The humor fled from her face. “This whole time, Junior?”
“I needed to know you were okay, Lo.”
Her mouth opened, only for her to close it again like she didn’t know what to say to that.
“I have your diary with me,” I told her. “To give back to you.”
“You took it from Kelly, didn’t you?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“I don’t want it. Too many bad memories. You should burn it.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
She nodded, and we fell quiet for a moment. A much larger discussion loomed, but I didn’t feel ready for it yet, and I could tell from the way Lauren glanced around us, as if looking for a distraction, that she wasn’t either.
“This place is bigger than I remember,” she said. “But that’s probably because there aren’t a hundred screaming Italian kids crammed in here with us.”
Thank god.
She turned and headed toward a machine along the back wall. My gaze dropped to her ass and the way her denim shorts clung to it, and then down over her toned legs. Fuck, what I would give to feel those thighs squeezing either side of my head while I tasted her.
She stopped at a bright pink machine labeled “Powder Mountain” and turned to look at me over her shoulder. “This one was my favorite.”
“I remember,” I said, rounding the pool table.
She frowned. “You do?”
I nodded; I rememberedeverythingabout Lauren. Stepping past her, I plugged the machine in. “You should play a round.”
She smiled, her eyes wide as they fell to the control panel. “I don’t have any quarters.”
I slipped my fingers into my front pocket and pulled out a handful. I was nothing if not prepared. The game cost fifty cents to play, so I popped two in and hit go, leaning back on the next machine over to watch her have her fun. Oddly enough, as impatient as I’d been earlier, I felt no need to rush things now. Watching her in real life was just as mesmerizing as it was online. Her dark eyes creased at the corners as she concentrated, and she bit her lower lip every time she had to perform a particularly difficult move.
“I swear I used to be better at this,” she said when she died a short time later.
“Maybe I can help.” I stepped behind her, bracing my hands on either side of the machine, where the paddles were, forming a cage with my body. “You work the attacks. I’ll work the defense.”
She sucked in a breath and nodded. “Okay.”
We died almost immediately.
“Well,” I said.
She turned in my arms. “That was your fault.”
“How so?”
She waved in my general direction. “The standing.”
I leaned closer, grinned. “Are you saying I’m distracting you?”
“No,” she said.
“The way you’re staring at my mouth says otherwise.”
She huffed and turned back around. “Let’s go again.”