Page 53 of If You Need Me

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She doesn’t reply.

Forty-five minutes and a brief ten-minute nap later, I’m outfitted in paintball gear, holding a paintball gun, while Sam and Isaac do jumping jacks and knee-ups in preparation for whatever is about to happen. I still have no idea what Sam does for a living, but he seems to love paintball guns.

There are several things I am not a fan of, one being clowns, two sauerkraut, three heights, and lastly, but also most importantly, I am definitely not a fan of dark, confined spaces. And it turns out, that is essentially the whole point of paintball. I have a raging anxiety boner, the head of which is tucked uncomfortably into the waistband of my pants. My skin is gritty with salt. Places that shouldn’t be chafed are really fucking chafed.

And to add insult to injury, we’re surrounded by an exceptional number of teenage boys, who scream incessantly at eachother, and a few girls who obviously got dragged along for the ride. I relate to their lack of enthusiasm.

We enter the paintball room. At this point, I’m just trying to hide, and maybe take a small break so my legs can stop feeling like overcooked spaghetti.

A gaggle of noisy teens is headed my way, their giggles and swearing giving them away. I’m forced to leave my protective cover as they draw closer.

Sam’s booming voice echoes through the vast room. “Two o’clock! Light him up!”

Paintballs slam into my arms, legs, back, and chest. I aim shots in their direction, but I’m decidedly shitty at paintball, and every one goes wide. I don’t think it can get worse, until one hits me right in the anxiety boner, taking me to the ground.

I curl into the fetal position and pray for death. Instead, Isaac’s black-booted feet appear in my vision. “You all right, buddy?”

“That was a nut shot,” I groan.

“Sam’s dirty like that.” Isaac extends a hand. “I should have warned you to wear a cup.”

Who needs a cup for paintball? Apparently these guys.

I would prefer to stay on the floor for the rest of the day, even if it means being trampled by teenagers, but I really want Wills to sit on my face, so I let Isaac help me to my feet.

Thankfully, Sam eventually runs out of paintballs, and Isaac expresses how hungry he is. I’d be down for a giant buffet.

We change out of our paint-covered clothes—I would love a shower to wash away the grit, but that’s not on the menu yet—and we climb back into Sam’s car and drive to a restaurant. I order four appetizers and two meals and reluctantly share them with Willy’s brothers.

I’m fantasizing about a large pizza and a nap when Sam says, “There’s an escape room close to my place that I’m dying to try out. You up for that?”

I pause with my fork halfway to my mouth. He doesn’t looklike he’s joking. All I want is my bed. But again, I think about Wills and how much I want the reward that comes with her brothers’ fucking approval. “Yeah, man, absolutely.”

“Awesome!” Isaac gives me a thumbs-up. It seems to be his thing.

“Want me to see if some of the guys from my team are interested?” Ash loves these things, and Roman and Hollis would probably be down. I could also use a buffer from the intensity of these two. They’re seriously high octane. I thought I had energy to burn, but these two are next-fucking-level.

“Seriously?” Sam asks.