CHAPTER 29
“An escape room? Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask Hayes, irritated and frustrated as he pulls his car to a stop outside the building with the bold, glowing sign that reads Breakout Adventures.
The brightly lit letters mock me as I glare out the window, my thumb rubbing against the silver ring on my pointer finger.
“Nope,” Hayes says, unbuckling his seatbelt with an annoyingly casual smirk. “You got a problem with that?”
“Yeah, I do. You didn’t think you should have talked to me first before you drove us out here?”
Hayes raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “What, and ruin the surprise? Where’s the fun in that?”
I glare at him, my arms crossed tightly over my chest. “The fun would have been not wasting my time on something so ridiculous. We’re supposed to be working on team bonding, not playing games.”
He chuckles, leaning back in his seat as if he has all the time in the world. “This is working on team bonding, Miller. Coach said we need to build trust, remember? What better way than being locked in a room together, solving puzzles?”
I scoff, shaking my head. “This isn’t trust-building. This is some twisted power play so you can lord it over me when I inevitably want to punch you.”
Hayes smirks, his gaze flicking to me with that maddening glint in his eyes. “I don’t know. Sounds like you’re scared you won’t be able to keep up.”
“Scared?” I repeat, my voice rising as I unbuckle my seatbelt. “You wish, Griffin.”
“Then prove it,” he says, his tone challenging as he opens his door and steps out. “Come on, Miller. Show me what you’ve got.”
I let out a frustrated sigh, following him out of the car and slamming the door behind me. The cool air does little to ease the heat simmering under my skin as I trail behind him toward the brightly lit building.
“I swear,” I mutter, shaking my head. “If you screw this up, I’m going to break every bone in your body and I ain’t playing.”
Hayes glances back at me, his smirk widening. “Are you gonna stop making threats any time soon?”
“No, I’m not.”
Hayes shrugs, looking unbothered. “Fair enough.”
I roll my eyes as we reach the entrance, the neon sign above the door glowing like a warning. Whatever this is, it’s already a disaster—and we haven’t even started yet.
A cheerful employee greets us the minute we step inside, ushering us further. The room is dimly lit, with various props and puzzles scattered around, and I can already feel the tension in my chest tightening further.
The employee gives us a brief rundown of the rules and objectives, but I barely hear a word, too distracted by the fact that I’m about to be locked in a room with Hayes for an hour—or however long it takes to get out. Knowing him, it’ll feel like an eternity.
Once we are inside the Escape Room, the heavy door slams shut behind us, the sharp click of the lock echoing in the small, dimly lit room.
A single bulb hangs overhead, flickering slightly, casting long shadows across the mismatched furniture and cluttered shelves.
The air smells faintly of dust and wood polish, like the room hasn’t seen daylight in decades.
I take a cautious step forward, scanning the space.
The walls are lined with bookshelves, old clocks, and framed photographs of people who look like they stepped straight out of the 1800s.
There’s a desk in the corner, its drawers slightly ajar, and a wooden chest sits near the far wall.
The faint hum of a speaker system pipes in eerie music, like something out of a low-budget horror movie.
“Great,” I mutter under my breath. “Creepy vibes and a locked door. Just what I wanted.”
“Scared already, Miller?” Hayes’s voice comes from behind me, dripping with amusement. I turn to find him leaning casually against the doorframe, arms tucked away in his jacket pockets, that infuriating smirk firmly in place.
“Hardly,” I snap, shoving my hands into my pants pockets. “Just wondering how long it’ll take for you to screw this up.”
His smirk deepens, and he steps closer, his presence filling the space like a god. “Relax. I’ve got this.”
“Sure you do,” I mutter, already heading for the desk. “Let’s just get it over with.”
There’s a laminated card propped up on the desk, printed with bold letters: “The answer to your freedom lies where the past holds its secrets. Begin your search there.”
“Cryptic,” I say, glancing at Hayes, who’s busy inspecting a dusty globe on one of the shelves.
“It’s an escape room. They’re all cryptic.” He spins the globe lazily before stopping it with his finger. “So… where does the past hold its secrets?”
“Maybe the bookshelf?” I suggest, pointing to the rows of old, leather-bound books.
Hayes shrugs and moves toward it, his fingers brushing the spines as he scans the titles. “These all look ancient. How do we know which one to pick?”
I crouch next to the desk, pulling open one of the drawers. “Look for something that stands out,” I say, rummaging through the contents—loose papers, an old key that doesn’t fit the chest, and a pocket watch with a frozen time.
