“Shut it,” Eli grumbles, even though he winks at me.
Blushing, I stand and wipe my sweaty hands against my jeans. “All right. My turn.”
“Try not to miss!” Walker calls out as I grab my bowling ball and take my stance.
I stick my tongue out at him over my shoulder before I draw in a deep breath.
I line myself up with the lane. I place my feet exactly where they need to be: shoulder width apart, with my lead foot just ever so slightly ahead. I draw in a deep breath and look past the strobing lights and bright colors along the walls.
Before I take four steps and send my ball down the aisle.
“Strike!” I exclaim when all of the pins tumble down. I turn around and hold my arms out. “See, gentlemen? That’s how it’s done.”
Eli gives me a set of high fives. Knox stands and gives me a hug. But it’s Walker who stands and unbuttons the cuffs at his wrists.
Before he rolls his sleeves up to his elbows.
Revealing a set of forearm veins that make me salivate.
I watch as Walker lines himself up. He takes a moment with the ball poised in front of him, and for a moment, he reminds me of one of those Greek statues. A man carved out of stone beneath those suit pants and that button-front shirt. His leather belt, glistening with the lights flashing all around us.
I bet he’s nothing but chiseled muscle beneath those clothes.
Then Walker takes a step. Another. Three gigantic steps before he seats himself low and follows through with his arm. He’s got good form, I’ll give him that. I watch as the ball soars down the middle, not deviating by an inch.
“That’s a strike,” I say just before the ball hits the pins.
And they all go tumbling down, one after another.
“Oh-ho-ho, man,” Knox says as he gets up for his turn again. “It’s going to be a good night tonight, everyone.”
“Anyone want some fries?” Eli asks as he gets up.
“I’ll take some, sure,” I say, looking up at him.
He smiles down at me. “Walker? You want anything?”
“Maybe a slice of that pizza, if Bea’s got any that are hot and ready.”
“Oh, hell yeah,” Knox says as he turns away from his shot, the ball moving down the aisle to only knock down two pins. “A slice of pizza for me, too.”
Eli points at him. “Two slices of pizza and a bunch of fries, coming up. I’ll get us a pitcher of Coke, too.”
The rounds continue and pins fly. Shoes squeak against the polished floor and I swear, Knox keeps us laughing until my stomach hurts. Eli comes back with food, and we take breaks in between sets, munching and chatting about everything and nothing.
Walker is his quiet self, keeping up with me, strike for strike. Every time I look over at him, his eyes are already on me, and heat curls in my belly every time our gazes connect.
Things feel comfortable with the three of them. I don’t hate that.
“Nice curve, Alley Cat,” Eli says after my fifth strike.
“Thanks, handsome,” I fire back before my mouth checks itself.
Eli blushes, and it makes me smile. I like that I can affect him that way.
“Well, well, well,” Knox says as our first frame is tallied up. “Looks like Walker and Sunshine here are tied.”
“That won’t do,” Walker says as he stands. “Tie-breaker game?”
