35 Game On
My door slams open, and I jolt, heart in my throat. Luca fills the doorway.
“Come on, pretty girl!” He claps once, grinning wide enough to split his face.
I set my book down, raising my eyebrow. “Come on… where?”
“On me.” He winks.
I just stare at him.
He drops his hands with an exaggerated groan. “On our date, duh!”
He crosses the room in three long strides, his hands landing on my shoulders just as I stand.
“What? Now?“ A startled laugh comes out as he takes my hand and steers me to my closet.
“No time like the present!” The doors of my closet swing open with a dramatic flourish. He immediately starts rifling through my clothes like a raccoon in a dumpster.
“So you're dressing me too?“ I ask dryly.
A pair of jeans flies at my face. “How else are you going to know what to wear if I'm surprising you?” He gives me a charming smile before throwing a flowy top.
“I mean…you could just say ‘casual’ like a normal person,” I mumble, dodging the leather jacket he chucks next. He holds up a pair of boots like a trophy.
“But this is way more fun.” He steps close, trailing a finger down my cheek, heat following the touch. “See?”
I roll my eyes, though my pulse betrays me. “Okay, get out so I can get dressed.”
“Or,” Luca's lip ring glints as he leans against the doorframe. “Hear me out, I could stay and watch. Get a bit of a preview, you know, a little sample.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
I laugh and shove him out of the closet. He lets himself be pushed, dramatically stumbling out of the room.
The vibration travels through my thighs and into my chest. Wisps of hair, flying out behind me.
“Have you ever been on this road before?” Luca’s voice comes through the Bluetooth in the helmet.
“No.” My arms tighten instinctively around his waist, fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket. Even through the layers, I can feel the heat of him, solid and grounding. “I didn’t even know it existed.”
“That’s the point,” he says, I can hear his smile. “It’s a nice shortcut to avoid freeway traffic during rush hour.”
“I can imagine.” I laugh as the bike surges forward, leaning with his body.
The sun filters through tree branches, we move through the quick, golden flashes.
The wind picks up as we accelerate, tearing at my clothes, slipping under the edges of my helmet.
It’s freeing. Cars pass in the opposite direction, and the traffic flows easily.
And in this moment, I feel light. I don’t feel the walls are closing in.
No pressure. Just us, the wind, and the road.
Luca swerves the bike to the side of the road, stopping abruptly.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Get off.” Luca’s words are rushed.
I swing my leg and climb off. He keeps a hand on me, keeping me steady. As soon as both feet are on the ground, he’s scrambling off his bike.
My pulse kicks up.
What did he see?
He rips his helmet off, leaving it on the seat, and starts running back the way we came.
“Luca?” I pull off my own helmet.
“Come on!” he yells.
“What?” I whisper, putting my helmet down. “What’s wrong?” I yell after him.
“Shhh!” He whips around, pressing a finger to his lips. “We have to be quiet.”
He crouches down along the chained fence. Each step slow, the gravel crunching underneath our feet. Cars continue speeding by.
Tingling starts in my fingertips and I itch for my dagger in my boot.
Luca stops and straightens. He’s frozen for a moment then whirls around to me, a huge smile plastered across his face.
“Iz, look!”
I follow his line of sight.
“It’s a cow!” He all but squeals, pointing into the field and bouncing up and down.
At the end of his finger is a solid black cow. Its coat is sleek, despite the dust. Its head lifts slowly, dark eyes locking onto us as it chews. A single ear flicks, tail swishing behind it.
Then its head dips back down, continuing to graze.
A smile spreads across my face.
“It’s so cute!” Luca looks around. “There’s usually more around here.”
He wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his chest, still half-looking at the field like more will appear out of nowhere.
“Very cute.” I tilt my head up to look at him.
This man pulled over… so we could look at a cow.
I think it might be the sweetest thing he’s done.
Luca kicks the bike’s stand down. The motorcycle settles beneath us with a soft groan. The world around us feels muted in comparison with the hum of neon signs, the distant buzz of families laughing and chatting, the warm glow from strings of lights draped across the old brick.
But Luca’s the brightest thing here.
Dark hair tumbles out of his helmet in a tousled fashion; he shakes his hand through it and it falls back into place. His lip ring glints in the arcade’s neon glow, his smile warm and comforting.
His brown eyes find mine and butterflies erupt in my stomach.
“Here we are!” He holds his arms out.