“Hey,” Hayes calls out, pulling a thick book off the shelf. “This one’s hollow.”
Inside is a small slip of paper with a riddle: “Time ticks forward, but your path begins where time has stopped.”
“Time has stopped?” I repeat, frowning. “What does that even mean?”
Hayes grins, walking over to a clock on the wall, its hands frozen at midnight. “Let me guess. It’s this.”
“Lucky guess,” I mutter, watching as he carefully removes the clock from the wall. Behind it, there’s a small compartment with another clue: “The key is within reach, but only if you look beneath what’s hidden.”
I glance at Hayes, raising an eyebrow. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs, walking back to the desk and rummaging through the drawers. I try the chest in the corner again, tugging at its stubborn lock, but no luck. After a few minutes of aimless searching, I sigh, frustrated.
“This is going nowhere,” I mutter.
“Maybe because you’re overthinking it,” Hayes says, his tone sharp. “Try using your brain for once.”
I whip around, glaring at him. “What the fuck did you just say?”
“You heard me,” he says, mirroring my glare. “You’re so busy trying to prove you’re smarter than me that you’re missing the obvious.”
I clench my fists, taking a deep breath to steady my voice. “You know what, Griffin? Why don’t you figure it out, since you’re clearly the genius here?”
“Gladly,” he shoots back, grabbing the flashlight from the desk and shining it under the furniture. “Just stand there and look pretty, Miller.”
The insult—if it even is one—makes my chest tighten in a way that makes me want to hit him in his pretty face. I grit my teeth, focusing on the room instead of his stupid smirk.
After another few minutes of searching in silence, I spot something odd about one of the framed photos on the wall. The glass is slightly loose, and when I lift the frame, I find a small compartment hidden behind it. Inside is a tiny, rusted key.
“Found it,” I say, holding it up.
Hayes walks over, his smirk softening into something closer to a grin. “Not bad, Miller. Maybe you’re not useless after all.”
I roll my eyes, handing him the key. “Just open the chest.”
He kneels down, unlocking the chest to reveal a map of the room with more symbols drawn on it. We study it together, leaning close as we trace the paths with our fingers. His shoulder brushes mine, and I try to ignore the heat that rises in my chest at the contact.
“Looks like the last clue is under the floorboards,” he says, glancing at me.
“And how do we get under the floorboards?” I ask.
He shrugs, his smirk returning. “Guess we’ll have to figure it out.”
Eventually, we find the last piece of the puzzle—a trapdoor hidden beneath a loose floorboard. Inside is a switch that unlocks the door, and the sound of the lock clicking open is more satisfying than I expected.
“We did it,” Hayes says, leaning against the doorframe. “Told you we’d make a good team.”
I scoff, brushing past him. “Don’t get used to it.”
He laughs softly, following me into the hallway. But even as we leave the room behind, I can’t shake the feeling that something between us shifted in there. For better or worse, I’m not sure.
After the escape room, we stop by a small diner to grab something to eat.
It sits tucked between two taller buildings in the middle of the city, a cozy little place with warm yellow lights glowing from the windows.
The sign above the door reads Flip’s Diner in faded red letters, and the faint smell of grilled burgers and fresh coffee drifts through the air as we step inside.
The place is quiet—only a handful of customers scattered between booths. The low hum of conversation and the clatter of dishes fills the space, calm and grounding after the chaos we just escaped.
Hayes doesn’t hesitate. He slides into a booth by the window like he’s been here a thousand times before, stretching out comfortably. I linger for half a second before sitting across from him, sinking into the worn vinyl seat and leaning back.
“Admit it,” he says, breaking the silence. “The escape room wasn’t that bad.”
I grab the napkin dispenser, fidgeting with it. “You mean the part where you insisted on solving everything by yourself and almost got us stuck?”
Hayes chuckles, leaning forward slightly. “We got out, didn’t we?”
“Barely,” I mutter. “And only because I figured out the last clue while you were too busy showing off.”
“Details,” he shrugs, unbothered. “Teamwork makes the dream work, right?”
I scoff, shaking my head. “Yeah, if that’s what you want to call it.”
He leans back, stretching comfortably, eyes fixed on me as he flips through the menu like he’s in no rush. Like he’s got all the time in the world.
“So tell me, what made you choose an escape room for our little bonding moment?”
Hayes smiles a little as he glances around the small diner. My guess, to stall.