I hadn’t even done the casually expose my shoulder and all the good cleavage thing yet, and when he straightened, smile spreading, I wanted to build a shrine to the cardigan.
“Sunshine,” he said, setting a hand on his chest and giving me a slow shake of his head, “you look incredible.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
After one last lingering glance, he made a quiet, appreciative humming sound, like he’d just eaten something delicious. The sound hit me square in the solar plexus—a veritable punch to the chest—because I couldn’t help but imagine that same sound against my lips. Dominic popped open the passenger door and held out his hand to help boost me up into the tall truck. After a quick, nervous swallow, I slid my fingers against his rough palm.
Gaze steady, he helped me up, then he brought my hand to his lips, dropping a soft kiss onto my knuckles.
It was unaccountably charming and so sweetly unexpected that my face burned hot as he carefully closed the door.
Dominic climbed into the driver’s seat with ease, his long legs and broad frame settling into the truck while I tried very, very hard not to look like I was ogling every friggin’ inch of him.
“Do I get a hint now?” I asked.
He turned the key, the engine roaring to life as he flashed me a white-toothed smile, broader than I’d ever seen from him outside of when he played football with the kids at the center.
This version of him, even though I’d been in his presence for about two point two minutes, was so infectious, I could feel his energy soak into me like a sponge.
“Hmm.” He pulled the truck out of the parking lot, heading away from the highway. So we weren’t going downtown. “If you’re even a little bit as competitive as I think you are, you’ll like what I have planned.”
“That’s my hint?”
He laughed quietly. “No sports. But I still need to see your skills.”
I found myself leaning forward in my seat, watching the scenery, waiting to see where he’d turn the truck next. The ride was quiet but not uncomfortable, and I found that I liked it.
“Dinner first?” I asked. “Or after I kick your butt in whatever this unnamed competition is?”
He took a left, slowing the car as we approached a parking lot with a few large warehouse-style buildings set back off the road. “One-stop shop tonight, Miss Pierson.”
I squinted as we approached the building farthest back, giving him a surprised look. “An arcade?”
For the first time since I exited the building, Dominic looked nervous as he assessed my reaction. “An arcade.”
The parking lot was empty. “There’s no one here.”
He shut off the truck and hopped out, jogging in front of the vehicle to grab my door before I could get out. Again, he held out his hand, and this time, I didn’t hesitate to wrap my fingers around his. Stepping carefully out of the tall truck, I gave him a quick smile.
“Are you sure it’s open?” I asked.
Without responding, Dominic set a big hand between my shoulder blades and guided me toward the entrance. His total refusal to tell me anything had me vibrating with anticipation, and I wondered if he could feel it seeping out of my body where he touched me.
He dropped his hand just long enough to pull open a door. “After you,” he said.
It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the room because it was dark with bright flashing lights and loud dinging, random bells and whistles from the various games filling the massive space. In the center was a circular table, set with a clean white tablecloth, two place settings, and two empty wineglasses.
I gave him a shocked look. As I did, he produced a bucket from a small side table next to the door that I hadn’t seen. When I took it from his hands, it was filled with tokens.
“Where shall we start?” he asked.
“You rented out the whole arcade?”
Carefully, Dominic lifted one of those big hands and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. His eyes burned so bright with heat, but he did nothing except lightly drag the tip of his finger along the shell of my ear. “Can’t have any witnesses if you annihilate me, now can I?”
My answering smile was huge and immediate. Because it was exactly, perfectly, precisely the kind of first date I would’ve planned.
It took every shred of self-control not to grip his face in my hands and stamp my mouth over his. Let him slide his tongue into my mouth to see what he tasted like.
The thought was so unexpected, so potent, that I had to wonder if I was losing my mind.
“Where shall we start?” I asked.
Dominic pursed his lips, glancing around the arcade. “I think I can take you in skeeball.”
“Ha,” I said. As I started in that direction, I let my shoulder move just so, and the cardigan slid down my arm. With a quick glance at him, there was no escaping the way his eyes were frozen on the tiny strap holding up my bustier. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. And I curled my lips in a victorious smile. “You have no idea what you just started, hotshot.”
Dominic
After the slaughtering that took place at the skeeball game, my only defense—as a professional athlete whose job it was to have good hand-eye coordination—was that she could have only beaten me because of how badly she had my head spinning.
More than once, when it was my turn to throw the small wooden ball up the ramp, she’d move or shift in a completely innocent way, or she’d laugh at something I said, and all over again, I was struck dumb.
Faith Pierson, much to my surprise, showed up for our date. There was no hint of reticence and no part of her held in reserve. And it wasn’t like going on a date with a groupie because I’d done that too. In college, it was stupidly easy to find someone to spend an evening with if you were a football player. It got even worse in the pros.
They draped themselves over you, whispering more and more outrageous things in your ear, in the hopes that you’d give them an hour of your time, a release, and a good story to tell their friends. All of it—while not without some flickering moments of pleasure—was so fucking empty.
