CHAPTER 4 #2
It unwound some anxious part of me that worried Cam and I wouldn’t mesh well together.
Yeah, I had brought him back to life with the intentions of dating him, but that didn’t mean I would have forced it had we not gotten on well.
And maybe I was delusional or hopeful but...
we got along really, really well. It kind of scared me how wonderfully we harmonized, how we laughed at the same things and how he even understood the nerdy references I made out of habit.
And, to my delight, our physical contact grew more frequent too.
When we weren’t holding hands, Cam was brushing his arm against mine, I was rubbing my hand over his shoulders, he was placing his palm at the small of my back... My flirting was matched by his flirting. Every touch left me electrified. Supercharged and eager to spend even more time with him.
Once we had played most games at least twice, we rounded up our tickets, giggling like schoolgirls.
“Here,” I handed him my meager pile of tickets, which was half the size of Cam’s. “Will you cash these in? I have to run to the restroom.”
“What prize do you want?” he asked me.
And, feeling particularly bold, I winked. “Surprise me, handsome.”
With that flirty ball dropped, I turned and aimed for the bathroom sign in the back corner of the arcade.
I rushed, already impatient to return to Cam, planning on claiming my prize as something far more interesting than a cheap arcade souvenir.
However, as I was standing at the furthest urinal, the door opened and someone strode in.
The man ignored proper public restroom etiquette and strolled directly over, taking the spot right next to me.
My spine immediately stiffened, senses on high alert.
This wasn’t the first time I had faced this specific situation.
Honestly, it was rather annoying how often it actually happened.
Even when I was on the hunt for a fuck for the night, I refused to be picked up in a fucking bathroom.
Fucking in a bathroom, sure. It was reckless and kind of thrilling.
But first impressions mattered, damnit. And my first impression of this guy was not promising, even if I wasn’t with Cam.
Feeling glaringly uncomfortable, I finished and zipped up my pants to stride toward the sink. As predictable as a, well, as the ending of a romcom, he followed and picked the sink beside me.
I could feel his eyes watching me through the mirror. Clearly ignoring him wasn’t having the desired effect, so I looked up and met his gaze in the glass with a hard stare of my own.
“Can I help you?” I snapped.
He was tall, but not as tall as Cam. Still, he had several inches on me, plus at least fifty pounds.
I was always hyper-aware of the fact that I would lose in most fights or if any man ever tried to force himself on me.
I usually carried pepper spray on me just in case, but today had been my first date with Cam.
I hadn’t even thought to bring it with me.
I did have a few spells stuffed into my pocket, but those were a last resort.
His eyes tracked my frame up and down in the reflection with appreciation. He hummed,
“I think you can, pretty boy.”
I cringed and muttered, “Satan, this is already exhausting,” before turning to aggressively grab some paper towels from the dispenser.
“Are you seeing anyone?” he asked.
I sighed heavily with an obvious eyeroll and ignored him.
He grinned, undeterred. “You’re cute. Want to grab a drink?”
I scoffed, “I’m clearly here on a date, asshole.” I tossed the towel into the garbage. “And it’s four in the fucking afternoon. On a weekday.”
With a snort, I shouldered my way around him and reached for the door. A hand quickly pressed onto the door, keeping it held shut. My heart thudded as adrenaline rushed through me.
“Now now, don’t be like that,” he crooned. “What’s your name?”
“None of your fucking business.” I whirled on him. “And I am taken by that gorgeous, tattooed hunk out there probably picking me out a book of glittery pony stickers or something and I need to get back to him so kindly fuck. Right. Off.”
Stunned like my rejection was the single most surprising thing to ever happen to him, his arm dropped and I bolted out of the restroom, heart racing.
I power-walked as far away as I could, scanning the arcade for said gorgeous, tattooed hunk.
When I spotted him, relief settled over me.
I couldn’t help but smile as his gaze found mine and he lifted something excitedly to wave it at me. It looked like a little booklet.
But, before I could figure it out, something entirely unforeseen happened. To my utter horror and likely due to his vigorous waving, his arm flew right from his body.
Literally flew. It majestically soared through the air and over several blessedly empty arcade machines.
My precious hunk didn’t even notice, entirely clueless as his focus was completely on me.
