“We’ll start easy,” he says, stopping in front of thePacMangame. “Eat the fruit. Avoid the ghosts.”
“I know howPac-Manworks.” I bump him to the side with my hip. “Move aside and let a natural show you how it’s done.”
He lets out a playful growl and grabs my hip, pressing himself against my back as he bends down to swipe the token card he loaded up at the front kiosk. I can feel his length pressing against me and I bite my lip as heat pulses between my legs and I rub my thighs together to try and ease the growing ache.
No, no! He’s just trying to distract me, the sexy fiend. I need to focus on the little yellow ball man in front of me.
The game starts and Zander stays pressed up behind me as I play, but I wiggle against him and remain laser-focused on the game.
When I get a high score, I look back and up at him with a triumphant smile.
“Okay,” he murmurs, his brow furrowed in shock. “So I guess you’ve done this before?”
I shrug. “It’sPac-Man, dude. I may not be a gamer bro like you, but I know my way around some good old fashioned pixelated fun.”
Laughing, he wraps an arm around my shoulders and presses a kiss to my temple.
“All right, smart ass,” he says. “Let’s try something a little more challenging then.”
We play our way through the arcade, trying out nearly every game there is including ski ball andDance, Dance, Revolution, which I totally kick Zander’s ass at. He wows me with his gaming prowess on some of the more complicated machines, and I end up having way more fun than I’d ever have thought I’d have in an arcade.
It’s only when the mall starts closing down that we force ourselves to leave.
“Oh, my God,” I laugh as we make our way outside to the truck. “I gotta admit, that was an excellent first date.”
“I’m glad you’re having fun,” he replies. “But it’s not over yet. Now that we’ve worked up an appetite, it’s time for me to feed you.”
My stomach grumbles and I realize just how hungry I really am.
“I could eat,” I shrug nonchalantly.
“Good.” He opens my door for me. “Get your pretty ass in the truck, then.”
I comply and he drives us away from the mall and back toward downtown. When he pulls up in front of a lovely little French bistro, I give him yet another surprised look.
“You continue to surprise me,” I murmur.
“I’m a man of many layers,” he smirks. “Shall we?”
I nod and we make our way inside. The bistro is small and charming, with a main dining area with tables of varying sizes,rattan chairs, a black and white tiled floor, and vintage art hanging on the walls.
A waiter leads us to a table for two tucked away in the corner. Zander orders us wine and black olive tapenade.
“I’ll also take the steak frites,” he tells the waiter.
“And I’ll have the quiche Lorraine,” I say.
“Very good.” The waiter jots down our order and turns to go, leaving us alone again.
I gaze at Zander, stunned. “I’ve never really had French food before.”
He looks suddenly uncertain. “I, uh, thought it would be kind of romantic… like in the movies… ”
Smiling, I reach across the table and lay my hand over his. “I like it. This place is really cute..”
He appears relieved.
“So, how does a big strong hockey pro like you gain a taste for French cuisine, anyway?” I ask.
