Page 22 of Enemies to Lovers

The lights and sounds invade my senses, and my shoulders ease. The noise will help mask the internal battles I can’t properly disguise. My siblings always joke about my inability to hide my emotions, and I don’t want Val to see the fight I’ve had with myself since I first asked her out.

She’s wearing red tonight, and I half wonder if she did that on purpose, now that she knows my favorite color. I’m not wearing pink, though I considered it. Ransom’s in my head, still giving me that brotherly advice I never know is good or bad. I settled on a gray baseball shirt with long navy sleeves, and a pair of jeans.

Val is so bright next to my muted colors. The lights from the arcade games bounce off her red shirt. It dips low, giving me a view of her cleavage and curves, sticking tightly to her stomach and hips. She’s wearing jeans, too, but they hug her in a way only women can pull off, smoothing over her ass into a pair of red boots that look painted against her calves. Her long, dark hair is down, tickling my knuckles with my hand at her back.

I should say how good she looks, but I’m afraid saying it out loud will only make me believe it more.

We pass the dance games and head toward the token machine. I stick in a twenty, getting us a hundred to start. Knowing our competitive nature, I wouldn’t be surprised if we blow through them in ten minutes or less.

“Are we playing for something or for fun?” Val asks, her eyes bright and wild as she whips her gaze from this game to that.

I lift a brow. Maybe this is a good time to test Ransom’s theory. She might go easy on me, or she’ll be distracted if I… flirt?

“Oh, definitely play for something,” I say, handing over fifty coins. “Whoever gets the most tickets?”

“Hmm…” She taps a finger to her chin, and her nails match her shirt—bright red, with something painted in white on them. A reindeer, I think.

“What?” I prod.

“Seems too easy. I mean, how will you feel when I have over five thousand and you only have a hundred?” She pouts, and I drop my jaw.

“You think so little of me.” I take a token and stick it into the first machine on my right. It’s a stop the dial when it hits a certain number kind of game. I smack the bright green button when it hits theJackpotslot, and three hundred tickets start to spit out.

A victorious grin sets on my lips. Thank God for my luck. “Wanna try that threat again?”

“Oh, if you would’ve missed, I would’ve beensohappy.” She jingles her tokens at me. “Timed competition. Most tickets in fifteen minutes gets to spend them all. Meet you at the prize counter.”

She sticks her hand out, and I shake it to seal the deal. Then she’s off, running straight to a game I can’t see. My gaze drifts to her ass in those jeans, and I have to shake my head to make sure it’s still functioning.

I turn to the dial game. I might stick with this one for a bit. Seems luck is on my side tonight.

Fifteen minutes fly by, and I’ve gotta be over one thousand tickets richer. Val’s already at the prize counter, getting her tickets counted. That wide-eyed smile greets me as I step next to her.

“That pile’s looking a little stingy,” she lilts, nodding at the stack of tickets in my hand. They’re nicely stacked, compact, while hers are a tangled mess.

“Didn’t know we were going for volume,” I tease, wiggling my tickets. Another employee comes up and takes mine.

“Did you only stay at the one game?” she asks while they count, twirling around and leaning against the clear plastic display. I try not to let my gaze follow that cleavage line to her full breasts.

I absolutely fail.

“Till my luck ran out.”

“I thought it was all skill.”

“I wish.” A laugh falls from my mouth. “I’m damn lucky I hit that jackpot when I did.”

“Did you hit it again?”

“Couple times.” I nod to her stack of tickets. “Where’d you get so lucky?”

“Oh, not luck.” She breathes on her fingers and shines them on her chest. “Strategy.”

“And what strategy is that?”

She wiggles a finger to get me to lean in. She’s so short, I have to bend quite a bit. Her breath is warm and rich with mint. Her lipstick has faded, leaving her lips just a shade darker than their natural pink. “I’m not telling you.”

I narrow my eyes, and she laughs, pushing my chest. A faint pop of static electricity snaps through the air and makes the hair on my arms stand on end. Her smile slightly drops, something much darker flashing through her gaze. I swallow hard, the urge to scratch my beard overwhelming, but my body doesn’t seem to want to move.

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