Page 4 of Accidentally Kidnapping the Hitman

“Laser tag,” he reads on the front sign, his expression blank. Another shriek floats across the parking lot, carried with the music on the breeze, and it’s sonotWyatt’s thing, it’s laughable.

“You said you wanted a traditional bachelor night,” I point out. “‘No strippers, but the real thing’. That’s what you told me.”

And that’s what I’ve planned. All the raucous, messy, non-Wyatt activities that make up a classic bachelor party. Minus the inflatable dicks and strip clubs, because those might give my prissy bestie a stroke. He asked, and I’m gonna deliver.

“Laser tag,” Wyatt says again, then he turns to me with a slow smile. The flecks of gold in his brown eyes glow in the lamplight, and a shiver rolls down my spine in response. What is with me tonight? I’ve never gotten flustered around my best friend before.

“Annie?” Wyatt says. “I’m gonna fuckingdestroyyou.”

My spine snaps straight.

Oh, it ison.

* * *

Forty minutes later, the back of my cream silk camisole is damp with sweat and I’m crouched behind a stack of tires, breathing hard.

Technically,I’m not supposed to crouch down to hide behind the scenery in here. Just like I’m not supposed to run screaming every time Wyatt pops out from the shadows, or wave my gun around like a loon, spraying laser shots at the ceiling until I lose him again in the maze.

But hey, whoever made those rules didn’t account for Wyatt Kinnear. There’s no fair fight without my antics; no way for me to shoot the little pack on his chest before he’s sniped me with ruthless efficiency. Not a single one of his laser shots is wasted. Are those reflexes from medical school? Or maybe he playedmore video games than I realized as a teenager. Either way, god damn.

“No fair,” I yell when I sense Wyatt getting closer. Can’t hear the thump of his boots or the rustle of his clothes over the pounding music, but I don’t need to. The little hairs on my arms are standing on end, and that means he’s near. “You’re too good at this. Let me put the bag back over your head.”

A low voice answers, only a few inches from my ear. “If you like, Annie.”

I leap up with a shriek and swing my laser gun around, but he’s already gone. Disappeared into the haze and strobing lights.

It’s hot as hell in here, and it stinks like stale teenage boys’ deodorant. The music is so loud it buzzes my ear drums, and the haze itches my eyes. The weird plastic vest I’m wearing keeps chafing on my bare shoulders, and I don’t think I’ve hit Wyatt even once since we started.

It’s the most fun I’ve had inyears.My goofy grin has stretched so wide my cheeks ache.

“Coward,” I yell, shooting randomly into the shadows. “Come and face me like a man.”

The words are barely out of my mouth when a strong arm snakes around my waist from behind. Wyatt knocks the laser gun from my grip in one easy motion and yanks me back against his chest, our plastic vests knocking together. The nozzle of his laser gun prods beneath my jaw, and his words vibrate against my temple.

“Surrender.”

A hot, vicious throb of arousal makes my thighs tremble. I squeeze my legs together surreptitiously, hoping my best friend hasn’t noticed the traitorous reactions of my body.

No, I willnotrub back against him. That would cross every single line between us, never mind the fact that he’s freaking engaged, and gay to boot.Bad Annie.

“That’s not how that gun works,” I point out, fighting to keep my voice level. “You need to shoot my pack, not my neck.”

“Shame.” Even through two thick plastic vests, I can feel Wyatt’s heartbeat thudding against my back. His mouth hovers near my temple, his lips almost brushing my sweat-damp skin. “I like it better this way.”

My breath catches. My brain stalls.

And he uses my moment of distraction to spin me around and shoot my chest pack three times, sniping me at point blank range.

“Murderer!” I yell, snatching up my own gun and shooting wildly at him too, missing every time. Wyatt goes weirdly still for a moment, his expression strange, then he’s back in the game, crouching down and jerking his chin at the maze behind me.

“Run, little rabbit. Run.”

I poke out my tongue and go crashing through a doorway, ready to hide behind another pile of tires.

Best. Night. Ever.

Three

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