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“Exactly.”
I brought a forkful of waffle to my mouth, saying “Okay” through the bite. Her shoulders relaxed before she took her own bite. With the scent of syrup teasing my nose and the comfortable silence between us, I was overtaken, once again, by the urge to kiss her.
RJ checked the time on the clock over my head, and my chest tightened at the idea of not spending more time with her. I asked, “What are you doing the rest of the day?”
“Not much. I should stop at the office for a few minutes. Why?”
I drank the last of my orange juice, knowing I wasn’t going to make more of a dent in the stack of waffles. I wanted more time with RJ, and I didn’t want to go back to the empty basement. “We could hang out, if you want. Go see a movie, or find some game to play where I can have a chance at redemption.”
“Bring it on. There’s no game in existence where you could best me.”
I’d smiled more today than I’d thought possible. “So cocky.”
“So confident. There’s a difference.”
“Yeah,” I said, reaching for my wallet. “I guess there is.”
Chapter 41
RJ
THE BOWLING ALLEYsmelled like popcorn and wood polish, and the hits of the 1980s and 1990s flowed from the overhead speakers. I’d been surprised when Lear asked to spend the day together, and even more surprised when I agreed. After we both had time to shower, he’d picked me up, and I grinned but didn’t say anything when the cast recording for a musical played through his speakers. Well, I didn’t say anything for a few minutes, which showed a great deal of restraint on my part since he was humming along with a song fromMy Fair Ladywhen I buckled my seatbelt.
I bent to test the weight of the different bowling balls on the rack, lifting them to see which was best, and felt his eyes on me. “Are you staring at my ass?”
“Yeah.” He said it casually, and I glanced over my shoulder to see him at the rack next to mine. “You have a perfect ass.”
“Oh?” I wiggled a little.
“It’s not like you don’t know,” he said with a low chuckle I felt deep inside. “Did you take me bowling to seduce me, Ms. Brooks?”
“Seduce you?” I held up a purple ball, checking out the swirl of glitter as I turned it. “That implies you need tempting.”
Lear chose his own ball but didn’t step toward our lane. Instead, he moved his lips near my ear. “So you’re not trying to seduce me?”
His whisper in my ear made butterflies flutter in my stomach in the most comfortable way I’d ever been uncomfortable with. For a second, I lost myself and considered sinking against him, because it was kind of sexy, but it was familiar, too. I took a small step back, because we were in a bowling alley and not a dark corner. “If I wanted you, I could have you anytime and anywhere, and we both know it. My only goal today is to provide you with another embarrassing loss.”
His lips grazed my ear, and his fingers brushed my lower back before he whispered again. “Will you seduce me if I win?”
My face heated, but I shook it off. Not even Lear was worth attempting a sexual encounter in this bowling alley’s bathroom. The idea of negotiating a prize was tempting, though. I stepped back and placed my hand on his chest, meeting his eyes and willing my heart to stop whatever it was spinning. “I’ve never thought about the possibility of you winning.” I pushed him gently and strode toward the ball return for our lane. When I looked over my shoulder, he hadn’t moved, but he grinned. “But on the off chance that happens, maybe.”
•••
AFTER EIGHT FRAMES,it was clear no one was going to be scouting us for a bowling league. He was up to throw, and I watched him size up the pins, letting myself drink in his bent form as the ball careened smoothly into the gutter. He clapped his hands together the same way he did after every frame, like a disappointed punctuation mark. “How are we both so bad at this?”
“Speak for yourself,” I said, gently pushing his shoulder as we passed in the lane.
“Oh, your forty-three speaks for youjustfine.”
I glanced over my shoulder and narrowed my eyes. I really didn’t enjoy others seeing me not succeed at something, but this felt so low-stakes, I couldn’t bring myself to hold the scowl. Lear wasn’tsomeone I worried over seeing me not at my best. “I wasn’t sure it could be heard over your thirty-seven.”
Lear was leaning against the score console, arms crossed, revealing his forearms under the rolled sleeves of the button-up. He looked so good when he leaned like that, the muscles along his torso stretched. He smiled at my gibe, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. I’d had more fun than I’d thought I would. When he smiled, I smiled back—it was automatic, and it was genuine. Even when I turned to the lane and lined up my shot, I was smiling.My God. Lear makes me smile.
I rolled my shoulders, uncomfortable with the realization, and stepped forward to launch my ball down the lane. I waited for it to veer into the gutter, but it stayed center.
“You’re gonna get a strike,” Lear called out from behind me.
“Yeah, right.” Still the ball kept going down the center line. “No way.”
