Page 115 of Composed
A beat passes, then another, before she looks up at me with a cheeky glint.
“What are you—”
She jumps, snatches the ball cap off my head, twisting it backwards on her own, before she darts to the other side of the room and disappears behind the half-pipe, shouting, “Tag, you’re it.”
Yeah, definitely thinking about it…
I slip around the back of the quarter-pipe, keeping my feet light as I tug my phone out my pocket. I swipe over the screen. The music grows louder and the lights dim.
If Hendrix wants to play, we can play, but we’re gonna do it my way.
“You’re cheating!” she calls into the dark.
I follow the sound of her tinkling laughter.
“I don’t recall you setting any rules,” I quip. Metal clinks to the left of me. I spin around, spying a flicker of light. “You know, stealing my hat was a bad idea. The logo glows in the dark, Rixie.”
She scoffs.
“Who still has glow in the dark things in their thirties?!” My cap sails through the air and lands at my feet. “You’re a goddamn child, Cole Hayes!”
Laughter explodes from me as I pick it up and spin it on my head. “Who’s idea was it to play tag?”
I hoist myself up and over the metal and slide down the ramp, before dashing to the other end of the room.
A choked curse hits me, followed by tapping metal as she sprints over the kicker ramp.
I move swiftly, my hands already outstretched.
She doesn’t get a second to escape. She kicks her legs in the air when I band my arm around her waist and haul her into me.
Giggles spill from her, every note setting my body alight.
Her jumper slides up.
My thumb grazes her soft skin, catching on the dangling metal in her belly button.
Hendrix stills, her breath catching.
I freeze.
My chest expands as the air thickens around us.
I feel every beat of her racing heart as it pulses through her body.
A soft noise spills her lips.
My eyes shutter closed, and I ease her down. Only my foot catches on the edge of the ramp, and I careen backwards.
She squeaks, her hands squeezing my arms tight. I tighten my grip on her as my back slams against the concrete. Air whooshes out of me on a grunt.
“Fuck.” I roll her off me, and lay on my side. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she wheezes. “Think you got the brunt of that one, dude.”
I wince, my back twinging as I push up onto my elbow. “Yeah. I’m definitely getting too old for this kind of thing.”
“You’re only thirty-one.” She tuts. “Practically a spring chicken.”
