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Blake snickers. “You’re punny. Adorable.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” I tell him. Moving beside me, he places his hand on the small of my back as we walk toward the building. My eyes light up when we enter, and I’m so damn excited I can barely contain it. Beer and wings are on one side, and axes with giant targets are on the other. In the middle of the room is a stage, and tables are placed all around where a pop culture trivia is being played. Blake leads me over to the main game area where we sign waivers. Then one of the experts named Charlie teaches us the proper way to play. Each group has their own lane and behind is a private bartop to socialize and drink. It reminds me of a bowling alley but with sharp objects and targets.
Charlie explains some of the rules—only one ax can be tossed at a time, spectators need to stay in the lounge area, and having fun is a requirement. “Who’s up first?” he asks, looking back and forth between us.
I step up.
“Okay, so you’re going to hold the handle with both hands and cross your thumbs like this to keep it steady. Now, you’ll want to point the blade at the bull’s-eye, then lift it all the way over your head and bring it forward with all your weight. When it gets to your forehead, let go, but make sure you’re standing behind the yellow line.”
At first, I take a few practice holds, making sure my grip isn’t too tight, then Charlie exits and I decide to go for it. Doing exactly as he said, I put all my body weight into it, and the ax flies and sticks right in the center.
“I told you!” I tell Blake, laughing. This is one of the coolest places.
Charlie gives me a high five. “You’re a natural. Damn. And in a dress and heels too. You should join the tournament.”
I playfully roll my eyes, and Charlie smiles. I’m almost certain he’s flirting with me right in front of Blake, who looks at him murderously.
“Alright, my turn,” Blake says, giving me a wink and bringing the attention back to him. I leave the playing area and stand at the bartop as Blake throws.
“Lucky shot!” I tell him as it lands in the middle. “You’re so going down,” I taunt.
We thank Charlie, and then he’s on his way to help other players.
“I think he might have a crush on you,” Blake jokes, but I hear the discontent in his tone.
I flip my hair and giggle. “I’d be too much for him to ax-tually handle.”
Blake snickers at another one of my lame puns, which is cute he plays along. I want to be with a man who I can be myself around and not some version I think he wants. What he sees is what he gets. “Damn, woman. You might be too much for me to handle,” Blake says in a low tone, causing goose bumps to trail over my arms as he pulls me close. My breath hitches because I haven’t reacted to a man like this since Liam kissed me. Part of me feels guilty, like I’m betraying him, which is so fucked up. Ugh, I push the thoughts away.
“Ready to lose?” I ask him confidently.
He scoffs playfully. “After I get us some drinks. What would you like?”
“Whatever you’re having. I’m not picky.” I pick up the ax and take a few more practice shots. It’s like darts but with a bigger object, and I can kick anyone’s ass at that game. I do a one-handed toss and miss just as Blake walks up with two beers. Smiling, I walk to the bar top and sit on one of the tall stools.
“I booked the lane for an hour, then thought we could order some food afterward.” He takes a sip of his beer, and I do the same.
“Sounds perfect. Guess that means we should start playing. How do we keep score?” I meet his kind blue eyes that seem to sparkle when he looks my way, and I study his face.
He grabs a pencil and the scorecard that has the instructions on the back. Three rounds, ten throws each. The person with the highest score wins. Sounds easy enough. I drink a gulp of my beer as Blake goes to the playing area. I can’t help but watch the way his biceps flex as he holds the handle, then swings, putting all his strength into it. The blade splits the big red circle…bull’s-eye again.
“Seriously? That was a lucky shot.” My mouth falls open. “You’re gonna make me work for this win, aren’t you?” I rub my palms together and crack my knuckles as if that’ll help me.
His head falls back with a laugh, and he shrugs. “You’re the one who started talking smack. I was prepared to let you win, but now I think I better actually try.”
