6. Payton
“Any questions?”
Too many to count.
I shake my head at the instructor before leaning in to sign the release form he’s holding.
I’ve been dreaming, fantasizing, and scheming about dating Erik Nordstrom since the first time I met him. Dinner and a movie. Drinks and dancing. Long walks in the moonlight. Our first date— and I’ve always known there would be at least one— could be anything at all and it wouldn’t matter as long as he was here with me.
“I take it you’ve done this before?” I cock an eyebrow at Erik. “Seems like an unfair advantage, Nordstrom.”
We watch the instructor adjust a row of targets lined up along the far end of our safety enclosure before leaving us alone in the late afternoon breeze.
“Once or twice,” Erik admits with a grin. “But don’t worry, Payton. You’re a natural at violent competition.”
Axe throwing.
It’s not something I would have dreamed up in a million years. It’s also the perfect first date for us. I should know better than to underestimate him by now.
Erik’s amber eyes are warm and bright, soaking up the last rays of sunshine. His hair is down tonight. I like it best this way, falling to his shoulders in thick blonde waves. He looks at home in a soft flannel shirt and worn jeans, a throwing axe held loosely in one massive palm. The dull thud of steel meeting wood rings out around us, punctuated by the occasional cry of triumph or loss.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I hold a hand out expectantly. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle. Need a safeword?”
Erik laughs. It’s a hungry, wicked sound that winds its way into my fleece leggings and settles between my thighs like a pulse. The afternoon breeze is shifting into something cooler as the sun inches toward the horizon. My cable knit sweater dress is snug and cozy in the dropping temperature. It’s also short and just clingy enough to make the most out of my long legs.
I’m not above cheating when it comes to Erik.
We both know that tonight is going to end with us sweaty, naked, and tangled. But for now, the game is still on, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. My relationship with Erik is fierce and competitive to the core— and so much sexier for it. It doesn’t matter who wins, so long as we work each other up on the way to the finish line. And judging by the way Erik’s eyes keep skimming between the hem of my dress and the tops of my leather boots, I’ve already scored the first point.
“See? I told you— you’re a natural.” Erik hands over one of the axes with a smirk. “Come on, Payton. It’s time for violence.”
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
Erik moves with a speed that defies physics. He sinks three axes in quick succession, burying them in a neat line that bisects the center of the farthest target. He’s showing off— and it’s working.
“Not bad, Nordstrom.” It takes effort to keep my voice casual when I’m both impressed and aroused. “Now step aside and let a professional show you how it’s done.”
Erik laughs, unconvinced by my phony bravado. He walks over to the far end of our chain-link enclosure, where a series of thick wood slices are painted with bright red bullseyes.
I can’t keep my eyes off of him. Erik moves with easy, loose-limbed confidence that makes my heart swell with relief. Every step is strong and self-assured, all traces of pain and hesitation gone. He stalks to the target wall with all the grace and power of a lion on the prowl.
Erik’s sleeves are rolled up, the soft flannel cuffed at the elbow to expose his chiseled forearms and intricate tattoo. The dark ink dances in the twilight as Erik works the axes free. He holds two of them in one massive palm, extending the last one out to me.
I’m not the only one fighting dirty tonight.
“All yours,” Erik gestures at the targets. “Relax your shoulders, breathe deep, and don’t overthink it.”
I take the axe with both hands. The polished wood handle is thick and heavy. I swallow hard, trying to fight the image of Erik’s veiny cock nestled in my palm instead. When I meet his eyes again, there’s a spark of recognition in their warm glow.
“Right.” I spin on my heel before he has a chance to say anything. “How hard can this be?”
The axe spins in a wild arc, tumbling end over end before clattering to the ground a foot short of the nearest target. Embarrassed heat rushes my face. To his credit, Erik doesn’t offer platitudes. He simply hands me another axe.
“You’re still thinking too much.” He grips my hips, kicking my legs apart to adjust my stance. “Turn your brain off, Payton.”
Erik’s scent washes over me like clean mountain air. My mouth stays hot and dry even after he resumes watching me from a safe distance. My brain and body are buzzing, too full of endorphins to think now.
I square my shoulders and adjust my grip. Then, mimicking Erik, I swing my arms overhead, releasing the handle in between breaths. The blade thunks precariously into the far edge of the target this time, just grazing the largest red circle.
“Fuck yeah” I pump one fist in the air. “Look at that. Bullseye. Must be worth at least ten points, right?”
Erik laughs at my celebratory dance, but joins in, using his axe-free hand to spin me into a dramatic dip.
“That was much better.” His voice rumbles up through my grip on his biceps. “See how much easier it is when you turn off your brain and just let yourself feel?”
I’m not sure we’re talking about axe throwing anymore.
I watch Erik gather up the hatchets, admiring the way his jeans cling lovingly to those muscular thighs as he moves. My heart is pounding loud enough to drown everything else out. The first stars of the night are twinkling to life above us. Erik is so beautiful it hurts and for the first time in my life, I don’t give a shit about losing.
Why should I care, when I’ve already won?
“Erik?” I gnaw on my lip before plunging forward. “I love you.”
Erik’s axe flies wildly off course before crashing against the chain link fence. He turns, pinning me in place with a look.
“That’s cheating, Payton,” he growls at me.
I laugh at that, stepping in close to rest my palms on Erik’s chest. It’s reassuring to feel his heart beating almost as erratically as mine.
“All’s fair in love and war, big guy.” I lean up on my tiptoes to press a kiss against his chin. “Try not to overthink it.”
Erik wastes no time. He fists one big hand in the base of my hair, gripping tightly as he claims my mouth with his. It’s a hungry kiss, demanding and full of dark promises. He growls against my lips— a feral sound that sends shivers straight to my pussy and makes my knees go weak.
“I love you, Erik,” I say again after I’ve caught my breath. “Please don’t make me wait anymore.”
Erik’s smile is enough to make me lose it again.
“I love you too, Payton.” He presses a kiss against my forehead. This one is sweet and tender. “I’ve loved you my entire life. Before I met you, before I knew what love was. I’ve always loved you.”
His voice is rough with unshed emotion.
“I wanted tonight to be perfect. Everything you deserve.” Erik presses two fingers against my lips when I start to protest. “But then I realized that nothing I do could ever be enough. So I’ll just have to keep trying, every day. I know you’ll challenge me every step of the way.”
I laugh at that, my vision clouded with tears. When I finally find the words to speak again, I’m unsurprised to hear the quiver in my voice.
“Let’s go home, Erik.”
When he takes my hand and leads us to the door, I almost cry again— with relief this time. Two weeks— no, two seasons worth of flirting, teasing, and competition have led to this moment. Despite Erik’s hesitation, it couldn’t be any more perfect.
“Do you want a souvenir? Something to remember our first date?” Erik gestures at the gift shop as we make our way toward the exit.
I shake my head.
“Trust me, Erik.” I squeeze his hand with mine. “I’ll never forget it.”