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With that in mind, I carefully put some space between us, despite the screaming urge to lean closer. He caught the movement and winced, realizing how close he’d moved. Shifting his chair back, he grimaced.
“I’m sorry. Sara likes to tease that I’m overprotective at the best of times, but I can understand why you wouldn’t wantanyman looming over you.”
The contriteness to his eyes swept affection through me before I doused it again. “It’s fine; I can use a few more protective people in my life.” Then I squeezed his hand and looked out at the machines, desperately needing a change of subject.
“I think I’m alright to try one of them, if you’ll show me how they work?”
He didn’t comment on the subject shift, instead getting up with a nod. “Of course.” The first one I gravitated toward was a pinball one. He grinned at it, putting in some quarters before nudging me in front.
“This one's a classic. There are buttons here,” he tapped them gently, “that will control the flaps at the bottom.” He pointed at said flaps, and then continued. “Use the buttons to knock the ball up into the machine. The goal is not to let the ball fall past the flaps. Got it?”
I’d played pinball before–admittedly in an app–but I appreciated the non-judgemental explanation. “Got it,” I said, focusing on the ball as I bounced it off the flaps. I held out admirably well, but after a few minutes it fell through, and the machine spat out tickets.
He smiled, handing me them. “Looks like you got the hang of it. Do you want to go to a different machine?”
I eyed the others before shaking my head. “I don’t see any that jump out at me. What do you want to do?”
Immediately he grinned, moving for the air hockey table. “Would the lady care for a game? I promise to take it easy on you.” He teased, and I ignored the flutter that went through me at his new nickname.
Picking up the handheld plastic thing, I huffed. “I’d hope you’d take it easy on me since I have no idea how to play this.” Well, I understood the basics, but I’d never actually played it before.
He tapped his own plastic guard on the table. “It’s easy; once we start, we’ll have a puck. The goal is to guard your goal,” he gestured to the long, thin hole behind my hands, “and get the puck through mine.” His grin didn’t shift as he tipped his head. “Ready to try?”
I nodded, watching as he put the quarters in and a puck slid out of the machine. When it hit the table, the game was on. The first few rounds were laughably bad on my part, and he was four points ahead in five minutes, but after that I started getting the hang of it.
Catching up wasn’t easy, but just as the buzzer sounded I managed to make the point to tie us. Setting the plastic guard to the side, I grinned. “I may not have won, but neither did you.”
He tipped his head in agreement. “That was pretty good for someone who hasn’t played before.” Before I could respond, Sara’s voice cut in.
“She’s never been to an arcade, and you con her into playing air hockey with you? How ungentlemanly.”
She nudged his shoulder playfully, but he snorted, waving to the scoreboard. “As you can see, she held up just fine.”
Sara glanced at it and rolled her eyes. “You were taking it easy. Put in another round, and let’s show her what your best looks like.”
The open challenge all but sparked like lightning between them, and he grunted. “You’re on.” Stepping back, I watched as the timer counted down, the puck sitting in the middle, and then the buzzer went off and they were both a blur.
Sharp cracks of the puck hitting the sides of the machine came, the sound repeating seemingly every second as they jumped into the game with gusto. I watched in stunned silence, taking in how fast they each moved.
She hadn’t been kidding about him taking it easy! If he’d used that kind of strength when hitting the puck toward me, I probably would have walked away with a bruised hand.
Sara kept up and gave as good as she got, and by the time the buzzer sounded again, Oliver was in the lead by one point.
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t let it get to your head. It’s been a long time since I played, so I’m rusty.”
Oliver grinned, shaking his head. “No need to be a sore loser, Sara. Mom taught us better.”
I could all but see her temper spike as she pointedly tapped the table again. “Alright, best two out of three if you’re not scared.”
Oliver snuck a glance my way, then shook his head. “Take it easy. We can come back for this challenge later; it isn’t nice to leave Jen bored while we duke it out.”
Sara deflated, but before she could walk away, I chipped in. “Actually, this is fun to watch, so I’m happy to sit here while you two play.”
She perked back up, snatching up the plastic guard and nodding. “Perfect, now get your butt back here so we can continue, Oliver!”
He spared a look my way, then shook his head with a sigh. “You’ve done it now. We won’t be leaving until she’s won her little tournament.”
And sure enough, the siblings kept up the rounds until, nearly an hour later, Sara won one. She cheered and I chuckled, pointedly not mentioning how many matches she’d lost to get to this point. Oliver didn’t either; instead, he walked away from the machine with a soft laugh.
