3. Julia
CHAPTER 3
Julia
The cold hits us as we leave the warm coffee-scented embrace of Deja Brew. The streets are bustling with holiday shoppers and tourists hurrying to get to wherever they’re going. I find myself chewing on my bottom lip, replaying how he called me ‘ bella’ again. I admit that ever since he was in here, I wondered if I would ever see him again. I thought I’d seen him a few times, but it always turned out not to be him.
As we walk, I can’t help but notice how tall he is. I rarely find someone that can handle my height. They usually make some joke and then pick a small, petite girl they can swing around with ease.
He follows my lead down a route I’ve taken many times before.
“So, you’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?” He asks, mask back over his face.
“You’re just going to have to trust me.”
“It’s Rockefeller Center, isn’t it?”
“Nope. That’s the other direction.” I smirk as we turn down the next street. So, he was a visitor, after all. I tuck that information away, greedy for more details about my masked man.
As I lead him to my secret place, we fall into a lockstep with each other. A place that’s served as therapy more times in the last year since losing my mother than I could count.
My mom was all the family I had left, and when MS dug its claws into her, I was forced to watch her wither away before my eyes. Praying to the universe for a miracle that would let me have more time with her.
But either the universe wasn’t listening, or they didn’t give a shit because she was taken far too soon. Leaving me in a pile of debt that had me quitting NYU and working several jobs to make ends meet.
“Can I ask why you wear the mask?” I venture, curiosity burning to know all I can about Max.
He clears his throat, and I see I’ve hit a nerve. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” I rush out, worried that I’ve offended him.
“No, it’s okay. It’s just my mom. She’s been sick since my father passed last year. I already lost my father. I don’t want to lose her, too.”
My heart squeezes at his thoughtfulness. “I’m sorry for your loss. I know what it’s like to lose a parent.” He stops me, grabbing my wrist and turning me to face him. The heat from his surprisingly gentle touch travels up my arm as his dark brown eyes pin me to where I stand. He tucks a stray hair behind my ear, and it takes enormous effort not to crumple from my weak, trembling knees. If anyone doubts whether the expression ‘weak in the knees’ actually exists, I can assure them that it does.
“You should not have had to experience such a loss.” He says, voice low and almost angry.
Grief can be like that. Sudden and full of rage.
I feel so seen by this man that I’ve known for only a handful of minutes that it should unnerve me. But it doesn’t. Maybe it’s my loneliness or my still grieving heart, but I can’t help but feel entirely safe and understood by him.
“We’re here,” I say, tugging at his jacket so that he’ll follow me.
A frown burrows deep onto his face, and then he laughs as he realizes where I’ve taken him.
“Laser tag?” Those dark eyes of his dance with delight.
I shrug my shoulder. “It’s my favorite way to let off some steam after a hard day. I love this place.”
“I promise you there are much more fun ways to let off some steam.” He says with a wink, and my stomach flips as I catch his meaning. “But this is good, too. I don’t think I’ve played in years.”
The place is mostly empty, save for a group of teenage girls here for a birthday party with a few moms who look like they’d rather be anywhere else but here. The place smells like stale popcorn and sweat, but I can’t help but feel instantly comforted by the familiarity.
“Julia. Nice to see you again.” The owner greets me from behind the counter.
“Hey, Joe. How’s the wife?” He’s an older man in his early seventies with grey, bushy eyebrows and a shiny bald head.
“She’s on a meatball kick. Meatball subs, meatball spaghetti, breakfast meatballs. I tell you, if I never see another meatball again, I’ll be a happy man.” He pats his prominent belly, and I laugh.
“Two, please,” I say as I’m about to pay, but Max stops me.
“My pleasure.” He says, and a little intrusive thought answers, I’d love to know what gives you pleasure. I mentally smack myself.
Joe winks at me and wiggles his eyebrows, and a flood of heat rises to the apples of my cheeks. I never bring anyone here. It’s my sacred space—where I can forget about the world for twenty minutes and just be.
We grab our gear, locking the pads around our chests as they light up in a bright neon blue. The teenage girls keep looking at us and whispering as they put their neon red vests on. It’s clear they find him just as hot as I do by the way they keep checking him out.
“I think you have a fan base over there,” I say, gesturing to the girls.
“I’m fine with the one I have here.” He says, grabbing the laser tag gun, and I bloom underneath his praise. The lights start flashing as the countdown begins.
“You ready?” I ask, getting in position and raising my gun.
“You bet your ass I am.”
The buzzer sounds, announcing the game has begun. The doors open wide, and we run at full speed into a maze of obstacles as all hell breaks loose.
Shrieks from the girls rain down on us as lights flicker all around.
“Up here!” I direct, knowing the layout by heart. He follows closely behind, shielding my back from an oncoming attack. The sound of automated gunfire echoes in the enclosed space, and my face breaks out with a wide smile. I fucking love this shit.
The adrenaline. The rush.Not knowing what happens next.
I aim at some of the girls below and light them up before they even have a chance to take cover.
“They’re up there!” The girls scream. We duck just in time to avoid their fire.
“Follow me,” I say, grabbing him by the vest.
We find an alcove and crouch down, waiting for the girls to make their way up to us. We can see them clearly from where we are, and I take a moment to look at Max.
He’s staring at me, head tilted, and eyes crinkled like he’s smiling under that mask of his. It feels almost like he’s admiring me. We crouch down together in the dark, inches away from each other. Hiding from the incoming attack.
“You are a fucking surprise, Julia.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“It’s a really good thing.”
His eyes are locked with mine, and I feel myself pulled to him. The chaos of the game fades into the background. All that exists is him and I.
He leans forward, and I have the urge to tug his mask down and kiss him. My eyes track to where it sits on his face, and he inhales sharply. Electricity crackles between us the closer he gets to me.
Suddenly, he turns and aims at one of the girls that have snuck up on us, hitting her square in the chest. It flashes red.
“Good aim,” I say, rushing behind a half wall. A patter of feet rumbles the ground beneath us. They’re closing in on our location.
He spins, looking like something out of a video game, and takes out each of the girls, shot after shot.
Holy shit.
I stand mouth agape, watching them fall one by one as he racks up the points.
One of the girls angrily points her gun at me, and I know I’m toast.
But before she can hit me, he grabs me by the waist and spins, shielding me from the assault. His vest flashes blue with the hit, and the mask covering his face hangs off one of his ears, letting me see his full smile.
A loud buzzer chimes throughout the room, and the lights slowly turn on.
Game over.