Chapter 7
Mia
The bingo caller was announcing the games as we walked into the hall. Quickly we purchased our cards and dabbers and found a seat just as she was calling out the first number.
“Hurry,”
I said laughing, as I started dabbing my cards for B9.
“Wait,”
Connor looked over his cards. “There’s more than one box on a strip?!”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his bewildered expression. “Oh, you poor thing. You really have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, do you?”
He grinned sheepishly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Not a clue. But I’m a quick learner.”
As I guided him through the basics of bingo, I found myself relaxing for the first time in days. The familiar rhythm of the game, the excited murmurs of the other players, and Connor’s endearing attempts to keep up, all combined to create a bubble of normalcy that I desperately needed.
“I-22,”
the caller announced, her voice crackling over the ancient PA system.
“Ha!”
Connor exclaimed, triumphantly dabbing his card. “I’ve got that one!”
I leaned over to check his work, our shoulders brushing. “Good job. You’re getting the hang of it.”
As the evening wore on, Connor’s initial confusion gave way to genuine enthusiasm. He leaned forward in his seat, eyes darting between his cards and the flashing number board, dauber poised and ready. I couldn’t help but smile at his intense concentration, his tongue peeking out slightly as he searched for each new number.
“B-4,”
the caller announced, her voice a monotonous drone that somehow still managed to convey excitement.
“Before what?”
Connor whispered, looking confused.
I giggled, pointing to his card. “No, B-4. Look, you’ve got it right there.”
He grinned guiltily as he marked the number. “I knew that. I was just testing you.”
As the game progressed, I found myself stealing glances at him more often than I cared to admit. There was something endearing about watching this man fumble his way through a simple game of bingo. It made him seem more... human.
Finally, when the caller announced a brief intermission he stretched, his shirt riding up slightly to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of toned abs. I quickly averted my eyes, reminding myself that this was all for show.
“I don’t know about you,”
Connor said, standing up, “but I’m starving. How about we check out those nachos you were talking about?”
We made our way to the concession stand and waited our turn for our order to be taken. The smell of melted cheese and corn chips filled the air, making my mouth water.
“Two orders of nachos, please,”
Connor said when we reached the front. “And, uh, extra cheese.”
As we waited for our order, Connor leaned against the counter, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “So, what do you say we make this a regular thing? You know, for the sake of our cover story.”
I raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smile. “A weekly bingo date? How romantic.”
He shrugged, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. “Hey, I’m full of surprises.”
Our nachos arrived, and we made our way back to our seats. Connor took his first bite, and his eyes widened in surprise.
“Holy shit,”
he mumbled around a mouthful of chips and cheese. “This is... this is incredible. How have I never had this before?”
I laughed at his reaction. “Told you. Best cheese dip in the world.”
We chatted easily as we ate, swapping stories and laughing at each other’s jokes. For a moment, I could almost forget the danger lurking just beyond these walls, the secrets I was keeping. Here, in this dingy bingo hall with Connor, I felt... normal.
As we finished our nachos, the caller’s voice crackled over the PA system once more. “Alright, folks! Get ready for our jackpot round! Runners will be coming around with extra cards.”
Connor wiped his hands on a napkin and leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear. “Want to up the stakes a bit?”
I turned to face him, our noses nearly touching. “What did you have in mind?”
His eyes danced with mischief. “If I win, you have to make me dinner. I’ll even let you choose what it is.”
I snorted. “You? Win? Dream on, O’Brien. But fine, I’ll play. If I win, you have to make me a dessert. Something light and flaky. Wren is always telling me you come up with the best sweets, and I want to see for myself.”
Connor’s eyebrows shot up, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Deal.”
We each bought an extra card for the jackpot round, the competitive tension between us was intense. As the numbers were called, I found myself sneaking glances at him. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his strong hands poised over his card. It was almost endearing how seriously he was taking this.
“O-69!”
the caller announced, eliciting giggles from the crowd.
“Nice,”
Connor muttered, marking his card.
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. “Real mature.”
“B-7!”
My heart leapt. I only needed one more. I held my breath, willing the caller to announce my final number.
“I-22!”
“Bingo!”
I shouted, jumping to my feet.
Connor’s jaw dropped. “No way.”
I turned to him, grinning triumphantly. “Looks like you owe me a dessert, Captain.”
As the room buzzed with activity, his eyes locked onto mine. For a moment, the playfulness faded, replaced by something deeper, more intense. My breath caught in my throat.
“Yeah,”
he said softly. “I guess I do.”
This was supposed to be pretend, a cover story. So why did it suddenly feel so real?
The spell was broken by a runner approaching to verify my card. As I handed it over, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between us.
“Congratulations! You’ve won our very last jackpot of $2,000!”
I blinked in surprise. “Very last? But we are supposed to make this a weekly thing!”
“Yeah, sorry,”
the runner said. “The owners have decided to sell it.”
As we left the bingo hall, a chill ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the cool night air. Connor must have sensed my unease because he placed a gentle hand on my lower back, guiding me towards his car.
“You okay?”
he asked softly.
I nodded, forcing a smile. “Just disappointed about the bingo hall, I guess.”
Connor’s eyes narrowed slightly, his jaw tightening. “Yeah, that is... unexpected.”
As we walked to the car, I couldn’t shake the feeling we were being watched. I scanned the parking lot, trying to appear casual. Nothing seemed out of place.
“Let’s go get dessert,”
Connor said, his voice light but his eyes alert. “I know a great little place not far from here.”
The deal was for him to make it, but I didn’t persist, instead I nodded, sliding into the passenger seat. As soon as the doors closed, Connor’s demeanor changed.
He pulled out his phone, his fingers flying over the keypad. “Rory? Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I need you to do something. Buy Lucky’s Bingo Hall. Yeah, the one on 5th Street. I don’t care how much it costs, just make it happen. Tonight.”
I made a sound of protest and raised an eyebrow, but Connor held up a finger, listening intently to the voice on the other end.
“I don’t care what it costs,”
he insisted. “Just make it happen. And Rory? Be discreet.”
He ended the call and turned to me, his expression a mixture of determination and
something I couldn’t quite read. “For you. For our weekly dates.”
“Connor, you can’t possibly do that for me.”
“I just did. Now, change of plans. We’re heading home.”