In this big building, filled with games and lights and noises, was the least empty I’d felt in years, and it was because of her. Her smiles, so broad and happy, her laughter, which was unrestrained when she found something really, really funny, and her energy, which crackled around us like a force field.
“You’re not even trying,” she said around helpless laughter.
I blinked because with the useless bright blue plastic gun in my hand, she’d just kicked my ass in a military video game. “Yeah, well, I had no idea how violent you were when I asked you out.”
Faith slid me a look, dark eyebrow raised, and it had my own smile spreading. In fact, I’d smiled a lot since we arrived. And in general, there wasn’t a single person in my life who’d describe me as an overly happy person. But being around her like this was as intoxicating as anything I’d ever experienced.
It was hard to remind myself that she didn’t know she knew me as well as she did. But I could glance over at her—holding out that plastic gun attached to the machine with a big black cord, standing like she was Lara Croft—and know that this was the same woman who told me she cried every time she watched Animal Planet. That she never mastered a round-off back handspring even though she desperately fantasized about being a gymnast when she was little. That her favorite book is Little Women, but she hasn’t read it in years because it always made her so sad.
That was Turbo. And Faith had no idea that I knew those things.
But the sight of her smiling at me, laughing freely at this perfect evening we’d experienced, was a high I didn’t anticipate.
Her game finished, and she blew across the top of the gun like it was emitting a curling tendril of smoke.
I held my hands up. “I can’t compete,” I told her.
Faith slid the plastic gun back into the holder, turning slowly to rest against the game as she faced me. That sweater of h
ers was driving me insane. Every time she moved, it would shift off her shoulders, the sexiest fucking game of peek-a-boo I’d ever seen.
“So why the arcade?” she asked.
I tucked my hands into my pockets to keep from sliding them around her hips. “When I was a kid, it was my favorite place to spend a Saturday. My parents didn’t have much,” I admitted, “but if I pulled my fair share around the house all week, my dad would give me a buck or two, and I’d save every single one to go to the arcade around the block from where I grew up.”
She gave me a sweet smile. “I bet young Dominic was a troublemaker at a place like this.”
“I was a troublemaker in all ways,” I told her. “The owner used to kick me out on a regular basis, actually.”
“What was your favorite game?” She mimicked my posture, tucking her hands into her own pockets. Briefly, I saw her gaze linger on my mouth.
For the first time all night, I hesitated before answering. Because of our conversations as Nick and Turbo, she knew the answer to that question. About taking Ivy to the arcade and teaching her how to play pinball. She was terrible at it, unable to connect the lever to the small silver ball at the right time, but she loved to watch me play.
That building closed years ago, but the shell of it still remained with dingy, faded letters on the marquis. Turbo knew that too, because before it closed, I told her how I’d bought the pinball machine and had it sitting in my parents’ basement. Someday, I’d have a home for it, but my sleek Seattle apartment with floor-to-ceiling windows and ugly black furniture with no personality wasn’t it.
“My favorite game is whatever one I can win,” I said, the easiest answer I could think of without blatantly lying. I didn’t want to lie to Faith.
But I couldn’t help the tremendously sweet feeling of victory that she was like this with Dominic, not Nick.
“Typical athlete,” she answered with a slight roll of her eyes.
“You’d know.”
Faith sighed. “My dad is as competitive as they come. Most people who play the game are. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be very good.” She looked around the building. “But it seems like a hard way to live life if you ask me. It’s probably why I never wanted to follow in his footsteps. Aren’t we so much more than our wins and losses?”
“Sure,” I answered. “But we all seek out the wins and losses, just in different ways. Look at your job. You have definable things that tell you whether you’re doing what you should be, or what needs adjusting. It may not have a scoreboard like mine, but we all compete, day in and day out.”
She studied me carefully as I spoke, but it was hard to judge the look in her eye as we stood in a shadowed corner of the arcade. “That’s true. Maybe that’s why I…” She paused.
“What?”
Faith tucked a curled piece of hair behind her ear, a habit I understood because I wanted to do it constantly too. Maybe just because it allowed me a small piece of her until I knew she was ready for more.
It took her a moment to answer, but when she did, she tilted her head into the light, and I saw decision in those dark eyes. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this, but I think that’s why I struggled at first when I was promoted. I didn’t understand that competitive piece of it after being in the trenches of the day-to-day work for so long.” Her shoulders lifted in a dainty shrug. “Then I took over, and I had to figure out how to do things my way. It was hard at first, but I think I’m settled now. And I love it.”
There was caution in her big brown eyes, and I knew what a risk it was for her to admit it to me. The guy I’d been in Allie’s office, the worst of all my worst impulses and insecurities, would’ve held that admission over her head like a weapon. Admitting to feeling unsure in a job that had been handed to her because of who she was.
“You don’t like uncertainty, do you?” I asked.
Her mouth curled into an amused smile. “Who does?”
“Lots of people thrive in situations even when they have no fucking clue how it’ll play out. They’re the people who jump out of planes and off bridges and climb mountains without a rope.”
