Page 36 of Magic's Rise

My pulse quickens, and I check our surroundings, but at midday during the week, we’re alone in the aisle.

I give the leash a tug. “Oh, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.” He leans down, his breath feathering over my lips, and my eyes drift closed as I tilt my head back for a kiss.

A warm tongue licks from my chin, over my nose, up to my forehead in a broad, wet stripe.

With a shriek, I shove him backward, and he takes off, his cackles filling the air.

“Tris!” Grabbing a red bouncy ball from the colorful bin, I chuck it at the back of his head.

It falls woefully short, bouncing onto the ground and rolling beneath the shelf.

Tris glances back over his shoulder and lets out a bark before he disappears at the end of the aisle.

I give chase and spot him darting down out of view.

My sneakers squeak against the floor as I race to catch up, only to be met with a barrage of foam darts.

Ducking back out of view, I kneel to peek around the corner.

Tris stands with his feet at shoulder width, surrounded by rainbow toys on either side. He lifts the Nerf gun he holds, his finger poised over the trigger and a wild smile on his face. “You’re going down, sparky!”

Excitement bubbles in my blood, and I pull up my hood for protection. “You’ll never take me alive, Dastardly Dan!”

His grin widens as he fires. Darts whiz through the air, but I’m too quick for him, ducking and dodging out of the way.

I race down an aisle of pink and, spotting a two-foot-tall doll box, I snatch it up to use as a makeshift shield as I come around the other end to sneak up behind Tris.

Tris expects my ambush, though, and spins. His laughter rings out as he continues his assault, his aim surprisingly accurate despite the cheap toy. A squeal escapes as a dart grazes my bicep, the foam tip bouncing off.

“Ha! I’ve taken out your arm!” Tris crows. “It’s no longer useful!”

My hold shifting on the doll box, I tuck my wounded arm behind my back. “‘Tis but a flesh wound! You’ll have to do better than that to take me down!”

He cocks his Nerf gun. “Is that a challenge, sparky? There’s no love in war.”

I peek around my shield, my heart racing. From several steps away, Tris takes aim and fires.

A single dart flies straight at me. I dodge to the side, narrowly avoiding the foam projectile, and race forward.

“What the…” Tris rattles his weapon, realizes that he’s run out of darts, and lunges toward the shelf that holds the refills.

But he moves too slowly.

I crash into him, smacking him under the chin with my box. “You’ve been beheaded, Dastardly Dan!”

“Oh, no!” Tris collapses to his knees, dragging me down with him. “I hath expired of head loss.”

Giggles escape as I land on top of him. “Hath?”

He squints up at me. “I’ve been reading Ros’s books.”

“Oh, hath you?” I shove the doll into his face. “Did they teach you how to treat a queen?”

His eyes cross as he studies the doll. “Not sure I’d call bathing suit Kristy royalty.”

With a gasp, I sit up, straddling his waist and hugging the box to my chest. “Are you judging what a woman can or can’t wear?”

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