Page 39 of The Check Down

She doesn’t watch sports, but I think maybe she’d come to support me and even Beau if not for the risk of running into Cockburn. As far as I know, he’s still clueless about his ex-girlfriend living with a player of the team he works for. When she moved out, Brynn told him she was staying with someone from work until faculty housing opened up.

“Hmm. Maybe.”

I leave it at that, and we finish our brunch in companionable silence. Afterward, as I pull up to our next destination, Brynn angles forward in the passenger seat and peers out the windshield.

“It’s an arcade?”

“What better way to follow up eating at Arcade than to spend time in anactualarcade?” I put the truck in park and shift so I’m facing her. “It’s not a Memphis institution like the restaurant, but I promise you a good time.”

She swivels my way, her lips parted and her brow furrowed. “But it looks closed.”

She’s not wrong. There’s only one other car in the lot. Even on a Tuesday afternoon during the school year, this place is typically busier.

“It’s not closed to us,” I tell her as I push my door open.

Catching my meaning, she gasps. Then she scrambles out of the truck. “Wait,” she says as I head for the entrance. “You rented it out?”

“Yep.”

“Griffin.” Her tone is firm, but her voice is farther away than it has been.

I grasp the door handle and look back, finding her feet planted on the asphalt of the parking lot, hands locked on her jean-clad hips. She’s paired them with a soft blush-colored sweater that’s both cozy as fuck and tight enough to tantalize.

“Why?”

I lift a shoulder. “I didn’t want you to have to deal with a repeat of Friday night.”

She steps closer but doesn’t cross the threshold. “You didn’t have to do this, you know. But since you did, I’m ready to kick your ass in some Skee-Ball.”

“Pfft. We’ll see about that.” I trail behind her as she steps into the neon glow, doing my best not to stare at her ass. “I majored in Skee-Ball.”

Her sweet laughter fills the space as we step up to the counter to collect our tokens from the lone employee, a bored, college-age girl who doesn’t even look up from her phone as she hands us the buckets.

“Where to first?” I ask as we survey the place. The room is dark, the only sources of light coming from the machines. Every arcade game imaginable winks at us with bright, come-hither lights.

“How about we put that degree to the test? Skee-Ball.” She darts around a couple of head-to-head game tables and makes her way to the lanes on the opposite wall.

“You’re on, professor. Prepare to be schooled.”

Eyeing one another, we drop our tokens, and when the heavy balls are released, we begin. My aim suffers because I can’t help but keep my eye on Brynn’s score. We’re neck and neck until she sinks her last ball into the 10,000 hole near the top of the bull’s-eye.

“Yes!” With a pump of her fist, she spins my way. “Rematch?” The competitive gleam in her eye is so fucking hot. I fight the urge to haul her body into mine and kiss that gloating smirk off her lips.

Holy shit, Lacey, cool your jets.

I swallow back the desire that’s threatening to take over and grin. “You’re on.”

We play three more rounds and end up tied, two-two. Next, we take on the basketball shoot-out. Though I’m certain my height will make this an easy victory, I barely eke out a win.

“Are you a ringer?” I growl after she sinks another basket during the second round.

“Ha! Definitely not.” This she says as her next ball teeters on the rim and drops into the net.

“For someone who isn’t into sports, you sure are good at this.” I miss my next shot and push up the sleeves of my Henley.

When the timer buzzes, Brynn is in the lead.

“I think it’s time we up the stakes.”

---