Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
Luna
“I am so confused.” I follow him down the boardwalk to an arcade, where he holds open the door for me.
We step inside, and I hang back, assuming Vince is here to handle bookie business. He approaches a bored-looking guy behind the counter, exchanging cash for a cup of quarters.
“What is happening?” I ask, my mouth hanging open when Vince joins me.
He jiggles the quarters in the cup. “It’s what the kids call a good time.”
“Please do not ever say that phrase again.” I cringe.
“You said you’d believe it when you see it. Here’s your proof.” Vince smiles, walking over to a basketball game and feeding it quarters. “Ladies first.” He holds out a basketball.
I join him and grab the ball, waiting for the buzzer to sound. And with my first air ball, I’m taken back to my high school P.E. class days—with me sucking at athletics, basketball included. I try an overhead with both hands sorta throw; the ball hits the backboard so hard, it bounces off and flies out of the cage.
Vinces chases the ball down and returns with an amused expression, palming it with his huge right hand. “That was an interesting technique—trying to break the backboard.”
I spin around and throw a basketball at him, but he easily catches it with his left hand.
“Good idea. Watch and learn.” He nudges me out of the way, sinking back-to-back shots.
“Showoff,” I grumble.
The buzzer sounds, and Vince asks, “What next?”
I look around the arcade in search of a non-athletic game. “Claw machine.”
“Claw machine it is.”
Vince feeds quarters in the machine, and I give it a go, positioning the claw over a teddy bear that’s on top of the pile. I press the button and the claw descends, but it doesn’t even connect with the bear’s body.
“Let me try,” Vince says, adding more quarters. He maneuvers the claw and hits the red button.
The claw descends and grabs ahold of an ear, pulling the bear up. “Yes!” I cheer, until the bear drops before it can make it to the chute. “No! You were robbed.”
We switch over to air hockey—where I’m pretty sure Vince lets me win—and then it’s on to old-school pinball. “Wasn’t this game invented in your generation?”
Vince snorts a laugh, feeding the machine quarters and positioning me in front of the machine.
I launch the ball hard, and it flies back at me and past my flipper thingies. And just like that, my turn’s over.
Vince takes a turn, expertly launching the ball.
“How are you so good at all these games?” I demand.
“I may have a bit of an advantage; my first after-school job was working at an arcade,” he admits, smacking the ball as the machine lights up .
“How old were you?” I ask.
“Twelve.”
“I thought you had to be older to work in Jersey?”
Vince shrugs. “Where there’s a will, there’s always a way.”
“More pearls of wisdom.” I grab my little notebook from my purse and write the phrase down.
“You’re going to need a bigger notebook,” he muses.
“I figure at some point you’ll run out of clichés,” I tease him.
Vince makes it to the next round and grabs my hips, positioning me in front of the machine. “Don’t hit both the flippers at the same time.” He reaches around me and holds my hands, demonstrating what he means; I go ramrod stiff. “Try to hit the targets with the flashing lights.” His breath tickles my neck as he helps me hit the ball; the entire time I’m just thankful I’m wearing long sleeves so he can’t see the goosebumps on my arms.
He releases his hold, and I lose intentionally so I don’t get another tutorial. “I’m hungry,” I blurt out.
“Give me a minute, and we’ll grab something to eat.” Vince goes to speak to the same bored guy behind the counter, and I try to figure out why I’m having these bizarre reactions to Vince—my extorter, need I remind myself.
Wait, is extorter a word?
Ugh, who cares!
Vince’s back is to me, and I can’t see what’s happening, but he and the employee walk over to the claw machine. The employee opens the machine with a key, and Vince reaches his hand inside, grabbing the bear.
He joins me and gives me the stuffed animal, my mouth hanging open. “How?”
“Never look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“You’re repeating maxims,” I inform him.
“Bears repeating.” He nods to the bear .
“Stop,” I groan, but inwardly I’m beaming as he ushers me to the exit.
“Here you go. Have fun.” Vince hands a little kid with his grandma our cup of quarters.
Damn. He’s Stockholm syndroming me so hard right now.
We step outside and stroll down the boardwalk, the sun readying for the big show. Vince buys us hot dogs, and we grab a bench overlooking the water.
“Did you get ketchup?” I ask, unwrapping my dog.
“No, because only mustard goes on a hot dog,” he informs me.
“I want ketchup.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t facilitate that kind of atrocity.”
“Has the wordsmith ever tried ketchup on a hot dog?” I challenge.
“No, because only mustard goes on a hot dog,” he repeats himself.
“A man set in his ways. How bland ,” I taunt.
Vince sighs, walking over to the vendor and returning with a handful of ketchup packets. “A girl who has no taste buds. How bland ,” he counters, handing me the offending condiment.
“Thank you.” I smile sweetly as I tear open a packet and cover my dog.
Vince watches with a mixture of horror and amusement as I bring it to my mouth and take a big bite. “You’ve got a little something…” He reaches over and runs his finger along the corner of my mouth. I watch in shock as he licks the ketchup off his finger, and then takes a bite of his hotdog. “Nope. Still a crime.”
Vince
I keep touching Luna. Why the fuck do I keep touching Luna?
We finish our hot dogs in silence, watching sunset. A young couple stops and takes a selfie. “Would you like me to take your picture?” Luna volunteers.
“That would be great!”
Luna hops up and takes the girl’s phone and snaps the picture of the couple. “Here you go. I took a few you can choose from.”
“Thank you! Would you like me to take a picture of you and your dad?” The teenager eyes me.
“Daddy, let’s take a picture!” Luna tells me with a devious look in her eyes, and my dick twitches.
I consider tossing everyone off the boardwalk, but instead, I grab Luna’s hand, pulling her along.
“Maybe next time,” Luna calls over her shoulder with a laugh. “Oh come on, that was funny,” she tells me.
I ignore her as we weave in and out of people, making it back to my SUV. “Why are you mad?”
“I’m not mad.”
Oh, but I am mad. At myself . I don’t know why I thought having a good time with my ward was in any way appropriate. The lines are already blurred with us living together; no need to take a pressure washer to them.
As for why my dick thought it was a good idea to twitch when Luna called me Daddy, I’m gonna pretend that never happened.