Chapter Eleven
Fallon
“Where are we?” I ask the moment we come to a stop.
We’re parked outside of a large brick building. There is a sign lit up above the door that says ‘Ace’s Edge’, which means absolutely nothing to me. It's completely isolated, with nothing around it other than a busy car park.
“You’ll find out in a few minutes,” he chuckles.
I try to scoot off the bike as graciously as I possibly can, then remove my helmet and pass it over to him.
God, I hope my hair isn’t flat to my head.
Flipping my head upside down, I thread my fingers through my curls to give them a little bit of life back.
When I look back up at Luke, his eyes are fixed on me.
“What? Have I made it look even worse?” I ask, chewing on my bottom lip.
“No,” his deep voice breathes back. “You look fuckable, Fallon.”
My eyes widen at his brash words. I know I'm meant to be playing it cool, but wow, his words sent a pulse right down between my legs.
“You, er, have a way with words, Dr Dreamy.” I stutter.
With a coy smile, he throws me a wink before walking over to grab my hand.
“Come on, our reservation is in fifteen minutes, and I want to grab us a drink first,” he says.
I follow behind him as he pulls me inside the mysterious building.
The moment we step inside, a smile grows on my lips.
This is not what I was expecting. We’re in a large open bar.
The walls, floor, and ceiling are all made of wooden panels, giving it a look that is both cheap and cool at the same time.
Instead of the usual barstools you would find in an average bar, they have long wooden tables and benches that stretch from one side of the room to the other.
There are even some girls dancing on the benches, and with the music pulsing through the room, I wish I were one of them.
I have never been to a place like this before, and I love it.
“What do you think?” Luke asks from beside me now.
“I fucking love it, pass me a drink and get me on those tables,” I laugh.
“There's time for that. First, we have something to do,” he says as he starts to back away from me, the most flirtatious look on his face as he moves.
Curiosity gets the better of me; I need to know what the hell we’re doing.
Ever since he said an ‘active’ date, my mind has been on a hike or something similar.
As we reach the back of the bar, we come to a set of double doors.
The closer we get, all you can hear is laughter and the most bizarre banging noises.
I can't wait a moment longer, pushing through the doors in front of him, and my eyes widen in delight at what I see.
“Oh my god, we're going axe-throwing?” I squeal. “I have always wanted to do this. How did you know?”
He chuckles, “I didn’t, but from how you attacked me outside the salon that time, I thought you might like getting rid of a bit of that pent-up aggression.”
“Hey, you snuck up on me. What did you expect me to do?”
He doesn’t need to know my reflexes were so quick based on the number of self-defence classes I have taken. However, he is right; I do have anger inside me that sometimes struggles to get out. So this is exactly what I need.
“Whatever you say, my feisty girl,” he grins, grabbing my hand to pull me along to the kiosk where we can sign in.
He keeps doing that, grabbing my hand, and I don’t hate it.
It’s not long before we’re geared up and taken to our own booth.
The walls are lined with axes. I was expecting small handheld fake things, but that’s not what's here. These things are bloody huge. How the hell am I meant to lift one, never mind throw it? From the marks scattered all over the floor, it seems like it’s a struggle for many people.
“Have you done this before?” I ask him as he lifts one from the wall.
“Yeah, I came here with Dom once. He thought it would be a good place to pick up a rough-looking man, and he did. For a night anyway.” He rolls his eyes.
“He sounds like a person I need to know,” I say. “Is he one of your close friends?”
“Yes, he's the closest friend I have around here. I've been here that long now, I don’t really speak to many people from back home.” He admits, then turns back to me. “Do you want to go first? Or watch me embarrass myself and learn from my mistakes?”
“The second option.” I tease, hoping he will make a holy show so that I won’t feel as bad when I do the same.
Although I have a hard time imagining him ever embarrassing himself.
Luke could fall over and make it look hot.
Shaking off his jacket, my mouth begins to salivate at the sight in front of me.
It shouldn't be legal for him to look this good.
His black T-shirt clings to his muscular, tattooed biceps in the most delicious way.
He lifts down an axe from the wall and gets himself into position.
With his right hand, he pulls the axe back before letting it fly through the air, barely missing the bullseye.
“I didn’t do as badly as I thought,” he smiles widely, running his fingers through the loose strands of his hair.
It takes me a moment to form words. I'm currently doing the ultimate impression of a fish out of water. Forcing my mouth shut, I shake my head.
“Embarrass yourself, you said? Now I have to compete with that?” I glare at him, but can't hold the smile back that’s creeping in.
With a shake of my head, I lift down an axe for myself and get into the same stance he has just taken. Fuck me, this thing is as heavy as I thought it would be. I throw it, hopeful that I might make it across the room. But my face falls when I see it hasn’t even made it a meter in front of me.
Well, this isn’t as fun as I hoped it was going to be.
Bending down, I pull it out of the floor, ready to try again, when I feel the heat of someone coming up behind me.
Luke traces his fingers down my arm until his hand is placed on top of mine, his fingers threading through mine around the handle.
He leans his head down to my ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps down my spine as he whispers.
“Let’s do it together.”
With our combined strength, the axe lifts much more easily this time around. Not that I'm paying it any notice. My attention is solely on the man pressed up against my back. I can feel every inch of him, and my body arches with the movement.
“One, two, three,” he says, his voice low.
Then my own axe flies through the air, hitting the target perfectly. I suck in a breath as my mouth gapes. I can't believe we did it. By 'we,' I mean him, as I didn’t do much to help at all. I spin and throw my arms around his neck.
“See, we make a good team,” he says, a smugness in his tone.
“Yeah, I suppose we do,” I reply, a little mystified at how perfect he is.
And for once, I feel as though this could go somewhere. He and I. And that is a feeling I have never felt or ever thought possible.