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He laughed. “Right after I leave the apartment from having my winner’s dinner,” he tossed over his shoulder and disappeared.
“So what’s our strategy?” one of the teens asked, securing his gear. When everyone looked at me, I fumbled for words to say.
“What, am I the captain or something?”
“Why not?” an older guy asked. I took in our surroundings, making note of the places that made good hiding spots.
“Stay out of sight and buddy up with someone. There are six of us, so we can easily split into three pairs. You need someone watching your back at all times. Stay quiet and don’t run around too much or you’ll be an easy target,” I instructed.
“I’m partnering with the hot one,” one of the adult guys said, moving over to stand next to me. Once everyone linked up with a teammate, we all crouched down behind a wall and waited for the countdown.
The room was dark and a bit stuffy; the only thing visible was the neon lights on the walls and the lights on my teammates’ vests. A fog machine went off in the distance as the countdown went out, signaling the start of the game. A couple of my teammates rushed in front of me, darting between the walls and looking around.
I waved my arm to direct my partner to move. We weaved between a couple of walls and moved deeper into the arena.
“So are you single?” my partner asked. I ducked behind a short wall as I saw an enemy player passing. Not close enough to take a shot.
“Are you?” he asked again.
I swatted him away. “Will you hush before you blow our position?”
“Sorry. I’d just like to—”
“I’m here with someone if that answers your question,” I spat in a low tone.
“Yeah, she is,” a deep voice said just as my vest vibrated.
I turned around to see O’Shea dashing off behind a wall. “Fuck!” I gritted, pounding the floor with my fist as I stood and followed behind him, forgetting all about my partner. I took cautious steps, stood against walls, and climbed up stairs while ducking and dodging the enemy’s lasers. My partner soon caught up with me and luckily kept his mouth closed. We crept across the ramp and came across an enemy player hiding out behind a pillar.
I took a shot and ran away, giggling to myself when I heard them shriek. The game continued and I shot a few more people, never seeming to hit or find O’Shea. Soon enough, a deep robotic voice announced, “Game over.” We all filed out of the arena and returned our gear before going out to look at the scoreboard.
O’Shea let out a content sigh and puffed his chest out. “So what type of wine should I grab on the way home for my winner’s dinner?” he asked.
I frowned, rereading the score of 1200 to 970. Why did I make another bet with him again?
“Oh ha ha ha. You’re still a loser,” I said, sticking my tongue out at him. Lust flashed in his eyes so fast that I almost missed it. He blinked and replaced the look of desire on his face with a playful expression.
“The scoreboard doesn’t say that,” he said, draping an arm around my shoulder and turning me around. “What would you like to do now?”
“You choose since I chose laser tag.”
He looked around for a few moments. “How about mini golf?”
“I don’t know how to play.”
“No worries, I’ll show you,” he said, steering me toward the courses.
∞∞∞
Once we were on the course, he hit the ball and bit his lip as he looked on to see where his ball would end up. When the ball went into the hole, he nodded and turned to me.
“That’s how a pro does it. Since you’re not a pro just yet, I’ll help you,” he said.
I waved him off. “Oh, shut up. This course is a straight shot,” I said with a giggle. He moved to stand behind me and put his arms around me, placing his hands over mine to steady them. The closeness of his body made me tingle, butterflies appearing in my stomach again.
“Now this isn’t like golf. You don’t have to swing like Tiger Woods just to get the ball in the hole. Just a slight nudge,” he said, moving my arm back a little and swinging forward, sending the ball along. The ball inched its way to the hole, creeping so slow that I thought it wouldn’t go in. I squealed when it fell in, jumping into his arms as I hugged him. It wasn’t until his arms encircled me that I realized what I’d done, feeling awkward in an instant.
I pulled away and cleared my throat. “Sorry, just got a little excited,” I murmured, moving on to the next hole. When he attempted to help me again, I declined. My hormones bounced all over the place and were on the verge of betraying me. I didn’t need him giving me more reasons to lose control. He held his hands up and stepped to the side as I hit the ball, stifling a chuckle as it went past the hole.
