Max, however, didn’t push for a response because I guess, deep down, he realized my fear. He simply pressed his lips to my brow and took my hand again. “C’mon, dancing girl, let’s go have fun. It’s too nice a day to let crap ruin it.”
As we walked, I sifted through what I was feeling. Despite being thrown off guard by seeing Devyn again, I understood that the pain and hurt were more from a faded memory, one I’d hung onto. What Simi had revealed last night—whether she and Devyn were banging each other for months, or not—no longer mattered.
As Max led me to the far side of the massive grounds, I studied his handsome profile, the straight nose, the hard, sculptured jaw, and the small scar there, and those cool, green eyes that didn’t miss a thing. Prickles danced down my arms as the truth hit me. If I hadn’t caught Devyn with his pants down, I wouldn’t be here with Max. I’d probably be married and trying to live up to Devyn’s expectations…while he continued his affair.
Suddenly, I was so grateful. No matter the pain and hurt I’d lived through, here was where I wanted to be. With Max. Where the future led, I had no idea. Yes, I was scared, but my trust issues were something I had to work through on my own.
Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t pay much attention when we joined a queue. Max paid the entrance fees. The next minute, he slipped a bulging cotton satchel crosswise over my shoulder to lie against my opposite hip. Frowning, I glanced around, and at the paint-soaked grinning bunch of teens leaving the makeshift paintball arena, I hastily stepped back. “Oh, no—no way, Max. I’m not going in there.”
“Scared?” He cocked a provocative eyebrow. “Just think, here’s your chance to bash me over the head for coming after you, not giving you the chance to say no.”
Bash him? I wanted to yank him down and kiss him for standing up for me, for making me see so clearly. I rolled my eyes. “You had every intention of getting your way.”
Smirking, he slung on his own satchel filled with paint-filled balloons over his shoulder. “True. Here are the rules, dancing girl. The one with the most balloons and paint on them loses.”
“And the penalty is?”
A wicked grin shaped his mouth, as if I’d already lost. “I’ll think of something later. What’s yours?”
“I’ll let you know then, too.” I snuck a hand into my satchel, grabbed a balloon, and slammed him square in the chest. It popped. Blue paint ran down his gray shirt. Laughing, I danced back.
He looked up. “Oh, Logan, you’re in so much trouble.”
Grabbing a balloon from his bag, he came after me. With a squeak, I spun around and ran, cutting left and hiding behind a huge bale of hay. Max’s balloon made contact with the straws, splattering all over the hay and sprinkling me with green blobs. Water paint. Thank God. At least it would wash off easily.
Crouching and keeping low, I ducked behind another bale, pulled out a balloon, and circled the haystack—and came face to face with a smirking Max.
With a yelp, I flung mine, hitting him in the hip—yeah, lousy aim. I wheeled around, and his next balloon whacked me on my butt.
Pivoting, I glowered at him. Another landed on my chest. It didn’t sting, but dammit, I was wet. How the heck did he get his to break so fast? Mine had just bounced off him.
I grimaced at the yellow paint running down my shorts and legs and into my black sneakers. God only knew what color my backside was.
At his low laughter, I pulled out another and smacked him dead in the groin.
“There. Now you get to look like a rainbow, too.” Grinning, I pelted him with two more. His jeans were no longer blue, but turning into a lovely purple fusion of dripping red and blue.
At his narrowed eyes, cheering gleefully, I sprinted off and secreted myself between two bales. Then I checked my satchel. Four left. Max still had more weapons than me, but I was smeared with a lot more paint. But, hey, I was winning…I hoped.
“Gotcha!”
“Eeep!” Shrieking, I jerked back and fell on my ass, landing on an open bale of hay.
Max approached me like a darn predator, bouncing another balloon in his hand, sporting a Machiavellian grin.
The brilliant move of evasion I’d been gloating over died a sudden death. There was no way I could escape him. Damn, I’d trapped myself in a dead-end zone, cornered by stacks of hay all around, and Max blocked my only escape. Eyes squeezed tightly, I waited for the slam.
When nothing happening, I opened one eye and found him hunkered down in front of me.
“Do you really think I’d mess up a defenseless girl?”
I sat up straighter. Hope renewed. “You won’t?”
“Absolutely…” He squirted the green paint over my hair, chest, and arms instead. Laughter bearing down on me, I grabbed a balloon and slammed it on his head. It didn’t break.
“Gah, I should have had a pin or—”
“—a buckle, like me.” With a wicked smile that made my insides go warm, he lifted his shirt, indicating the dull silver buckle of his paint-splattered belt, giving me a brief glimpse of washboard abs that I desperately wanted to run my tongue over.
