2. Felix #2
She whipped her head around as her hair swayed, clipped atop her head. She raised her brow, then leaned against the desk as she popped her leg back. “Oh, yeah. I’m on a date.” She braced her head against her palm, still staring at me. “Isn’t he gorgeous?”
My dick jumped and I quickly cleared my throat, turning away and hoping she didn’t notice the bulge growing beneath my jeans.
The employee sighed. “Eh, he’s okay. Just not my type.”
Dream leaned forward, whispering loudly to the woman. “He’s definitely my type. I like them a little crazy.” She giggled.
If only she knew how crazy I can really be.
The woman rolled her eyes and focused on her computer.
“Whatever. You always were into weird shit. Room three is open, by the way. You know the rules…and no smoking this time.” Dream nodded.
“Cool. Head on back, and play nice, you two. We don’t need another lawsuit on our hands. ” Dream blew a raspberry.
What the hell does that even mean?
Before I could muster a word, Dream gripped my wrist and pulled me past the desk and down a small hallway lit only by blacklights.
The paint and graffiti along the walls and surfaces all glowed vibrantly in the purple-blue hue.
“I’m sorry, but do you know her?” I threw my thumb back, motioning toward the employee behind us.
The music thumped louder and I could hear voices from other people.
“What even is this place?” I asked, looking around, both amazed and nervous.
We stopped in front of a closed door labeled with the number three.
Dream spun around, leaned against it, and shouted up at me so I could hear her over the blasting music.
“It’s called Rage Play! Think of it as a rage room that meets paintballing and mashes them together!
” She was adorable as she used her hands to explain.
“And the woman at the front desk? She’s an old friend!
So is the owner of this place! I’m kind of like an investor! ”
I couldn’t hide how I was both shocked and impressed by what she said. More so because even after combing through her online presence, I had no idea.
How did I not know this?
“Come on!” Dream swung the door open. It led into a small room, covered in years’ worth of paint and filled with piles and piles of junk.
“Oh! I almost forgot!” Dream skipped from the room as I stood there and took it all in, noticing a camera and a few speakers which blared the thumpy music.
The sound of her footsteps hurried back and she reappeared, holding two pairs of safety glasses and two white protective coveralls. “You’re going to need these.”
I followed her lead, stepping into the protective gear and placing the glasses over my eyes. Dream covered her mouth and tried not to laugh as I adjusted the hood around my face. “What?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Nothing…you just look a little silly with that on.” She pointed to the hood, strands of my hair shooting out in various directions. Dream walked over and leaned up, using her nails to try and tuck the wild strands back. “How can you wear a mask with such thick hair?”
Before I could answer, she tripped a little, stumbling into my grasp where I caught her.
We both froze, eyes locked as I swear the room went silent.
My heart beat loudly, pounding against my chest. All I could smell was her.
And all I could feel was the warmth of her body against mine, making something stir within me.
“Don’t stop,” I breathed.
Dream’s eyes glistened as she continued to carefully tuck each strand of my hair beneath the hood, grazing the palm of her hand along the skin of my face.
“Your hair is so soft…I like the way it feels when it twists around my fingers.” She pressed her fingertip gently against my face.
“Your skin is surprisingly soft, too. I like the way it feels.”
Fuck…this woman is driving me insane. Focus, Felix. Get your shit together
I cleared my throat, helping her back to her feet. “So…” I struggled to form a single thought, drunk on this weird buzzing feeling she had me experiencing. “So, what exactly are we supposed to do?”
Dream smiled, leaving her hair free from the protective hood.
“Let me show you!” She danced over to one of the nearby walls, picking through an array of objects before raising a bat.
With a grin and a pep in her step, she swung the bat into an old TV set, smashing the glass with raw force.
The woman let out a loud scream-like squeal.
“See?!” She swung the bat a few more times, obviously enjoying herself as she beat the TV to a pulp before popping back up, huffing with red cheeks. “Well, come on! Give it a try!”
I walked over and picked up another bat which was covered in paint, then looked around the junk-filled room. “So, I just…hit things?” Dream nodded, smashing her bat into a blender.
Why does this feel so wrong?
