The racing sims are next, calling to me with pulsing lights and engines revving. I pick a red car, while he picks a black one.
He glances over, “What are the stakes?”
I hum, “Loser owes the winner a favor.”
Luca offers his hand and we shake on it. The countdown beeps and we take off. He’s fast, weaving through traffic with practiced ease. But I’m faster. When I drift around the last corner and cross the finish line with a photo finish. My laughter fills the space between us as the screen flashes WINNER.
Luca handsme a putter with a flourish. “Ladies first.”
I place the pink ball on the stand and tap the ball gently. It rolls up a ramp, then rolls back toward me.
“Well, I think I can say with confidence that golf is not my thing.”
Luca laughs, then lines up his ball.
He hits the ball so hard it flies off the ramp and disappears into the bushes.
“…That didn’t count,” he says firmly.
We make our way through the course. Luca pretends tobe a golf pro, me somehow making accidental trick shots here and there. Both of us laughing so much I’m convinced I’ll have abs in the morning.
By the last hole, a giant windmill, he steps behind me, hands brushing my hip, guiding my stance.
“Relax your shoulders,” he murmurs, warm breath skimming my ear.
My heart stutters. His scent is warm and woody, with a subtle spicy note. I’m aware of every part of my body that’s touching his. The heat radiating from him, soaking through my clothes into my skin. He gently pulls my arms back and swings forward.
I sink the shot instantly.
Luca steps back, grinning. “I got that magic touch.” He winks, and my mind jumps back to the bath.
My cheeks heat, betraying me. He chuckles, pulling me into his arms.
To end the night, he insists on my first game of laser tag.
Fog curls along the floor in ghostly waves. Blacklights pulse from the rafters. Neon barriers glow radioactive green.
My vest lights up blue, fog curling around my legs as I step between glowing walls.
A laser hits my vest. Dead-on.
I spin. Nothing. Another shot, another hit.
He’s hunting me.
“Luca,” I whisper.
A low murmur slides against the back of my neck.
“Hi, pretty girl.”
I don’t even get the chance to turn. His hand skims my hip first, barely there, but enough to send every nerve firing. His chest brushes my back.
“You’re cheating again,” I breathe.
“Definitely.” His breath hits my ear, warm and smug. “Only way to catch you.”
I whirl, lifting my blaster. He catches my wrist mid-movement, pinning my arm above my head against the glowing wall. It forces me up on my toes.
