Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Jasmine was standing in front of her building when Maxwell pulled up, dressed casually in dark jeans, an oversized sweatshirt, and white tennis shoes. With her hair pulled into a low ponytail and no makeup, she looked like she was in her early twenties.
Maxwell reached across the seat to push open the passenger door. She climbed in, bringing the cool night air and the familiar scent of cherries with her.
“Hey,” she said, a bright smile on her face.
“Hey.” Maxwell scanned her. “You look so different from how you normally look in the office.”
“I told you to dress down,” Jasmine reminded him.
“I am dressed down.”
It was her turn to study his appearance, taking in the leather jacket, white, lightweight sweater, and dark slacks. “I don’t know if I would call this dressing down...”
“Hey, if I’m not wearing a tie, this is dressed down. Besides, no way was I going home to change. Then I’d have to keep you waiting.” He pulled away from the curb. “Where are we headed?”
“You’ll see soon enough,” Jasmine replied.
He glanced at her, but she was looking straight ahead, with the mischievous expression of someone who was enjoying having information he didn’t.
“You’re not going to give me a hint?” he asked.
“I gave you a huge hint already, letting you know that you could dress casually.”
“Come on, Jasmine, I need to know where we’re going so I can navigate.”
“Drive the car, Maxwell. I’ll navigate by telling you when you need to turn. I’m in charge.”
“I have a feeling you’ve been looking forward to this,” he muttered.
Her soft giggling was his reward.
As promised, she provided the directions as he drove. Finally, they arrived at a strip mall, where a neon sign proclaimed Uptown Arcade in bright red lights.
“You brought me to an arcade?” Maxwell asked, shifting into park.
“I brought you to an arcade,” Jasmine confirmed. “Much better than a restaurant where people will be staring into each other’s eyes over candlelit dinners. You’re welcome.”
He almost asked if that’s what she’d be doing if Nicholas was in town but changed his mind. He didn’t want to shift the mood in the car.
“I won’t say thank you since I’m not sure about this yet,” Maxwell said, side-eyeing her smugness.
He climbed out of the vehicle, and they both walked toward the entrance. She seemed very pleased with her choice, and he experienced a sense of contentment because she was happy.
Inside the arcade was loud, with the sound of games, the occasional cheers from customers, and rock music pouring out of invisible speakers. The smell of fried food and old carpet hit his nostrils as he stood just inside the entrance, taking it all in.
“Have you ever been to an arcade before?” Jasmine asked.
“No.”
“My friends and I used to come here all the time. It was our high school hangout, where we spent an hour or two before we had to go home. Come on, let’s get our tokens.”
Maxwell followed her and watched as she pushed a twenty into the machine. In return, it spat out paper tokens for them to use.
“How good are you with racing games?” Jasmine asked.
“Prepare to get your pretty little ass spanked,” Maxwell said, shrugging off his leather jacket.
She let out a big, overly done laugh. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy whooping your ass.”
With extra swagger in her steps, Jasmine led the way to a couple of unoccupied motorcycle racing games.
Swinging one leg over the bike with exaggerated confidence, she settled onto the seat and wrapped her fingers around the rubber grips.
Watching her straddle the machine reminded him of how she had ridden him like a pro.
It made his dick a little hard, but Maxwell focused on the task at hand and climbed onto the machine beside her.
After choosing their riders, they waited for the game to countdown before the competition started.
“Try not to cry when I leave you in my dust,” Jasmine said, revving the handlebars.
Maxwell chuckled. “You’re delusional. How cute.”
The countdown continued. Three... Two... One...
They took off, and the bikes between their thighs lurched with convincing force. They leaned into the curves, their bodies instinctively tilting to shift their weight.
Jasmine groaned when her bike clipped a guardrail and sparks flew across the screen.
Maxwell took advantage and shot ahead, weaving through the traffic with precision while she muttered under her breath at the widening gap between them.
The race ended when he crossed the finish line eleven seconds ahead of her.
“You got lucky,” Jasmine declared. “Let’s go again.”
Maxwell smirked. “You sure you can handle my dust?” he asked in a mocking tone.
“Less talk. More action.”
The second race was more competitive, with Jasmine taking riskier moves as she banked the corners and whizzed between the vehicles on the screen.
But Maxwell stayed consistent, never oversteering or missing the opportunity to slide through an opening.
When the second race finished, he beat her by thirteen seconds.
“Woo!” Maxwell pumped his fist in the air and was feeling pretty good until he saw Jasmine’s face. He didn’t see defeat, as expected. More like determination.