I shake out my own hair as Luca takes my helmet from me.
“You brought me to an arcade?” I smile over at him.
“With mini golf and laser tag.” Luca smiles, taking my hand.
“I’ve never been to one of these places before. I’ve always wanted to go!” I squeeze his hand. I can’t help the little extra pep in my step.
He stops in his tracks, the lack of momentum pulling me back.
“What’s wrong?” I look back at him as he stares back at me with wide eyes.
“You’ve never been to an arcade or played mini golf?” His shoulders slump a bit.
“No.” I take a step closer. “Don’t be sad for me, I’m happy I get to experience it with you.”
His eyes search mine, he must see the truth in them as his signature smile returns to his face.
“Glad I get to pop your arcade cherry!” He winks.
I throw my head back laughing as he pulls me forward and we head inside.
Luca fills a bucket full of tokens and we head to the skeeball machines, all lined up in a neat row.
Long ramps leading to bright glowing rings.
The scoreboard flickers red and blue, buzzing lightly overhead.
Luca hands me some tokens and I push them into the machine, the lights and music starting up.
“I bet you I can get a higher score than you.” I poke his side.
“Oh, you’re on, Ashthorne.”
I grab the first ball, aim and throw. Luca hip bumps me and my ball misses the top ring.
I gasp and nudge him playfully.
“Playing dirty, Silvain!”
He laughs and it’s the happiest sound. I run around and steal one of his balls, quickly throwing it into my machine.
“Hey!” Luca laughs, enacting swift revenge. Grabbing from both mine and his machine. I’m laughing so hard I can hardly stand.
The air hockey table hisses to life the moment Luca slides the last token in, the surface glowing blue beneath us. A cool breeze lifts from the perforated surface, brushing my fingertips as I take hold of the striker.
Luca spins the puck on its edge like a coin.
“Try not to cry when I destroy you again.” He smiles mischievously.
“You cheated! You can’t cheat now!”
The puck drops and the chaos begins,
He hits the first shot so fast I barely see it, just a blur and a crack against the side of my striker.
“Seriously?” I yelp, half laughing.
“It’s called skill, sweetheart,” he says, leaning over the table like he’s posing for a magazine.
I smack the puck back, a wild ricochet that bounces off the walls three times and somehow shoots straight into his goal.
Luca blinks and I whoop loudly.
“Beginner’s luck.” Luca cracks his neck.
I shrug innocently. “It’s called skill, sweetheart.”
That earns me a low laugh, the kind that warms my chest. He resets the puck and we’re off again.
We fall into this ridiculous rhythm. Him launching sniper-precision shots that I block with pure panic, me sending chaotic gremlin shots that luck their way into his goal. Both of us shouting “No! No! No!” whenever the puck rockets a little too close to our goal.
Luca slams a victory shot into my goal, throwing his arms up, and yells, “I AM THE MASTER COMMANDER!”
I laugh as families around us shoot him weird looks.
We fall into a spiral of noise, neon lights, and laughter, going from one game to the next.
Luca drags me to the first open machine he sees, snatching two mallets like a man preparing for war.
“Watch and learn,” he declares.
He whacks exactly zero moles. I smack three in a row.
Luca pauses mid-swing. “You’re cheating.”
“How do you cheat at Whack-A-Mole?”
He misses another by an inch. “This is slander. Defamation. Character assassination.”
He throws the mallet at the machine in defeat.
We stop at the claw machine next, packed with plushes.
“Aren’t these usually rigged?” I glance at an eager Luca shoving tokens in, then handing me the bucket.
“Only if you’re not a master.” He cracks his knuckles, rolling his neck and shoulders. “I’ve trained for this.”
He immediately fails. The claw slips. The plush drops.
He tries again.
And again.
And… again.
Luca’s muttering under his breath, forehead pressed to the glass like he’s praying to the claw machine gods.
“You know,” I say gently, “we don’t have to—”
The claw closes, lifts, and drops the fluffy white bunny plush straight into the chute.
Luca whips around with the biggest grin I’ve ever seen. “First try! Never doubted myself for a second.”
He presents the bunny with a dramatic bow.
I take and hug it to my chest. “You’re ridiculous. Thank you, I’m not sure this bunny was worth all those tokens.”
“And yet,” he says, tapping my nose, “you’re smiling. That is worth all the tokens.”
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 hands me a putter with a flourish. “Ladies first.”