“Yeah, and they have some screws loose, if you ask me.” She made a self-deprecating noise. “But I guess that’s why I’ve never been the exciting Pierson sister. I love Lydia, and I love that she goes after what she wants like she does, but it’ll never be me. I think maybe I used to be that way,” she said quietly. “But even if I’m not, even if my life is less exciting than people assume it is, I’m okay with that.”
Carefully, I reached out and used the edge of my thumb to tilt her face back in my direction so I knew she couldn’t look away. Her chest rose on a sharp inhale, another reaction she couldn’t hide.
“I don’t think that makes you less, in any way,” I told her. “I think you’re pretty fucking incredible, actually.”
Instead of smiling or thanking me for saying it, the graceful arches of her brows bent in a confused V over those expressive eyes.
“What?” I asked. My thumb still touched the soft skin of her chin, and I let it fall at the look on her face.
“Why did you ask me out?” she whispered. “You hated me when we met that first day. And no matter how I turn it over in my head, I’m trying to figure out what changed your mind.”
The absolute forthright honesty made me grin because it would’ve been so easy for her to keep that thought to herself. How many people would’ve laid out such a vulnerable question on a first date? No one I knew. And in the back of my mind, I knew it was the perfect time to tell her who I was. To be just as vulnerable with her while we had this private arcade and no one to interrupt us. The angel on my shoulder was practically jamming his wings into my brain, trying to unscramble that impulse to follow this date through without being honest.
But I swatted it away because of exactly how she was looking up at me.
Faith Pierson wanted me to kiss her.
And I very much wanted, as Dominic Walker, to be the one who gave her whatever she desired. So I answered as honestly as possible, appeasing both impulses as best as I could.
“I misjudged you,” I told her. “And it would’ve been unfair to hold your background against you because I sure as hell hate when people do that to me.”
Again, it was written all over her face that she believed me, in the softening of her posture and the light in her eyes. Practically melting in my direction, Faith stood from where she was still leaning against the game, but instead of walking away, she took a step closer.
“And in the vein of honesty,” I told her quietly, “you should probably know that I want you, Faith Pierson.”
Faith sucked in a quick breath, eyes huge in her face.
Lifting my hand, I slid my fingers down a soft curl against her cheek and pushed it back. Her eyes fluttered shut, and just as I tilted my head down, anticipating that moment of first contact, imagining how sweet and soft her lips would be when they opened under mine…
But that was the exact moment the machine behind us went rogue, and a blaring whistle signaling the start of a new game had her eyes flying open.
Her smile spread widely, and I blew out a hard breath. Faith sank her forehead against my chest with a soft laugh, and I laid a hand along her back when the warm press of her body touched mine.
A throat clearing behind us interrupted the moment further. A deferential employee stood by the table.
“Is there anything else I can get you two?” she asked.
I shook my head. Instead of sitting at the table to enjoy the dinner, we’d carried pieces of pizza around the arcade while we played.
“Thank you,” I told her. “Is our time up?”
She gave me a polite smile. “Yeah, we have to start closing.”
With a glance outside, it was the first time I noticed the skies were dark. Faith had stepped back, tugging the sweater up over her shoulder, I noted with a small smile. The moment was officially broken.
Faith picked up her purse from the
table and gave me a wry smile when she must’ve read the frustration on my face. “She has great timing, huh?”
“Yeah.” But I held out my hand, and Faith took it without hesitation, sliding her fingers between mine as we left the arcade. The air had cooled, and with her free hand, she pulled her cardigan around her slim frame.
So easily, I’d be able to warm her, surround her with my entire body and let the heat from what was inside me keep her comfortable. But I also knew I couldn’t take this night like I normally might have. She was different. So very, very different, and so much more important than any previous interaction I’d had with a woman.
She climbed into the passenger seat, and as I shut the door, I saw her let out a slow breath. The tension wasn’t one-sided, and the mood hadn’t been completely dispelled by our interruption. She gave me the address to the apartment she shared with her friend, and in the quiet of the cab while I drove, the anticipation seemed to climb with each mile, each excruciating minute.
It was thick, laden with what had happened at the arcade, how close we’d come. There was no shortage of images playing through my head as I brought us closer, each fantasy building on what came before it. By the time I neared the address, I’d imagined pressing her against the stupid arcade game and sliding my hands underneath those impossibly tiny straps, hiking her thigh up against my side so I could press myself between her hips.
I’d imagined her crawling over my lap when I got into the driver’s side of my truck, her clothes somehow not a part of the equation anymore. I’d imagined her letting me lay her down in the back seat of my truck where we’d struggle to fit properly. But with her legs tight up against my waist and my hands braced on the door behind her, we’d be able to move.
Faith wanted me just as much as I wanted her, and that was a powerful thing rolling around in my head. Maybe she was imagining the same types of things, maybe not.
If she looked at my lap right now, she’d know exactly what I was thinking.
I was in pain—acute and skin-tingling—but because I saw how tightly she was gripping her fingers together, I could bear it, simply because I wasn’t alone.
The Lie : a bad boy sports romance Page 12