Eyeing the piles of junk, I settled on an old glass window propped against the wall.
I just…swing the bat and break shit. Seems easy enough.
I raised my arm and swung, breaking the window in one go. Glass shattered around my feet as I felt excitement peek through. I swung again, breaking a second window. Adrenaline coursed through my veins at how oddly satisfying it felt to break shit.
I’m starting to see the appeal of a place like this.
I broke some more random shit, swinging the bat as Dream did the same, until I was sweating from overexertion.
I leaned against the wall and pulled the protective hood down as I wiped my forehead.
“Damn,” I huffed. I looked at the bat in my hands, observing layers of colorful paint.
My head raised as I glanced around the room, noticing more and more stains.
“Are we supposed to have paint, too?” I asked.
Dream stood, panting. She tipped her head and pointed to the wall adjacent to me where a small table with a row of paint cans sat.
Next to it was a large open tote filled with what looked like colorful water balloons.
I walked closer. “And what’re we supposed to do with—”
Before I could finish my sentence, Dream ran over and grabbed two of the balloons, throwing them at me. They exploded upon impact, splattering vibrant green and red paint all over the chest of my protective coverall.
I stood there, blinking at what she’d done as I wiped the paint from my face.
Dream watched me closely, her hand pressed tightly against her mouth as if waiting to see how I would respond.
Oh…it’s on.
Without a single word, I slowly turned and grabbed one of the paint cans filled with electric flamingo-colored paint.
“Easy now,” she said, slowly stepping back while smiling.
“What’s wrong? I thought you liked pink?” I teased, inching closer.
Dream stopped and raised a brow. “I do like pink. But I guess it’s no surprise my stalker knows that.
” She cocked her head and within the blink of an eye, I swung the paint can, spraying her entire body with it.
“Fuck, that’s cold!” she shouted through laughter, wiping the paint from her protective lenses.
I let myself laugh, something I hadn’t done in such a long time.
“You know—” I reached down and grabbed a paint-filled water balloon, then turned back to face her. “You don’t have to call me your stalker. I have a name. One I’d very much like to hear you say.” I stepped closer, stopping maybe an inch away from her.
“So?” Dream crossed her arms and looked at me, covered in paint. “Maybe I like calling you my stalker.”
I smiled. “Just because you like something doesn’t always mean you should do it.”
Her irises sparkled. “Says who?”
Fuck…not again.
I tried to control myself and move the conversation back on track.
“You really don’t want to know what it is?
” The tips of my boots hit her platforms as I closed the gap between us, breathing in nothing but her sweet scent.
“You’re not even curious who the man is that’s been stalking you all these months?
” I carefully picked a small bead of paint from one of her stained hairs. “Or why?”
Her eyes raised to mine and I could hear her breathing pick up, matching my own. “Name or no name, you’re still my stalker.”
A low growl rippled through my chest as she continued to speak.
“And as for why, well…” She reached out and booped the tip of my nose, leaving a small dab of electric blue paint behind on my skin. “I’ll just call it fate.”
“I still don’t like being called a stalker. Makes me feel…dirty.”
Dream laughed. “You should’ve thought about that before you decided to stalk me. As for feeling dirty…” She rubbed both her hands along her torso and through the blue paint before clasping them gently on either side of my face, leaving behind two perfect little handprints. “Ha!”
“I see how it is.” I grinned, raising the water balloon I held high enough for her to see.
She squealed and tried to run, knocking some junk over as I chased her.
I threw the balloon and it busted right on her ass, painting it a deep blue color.
“Ha!” I repeated her words back to her then clapped my hands in pride.
Dream gasped, turning to face me with a sinister smile and her own water balloon.
“Wait…how did you—” The balloon hit me straight in the chest, orange paint exploding all along the coverall.
“Yes!” She pointed, proud of herself. “Need to learn to pay closer attention to things, stalker boy.” Her eyebrow twitched as she taunted me, shaking her hips and bobbing her head.
My smile branched higher and I brushed my hair from my eyes. “I’m going to make you say my name, one way or another.” I pushed off my feet and sprinted toward her.
“Only if you can catch me first!” Dream shot off in the opposite direction, the two of us running in circles around the small, crowded room.