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“Thanks.” I positioned myself in front of the wall adorned with balloons, raising the first dart, eyes fixed on the targets.
Oliver sidled up, his warm breath caressing my ear. “Had the most interesting dream about you last night, Grace. Checked into a hotel, and surprise, surprise, there was only one bed. Quite the scandal.”
My initial throw missed the mark, bouncing off the wall and narrowly avoiding the employee’s foot. I kept my composure, ignoring the effect of Oliver’s proximity and his words.
With the second dart in hand, I aimed for the red balloon. I did my best to not think of the one bed in the hotel and focus on the target. My dumb brain took it a step further, and I imagined myself walking in on him in the shower.
My second dart veered left, impaling a stuffed pelican.
I huffed, crossing my arms in frustration, though Oliver’s amused expression made it hard to be upset with him.
“Is cheating the only way you can win?” I quipped.
“I didn’t even say anything that time!” Oliver raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll be silent as a church mouse. Promise.”
I took my time as I focused my aim on the green balloon, but it really didn’t matter. The vision of Oliver in the shower still lingered in my brain.
My third and final dart sailed wide right.
The balloons remained unscathed, taunting my lack of accuracy.
Oliver flashed a confident grin, swaggering up to the line and collecting three darts from the employee. “Such a shame. I just need to hit the target once in three tries to win. It’s as easy as taking candy from a baby.”
I needed to take it a step further if I had any chance. It was time to get out of my comfort zone and show him he was messing with the wrong person.
Oliver took aim at the first balloon.
“Hang on—what is that?” I said, playfully closing the gap between us. I reached my hand up to his face, letting my fingers slide slowly across his cheek. “I swear, I spotted something on your face.” Tilting my head, I lingered inches from his mouth. “Your skin is like velvet. I can’t resist touching it.” My hand casually dropped to his chest, and I drummed my fingers lightly. “But hey, don’t mind me. It’s your turn to dazzle with those darts. Good luck.”
Oliver shot me a glare, swallowed hard, and then tossed the dart. It ended up sticking into the wall far from any balloons.
“Oh, what a pity,” I said, wincing. “That wasn’t even close.”
“I still have two more,” Oliver replied, his confidence undeterred. He raised the second dart to eye level. “Let’s finish this.”
Closing in with a playful smirk, I murmured, “Great plan. Hey, do you have any Chapstick? I’ve been licking my lips a lot lately.”
His second dart flew far right and bounced off the fire extinguisher on the wall with a resounding clank, then dropped to the floor.
“Uh-oh,” I teased. “One dart left. Feeling the pressure?”
“I can handle it,” he declared.
“Confidence suits you,” I nodded. “And I won’t mention a thing about the dream I had of us in a hot tub.”
This time, Oliver remained unfazed.
He released the dart into the carnival breeze, hit the orange balloon with a satisfying pop, then turned to me with a triumphant grin. “Looks like I win, Grace. Again.”
I huffed, incredulous. “How did that not distract you? We were in a hot tub together, slipping and sliding!”
Oliver shook his head, chuckling. “Maybe it would’ve worked if I hadn’t had a similar dream two nights ago.”
His playful confession blindsided me.
“Come on—time to paint your face,” he added, grabbing my hand and walking with me.
That’s right, we were holding hands.
