from me, Aja.”
“You’d offer your services up that easily? I barely had to do any work to get you to commit to that.”
The air between them sparked with something new. Walker’s brain told him that this conversation was far too charged for one between friends. Some part of him—his heart or his dick or something else, he didn’t know—was feeding off it. He felt excited and electrified and horny as hell. Those were dangerous things to feel for a woman he was trying not to bed. But that knowledge didn’t stop him from pushing past the limit he’d set for himself just a little bit more.
“How else am I supposed to show you how eager I am to please?” His words were low and brazen.
Aja’s eyelids got even lower as she blinked at him slowly. He could see her chest rise and fall a little faster. Her skin was too dark to show any kind of natural blush, but he was willing to guess that her cheeks were as warm as his. They stared at each other, that crackling air settling into something so charged he wasn’t sure how it didn’t suffocate them both. When her plush lips parted again, he held his breath, waiting impatiently for her next words.
“I think you’re trying to get me into some trouble, Walker Abbott,” she said softly. “Either that or you’re purposely trying to distract me so I don’t win before you do.”
“Too bad, I’ll never tell,” he whispered conspiratorially, using every bit of his strength to turn his attention to his sheets, suddenly much less interested in the game when faced with the reality of Aja fucking Owens.
He took the long way home, driving just at the speed limit on side streets and through neighborhoods he knew would make his drive time longer. He’d had an amazing time with Aja. Neither of them had won or even come close, but it was the most fun he’d had all week. Even if he’d had to spend the majority of that time holding himself back from flirting with her.
Gram was a night owl, and he knew she’d be awake when he got home. Their conversation would likely be awkward and strained in the way it often was these days. Sure enough, she was sitting on the couch when he came in. The television was on but muted, and the low light from one of the side-table lamps gave the old room a soft glow.
