It starts simple. A meme. A video of me trying to eat flaming hot cheetos and regretting everything. But soon it turns into an all-out texting spree. Every message makes me laugh harder, blush deeper, feel moreseen.
We’re basically middle schoolers on a three-way call, minus the third wheel and the curly phone cords.
By the time the sun starts threatening to rise, my cheeks ache from smiling and my heart’s doing stupid things like hoping. And for the first time in a long time, I go to sleep feeling like maybe—just maybe—I won’t mess this up.
Chapter Nineteen
EVEREST
I should’ve knownI’d met my match when she strutted into the laser tag arena wearing black jeans, a crop top, and hightop Converses. If that didn’t give it away, the shit eating grin on her face should have. I thought this would be fun, racing around, trying to avoid being hit and playing the knight in shining armor. But I sorely underestimated her skills.
Cove taps the sensor panel on her vest, squinting at me like she’s sizing up prey. “Hope you stretched, Everest. I’d hate to beat you too easily. I at least want you to make me work for the win.” She winks.
I snort, loud and embarrassingly. “Do you really think I’m afraid of losing? You’re five-foot-nothing. I can literally pick you up and move you.”
She steps closer. Way too close. My breath catches and my cock hardens. “Do it, then.”
When her tongue slips out her mouth, gliding across her lower lip as she gazes up at me though her mascara heavy lashes, my brain short-circuits. The arena lights flicker neon blue across her cheekbones, and her smirk is pure chaos.
“You cannot weaponize flirting,” I tell her.
“I can and I will,” she says smugly, batting her eyes playfully.
Before I can respond, the buzzer blares and the game starts. Cove takes off in a dash, disappearing into the maze like a gremlin who thrives in darkness. I chase after her, already sweating, already way too focused on the sound of her laugh bouncing off the walls. I don't even care if I win, I’ve already won the best prize. Her.
I move through the maze, lights flashing on my face as I listen for her laughter. We’re the only ones playing and I love it. Then I see it. A flash of her pink hair; she’s squatted down behind a glowing barricade. Just as I’m about to round a corner to come up behind her, she pops up. The gun aimed right at my chest, the shining light making a bullseye over my heart.
“Oh look, a giant target.” That’s all she says before firing her gun. A dead hit.
“Cheating,” I grumble. Truth be known, I'm a sore loser.
“Winning,” she corrects, already sprinting away. I give her a ten second head start and then I’m rushing off in the same direction. She got one shot. I refuse to let her get another.
The whole match continues like that—Cove popping out of the shadows, tagging me, laughing when I curse for her outwitting me. At one point she jumps onto my back, reaches over my shoulder, contorting her arm to aim the gun at my chest and fires again. If it hadn’t been for her warm breath on my ear I could have gotten free and shot her. But why would I not want to feel her body wrapped around mine.
When our time is up, we stumble out of the room, sweaty, out of breath, and laughing like idiots. Other than the carnival this has so far been one of the best days of my life and I don’t plan to let it end anytime soon. And when she opens her mouth I know she doesn’t either.
“Food?” she asks, pushing a strand of hair off her forehead.
“On two conditions,” I tell her.
“And they are?” she asks coyly.
“First, you promise not to shoot me during dinner.” I laugh, knowing it’s not what I really want to say. I just want to loosen her up before I ask for what I want. There’s only one thing I really want to know.
“No promises on that. And the second?”
“Second... you promise this isn’t just a one-time thing.”
That makes her go still for a second.
“I’m not saying I’m proposing or anything,” I add quickly, nervous as hell now. “But I’d like to keep seeing you. Without pretending it’s just about the game or the fantasy or… any of that.”
Cove looks at me for a long moment. Then she tips her head and offers the softest damn smile I’ve ever seen.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” she says. “But only if you promise not to ghost me after I kick your ass again next time.”
“Deal,” I say, holding out my hand.
