18. Noah
NOAH
“This place is insane. I never knew this existed, and it’s less than ten minutes from me,” she says as her eyes are hypnotized by all the flashing lights.
She’s been walking around the arcade for the last ten minutes looking at all the games that are available.
I can tell a couple are her favorites just by how she lingers on them.
She stares at the screen and traces her fingers over the controls.
We almost have two and a half hours for her to play to her heart's content, and if necessary, I’ll bring her back tomorrow.
“Which one do you want to play first?” I ask as we finish our trip around the room.
“Don’t laugh, but do you want to race me?”
“Race you? Which one, Fast and the Furious or Fury?”
“Fury, of course,” she scoffs, as if there was ever even a choice.
“What do I get when I win?”
“There you go again, being Mr. Cocky.”
“I grew up playing these games at the arcade when we used to go on vacation. I can almost guarantee I can beat you at any of these,” I say, gesturing to the room around us.
I take a step closer to her, putting our bodies mere inches apart. I tower over her, so she has to slightly tip her head up to look at me. She glances behind her at the bar, then back at me.
“Loser buys the winner a drink?”
“That’s a start.”
I wink at her as I take a step back, then turn to head to the back to Fury, but I don’t miss the blush coloring her cheeks.
I slide into my race chair, and she slides into the one next to me. The seat is pushed all the way back, and she’s just a bit too short to reach everything. I can see her slightly struggling with the bar under the front of the chair between her legs. It’s an old game, so it’s probably stuck.
“Need some help?” I ask.
“No. I’ve got it…Damnit. I think it’s jammed.”
“Here.”
I place one hand on the back of the chair, and the other reaches in front, pulling up the bar, then sliding the chair forward until she can reach all of the controls.
“See. I’ve got you,” I say softly as I pull away.
I let my fingers barely brush against her thigh before returning my attention to my own screen. I can hear the slight gasp she lets out as she feels my touch.
“Remember, loser buys drinks,” I tease.
“Yep. Don’t worry, their White Claws are half off tonight, so you won’t be spending too much.”
“I won’t be spending anything, Little Rabbit, because there’s no way you’re going to beat me.”
We both click to start the game. We select our cars, and both select random for the map choice.
“You ready?” I ask as the screen shifts to the starting line of Rio De Janeiro.
“Are you ready, Mr. Anderson?”
“I’m ready for you to buy me a drink, Miss Bennett.”
I see the way her lips curl into that devilish smirk of hers.
It’s so cute that she thinks she’s going to win.
I grew up as an only child, and after my mother died, I practically had no one.
Well, except for Jeremy. My summers were spent at my father’s cabin up north, sometimes without him even there, leaving me alone with our live-in nanny, Beatrice.
She was an older woman who was more like a grandmother to me than a nanny.
She would let me go to the arcade almost every single day and I became a master at every game in that place.
Three…
Two…
One…
Go!
We’re off. The race has begun, and she pulls ahead fast. I was caught in the memories of my childhood. The one I had to live through without her.
“Come on, slowpoke. I thought you said you were going to win?” she laughs as she drifts around the next turn. She’s in second, I’m in fifth.
See, the thing about playing the same racing games over and over again is that you learn where every single shortcut is. Where she keeps straight up ahead, I turn left. I stick to a small side path and race through the center part of the map putting me from fifth to third instantly.
I can see her glance over at my screen, confused, causing her to skid around the turn and bump into the wall. It gives me the second I need to pull ahead. I take another sharp left and veer back onto the main race track, putting me in first and her in third.
“No fair. Where the hell did you go?” she demands as she floors it and climbs to second place.
When I glance at her screen, she’s right behind me.
“Just a little shortcut,” I laugh as I finish the first lap out of three.
“Let me guess, you know where all the shortcuts are in this game.”
“That’s for me to know, and you to find out.”
She cuts hard on the inside of the next turn, switching our positions.
“You may know the shortcuts, but your actual driving sucks,” she teases as we finish the second lap with her in first and me in second.
“I’m just taking it easy on you.”
“Bullshit. You’d better not be.” She actually seems angry at that statement. “Play the game right, Noah,” she growls.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I gun it, keeping right on her tail, turn for turn. We’re coming up to the last few turns. She’s still in first, but not for long.
On the last tight turn before the finish line, I take the inner lane. It’s tight, and when she turns, her front end manages to clip my rear bumper. She tries to overcorrect her steering and ends up hitting the wall. I cross the finish line in first, and her car spins past in second.
“Hmm. What’s that old saying, Miss Bennett?” I ask coyly.
She rolls her eyes at me playfully while she huffs and gets up from the game.
“What are you saying?” she asks.
“From that one racing movie? Come on. Don’t you know your Will Ferrell movies?”
She stares at me for a second before bursting out laughing.
“Do you mean Talladega Nights?” she asks while still laughing.
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
“If you ain’t first, you’re last.”
She’s laughing harder now, and it’s adorable. Her smile makes her eyes light up, and the sound of her laugh drags me right back to the last time I saw her.
“Yeah, that’s the one. So, about that drink?”
“Yeah, yeah. Keep your pants on.”
She waves me off and heads toward the bar. She leans on the counter patiently waiting for the bartender to finish up with another customer.
“So, what’ll it be, Noah? White Claw? High Noon? A shot of Jack?”
“Just a water for me.”
She spins back toward me and realizes how close I am.
“What? But you said…”
“I just agreed to a drink. You didn’t say it had to be alcoholic. Go ahead and get your White Claw.”
She slowly turns back to the bartender when he comes over.
“One black cherry White Claw, and one water, please.”
“Water’s free, so three bucks.”
She goes to pay, but I place my card down instead.
“Hey, that wasn’t part of the deal.”
“The water is free, so I guess the deal is void. We’ll have to figure out another way for me to claim my winnings.”
I take a step closer, caging her against the bar top with my body flush against her back while I sign the credit card slip. I can feel the sparks bouncing between us. This heat. This fucking pull. I know she can feel it too because I can feel her body tense.
“So, what game do you want me to beat you at next?” I tease as I grab the water and take a sip.
“Air hockey?”
“I think we should make this game interesting.”
I take her hand and lead her down the row to the back, where the air hockey table is lit up.
“Oh yeah? How so?”
“How about this, if I win, you say yes to being hired right here, right now. No second interview.”
“And what if I win?” she asks before taking a sip of her drink.
“If you win, you can either choose to do the second interview on Tuesday, or…” I let my voice trail off.
“Or?”
“Or you continue letting me try and bribe you tonight.”
“Interesting.”
She lets the word slowly fall from her lips before taking another sip.
“So, do we have a deal?” I ask, holding out my hand to shake on it.
“If you win, I accept the job. If I win, you still have until three a.m. to bribe me to say yes. Otherwise, I’ll be seeing you on Tuesday for the second interview.”
She holds out her hand and takes mine, sealing the deal and her fate.
Willow Bennett is mine.