“Oh, shit,” I hissed as I tracked where it sailed to.
It landed on the ground several feet away from Cam and as it hit the floor, one of the nearby pinball machines let out a chiming ding.
Eyes wide, I quickly scanned the room to ensure no one had seen but the employee behind the prize counter was distractedly scrolling on their phone with a bored expression on their face and the few others were engrossed in their games.
With one more anxious glance around, I scurried over and swiped it up.
I also grabbed the little booklet it had been holding, stuffing it into my back pocket.
Now that I had an arm cradled between my hands, I didn’t know what to do with it. Heart racing with mild panic, I did the only smart thing I could think of besides tossing it. I shoved it within my jacket, zipping it up to secure it in place.
Cam’s smile had fallen from his face as he watched the scene unfold. His expression was mortified as he watched me rush back over to him, hugging the hidden arm to my chest. A finger was poking out above the front collar and I swore it twitched against my neck, so I stuffed it back down.
When I came to a stop in front of him, laughter bubbled up and escaped in a very undignified, unattractive snort. I laughed so hard that my stomach ached and tears welled in my eyes. When I was left gasping and hunched over, I managed between fits of giggles,
“Come on. Let’s go take a look.”
I took Cam’s still-attached hand in mine and linked our fingers together.
He mutely followed as I pulled him along to the back exit of the theatre, his empty jacket sleeve flopping and swaying at his side.
More people had begun filling the building, the lines growing for the evening films, and I knew the parking lot wouldn’t be private enough to examine my date’s detached limb. The back alley it would have to be.
Classy.
As we walked, I swore I felt the hand in my jacket stir. When it happened again only moments later, I knew I wasn’t imagining things. The fingertips grazed my collarbone and I shivered,
“Um, Cam?” I asked hesitantly. “Can you maybe keep your hand still? It’s kind of...” I paused to clear my throat as it gripped the collar of my sweater, “distracting.”
His voice was slightly rough as he apologized, but the hand in question didn’t still in the slightest. If anything, it grew even more restless, fingertips tracing lazy patterns over the skin just above the neckline of the fabric.
This cheeky devil, I thought, suddenly realizing that maybe Cam wasn’t so shy after all.
“The stitching must have come loose in ski ball,” he commented casually, tone so at odds with the way his hand was grazing me.
“Uh, yeah. Probably,” I said absentmindedly. I supposed that was the problem with using too much magic at once; the results were less than thorough.
When I caught sight of the red exit sign, I steered Cam toward it.
With a quick, sneaky look over my shoulder, I pushed the door open and we slipped outside.
The cold air nipped at my nose, and a gust of that chilly October wind whipped my hair into my face.
I batted it out of my eyes and spotted a dumpster over to my left.
We had popped out in the alley behind the theatre between it and some unknown brick building to its back.
To the right I could just make out the edge of the parking lot and, besides the large green dumpster bin, a pile of cardboard boxes, and a few empty wooden crates, the alley was empty.
I gently guided Cam to sit on one of the upturned crates and pulled out his arm from my jacket. It seemed unwilling to part as it clung to my sweater. I gave it a few tugs and let out an awkward bark of laughter,
“Really... attached, aren’t you?” I said to the arm.
Cam let out a rumbling chuckle and reached over to pull the appendage free. His smile was a little guilty as he looked at it, then me with a one-shouldered shrug.
I gave it a stern look. “It’s not me you’re supposed to be attached to. Why aren’t you sticking to him?” I gestured to the arm's rightful owner whose smile had turned lopsided as he watched me scold his arm. My cheeks flushed, but I shoved my embarrassment aside.
Had the magic not set it properly? Maybe I’d messed up somehow. Or perhaps it needed more time. Either way, this was going to be a real problem.
“Will you take off your jacket for me?” I asked.
Cam dipped his chin with a slight, almost shy smirk, and I shook my head good-naturedly.
Once he had slipped it off and folded it neatly over his lap, he was left in his simple, black t-shirt. I knelt next to him and examined the stump of his arm just below the elbow and the poor quality of the thick black stitching that had, indeed, come loose. In several spots.
“I didn’t bring a needle and thread.” I gnawed on my lip. Then, noticing the way he was staring down at me, I teased, “So, looks like I’ve ‘gotta bring you home with me.”