Page 25 of Stone's Promise

The game screen flashed, and our little challenge began. As much as I wanted to focus on the game, I couldn’t ignore the way my heart raced, not from competition, but from the way Cody was watching me.

Bright colors danced across the screen. Our characters lunging at each other in a flurry of punches and kicks. I gripped the joystick, my competitive spirit ignited.

“Let’s see what you’ve got, queen of the ring.” Cody laughed.

With a determined flick of my wrist, I executed a series of combos, each hit echoing with a satisfying thud. My character was quick, darting around the screen while I shouted out victory taunts. “You’re going to need more than that to beat me!”

He was no slouch. I felt the pressure as he began to rally, his character countering my moves. The arcade noises faded into a backdrop, and it felt like it was just the two of us, our laughter and banter, and the thrill of the game connecting us.

“Ha! Gotcha.” I squealed as my character landed a critical hit.

He groaned, mock despair etched across his face. “Beginner’s luck. I’m just letting you have this one.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” I grinned, caught up in the fun, even as a flutter of anticipation danced in my stomach.

After a few more rounds, I was done, my cheeks flushed. I glanced at Cody, who was grinning ear to ear, clearly enjoying himself. “Okay, okay, you’re better than I expected,” he admitted, leaning back against the machine.

After our rounds of fighting games, we made our way over to Space Invaders. Our score was a tie. Then we headed to the pinball machines, the bright lights flashing as we took turns racking up points. My competitive side surged once again, and I found myself giggling and squealing as I pulled the flippers, each successful shot sending a rush of adrenaline through me.

“C’mon, Em, you’re killing me.” He shook his head in mock defeat as I scored another jackpot.

“I think you’re just being nice,” I teased.

He hooded his eyes, his expression light. “Me, nice? I’m just letting you have your moment of glory.”

As the game concluded and I racked up the highest score, I couldn’t help but boast. “What did I tell you? Queen of the ring! I mean, Queen of Pinball.”

He threw his hands in playful surrender. “You got me. Next time, I’ll actually try.”

We stepped away from the game, and I realized I was starting to feel a gnawing hunger in my stomach. “So, what are we doing for food?” I asked, stretching slightly as I glanced around the arcade.

Cody looked thoughtful. “There’s this Thai place I like. They’ve got great pad see ew and spring rolls.”

“Sounds good,” I replied, but then hesitated. “Would you mind if we do takeout instead? I just want to decompress away from people and their phones.”

He nodded, understanding written all over his face. “Yeah, I get that. Let’s head to my place.”

As we walked toward the exit, the fresh air hit me like a welcome wave, and I felt lighter, freer. This outing had been exactly what I needed.

Once in the truck, I glanced over at him, surprised by how comfortable this all felt. “Thanks for today. It’s been nice.”

He shot me a genuine smile, one that reached his eyes. “Anytime. I enjoyed it.”

We got our takeout and proceeded to his place. Cody’s house was exactly what I expected: neat, buttoned-up, but still lived-in. The living room was simple but comfortable, decorated in neutral tones with subtle touches that reflected his personality. A few framed fight posters lined one wall, while a sleek leather sectional took up most of the space, looking as inviting as it was well-worn.

I took in the details as I walked further inside, my gaze drifting toward the fireplace mantel. The framed photos caught my attention first. They were snapshots of Cody’s past, frozen intime. One showed him in uniform, standing tall and proud, his sharp features serious but confident. Another was of him with his team, arms draped over each other’s shoulders, their grins easy despite the rugged setting. My fingers hovered near the frames, tracing the edge of the glass.

Cody stepped up beside me and handed me a cherry soda, one of those pseudo-healthy ones that promised the world in a tiny aluminum can. “You ordered this back at that Italian place. Figured I’d try it myself.”

I accepted it from him. “Did you like it?”

“Too sweet, but I'm glad I still had it in the fridge.” His voice grew quieter as he saw the picture I looked at. “That was my first deployment.” His hand brushed against the small of my back, resting there as he pointed to another picture. The simple contact sent a ripple of awareness through me.

“And this one?” I asked, pointing to a photo of a much younger Cody. He stood beside a broad-shouldered man I assumed was his uncle, along with another guy in boxing gear.

“My uncle and his best friend, one of the first boxers he ever trained. I was just a kid, but I was obsessed with it. Spent every weekend in the gym, watching and learning.”

I smiled, appreciating these glimpses into his past. He wasn’t the type to volunteer information easily, so the fact that he was sharing this with me made my stomach flutter.

---