Jasmine stared at the screen in disbelief before narrowing her eyes at him. “This game is rigged.”
Maxwell burst out laughing. “A sore loser. What a surprise.”
“One more game,” she said, holding up a finger.
“I don’t know... I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Maxwell hedged.
“One more. Or are you scared?” she asked with a roll of her neck.
Chuckling to himself, he shook his head. “If you think I’m going to go easy on you, I’m not.”
“I don’t want you to,” she snapped.
“Okay,” Maxwell said, throwing up his hands in surrender. “I see you’re a masochist. Get ready for another ass whooping. Let’s go.”
Jasmine didn’t win the third race either, cursing angrily when the game ended.
Rubbing his palms together, Maxwell asked, “What’s next? I’m feeling lucky.”
Jasmine cut her eyes at him and marched away to buy more tokens. He lowered his gaze, admiring the view of her swaying hips while he tried not to laugh and piss her off more.
“I’ll cover this time.” He bumped her out of the way with his elbow and pulled two twenties from his wallet. After he purchased the tokens, he asked, “What do you want me to beat you on next?”
She shoved a finger in his face. “You’re not going to beat me again. Know this.” She scanned the room, stopping when the game she wanted caught her eye. A slow smile expanded across her lips. “How are you with a gun?”
“Not bad,” Maxwell replied hesitantly.
“Let’s see how good you are.”
She took him over to a shooting game. Only one of the mounted plastic guns was free, so they had to take turns. He watched as she racked up points with what seemed like very little effort. When she finished, she made a sweeping gesture with her hand. “Your turn.”
“Thank you.” Maxwell stepped up and went to work, firing at the targets.
When he finished, his score was lower than hers.
“Well, well. You were saying?” Jasmine asked, all cocky.
“I wasn’t saying anything,” Maxwell said, irritated.
“That’s because this time, I spanked your ass.”
“Didn’t you say you had a gun the first night we met? You have an unfair advantage.”
“Quit your whining and take your L like a man.”
“You have a lot to say for someone who got beat three times. I want a rematch.”
Jasmine tilted her chin up. “Let’s go.”
They played two more times, and she beat him once and he scraped out one win.
They continued to challenge each other as they moved through the room.
They played whack-a-mole, another racing game with cars, and retro games like Pac-Man and Space Invaders.
Most of the conversation was them smack-talking each other.
He also was very aware of the proximity forced on them by the loud arcade, which made them have to not only raise their voices from time to time, but he had to lean in close on occasion to hear what she was saying.
At some point she pushed up the sleeves of her sweatshirt, and he was conscious of the warmth of her arm against his as they crowded around the same machine.
After he beat her at air hockey, Jasmine threw up her hands in defeat. “I don’t believe you that you’ve never been to an arcade.”
Maxwell moved away so the teenagers waiting nearby could get their turn.
“I said I’ve never been to an arcade. I never said I haven’t played video games before.”
“Where did you play?” Jasmine asked.
“At a friend’s. His father had a man cave in the basement and had all kinds of games, including air hockey.”
“You never mentioned that.”
“You never asked. And don’t act innocent. You were way too excited to play the shooting game, and you beat me good. Which makes me suspect you’ve played that a lot.”
“Not just the game. I’m a pretty good shot in real life. I used to go deer hunting with my granddad in Virginia. We made chili, cheeseburgers, casseroles... ugh. I got tired of venison.”
“Hunting. I would have never guessed. You’re full of surprises.”
“My dad didn’t like it, but my mom’s side of the family...” She shrugged. “That’s what they did. I don’t hunt anymore, but I go to the gun range to stay sharp. I got my first gun at twelve. Twenty years ago.”
“You’re thirty-two.”
“That’s right. I turned thirty-two last month.”
“I’m twenty-nine.” He stroked his chin. “You know, I’ve never dated an older woman.”
“You’re not dating one now, either. We’re friends, remember?” Jasmine reminded him.
“Oh yeah.” Maxwell nodded slowly, his gaze remaining on her. “Right.”
“When do you turn thirty?” Jasmine asked casually.
“July fourteenth. I’ll make sure to send you an invitation to what will be an exceptional party.”
“Make sure you do.”
“You have to come alone, though. You can’t bring Nicholas Tight Pants.”
“There you go, acting like a jealous hater again.” She glared at him. “How about we get something to eat?”
“Good idea. All this winning has worked up an appetite.” Maxwell patted his belly.
Jasmine rolled her eyes and marched off toward the food counter.