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Tyler gets a million bazillion points on his turn. It’s cute that I waschoosingto lose, because there’s no choice here. I lost the moment I made the deal.
His light-blue eyes dance back at me. “Your form is all wrong.”
“There’s no form in pinball.”
“Sounds like I’m going to have to show you what I’m talking about.” He sets his shake down on the table near us; then he looks over his shoulder to where Krew is playing a car-racing game. Once he’s satisfied that Krew isn’t watching us, Tyler walks to me. “You’re a teacher; you know the value of ahands-ondemonstration.”
Hands on?
My body breaks out into a cold sweat just thinking about what that might mean.
I straighten as Tyler steps behind me. His body presses my hips into the pinball machine, and his hands cover over the top of mine. His chin hovers just above my shoulder, and forget about the game—I’m the one pinned here, between Tyler’s muscular arms and chest.
He takes my hand, pulling the plunger back on the machine and releasing it, sending the next ball flying into the game. He takes our hands and moves them to the buttons on the side.
“Use the bumpers to get points,” he says into my ear, and there go the chills again. “If you can, let the ball slide down the flipper to the very end before you shoot it back out.” His fingers continue to tug mine with his. “And, most importantly, when the ball gets to the bottom of the machine, use only one flipper. If you try to use both, the ball will fall, and you’ll lose.”
I watch the ball bounce around inside the glass.
Lights are going off. Sounds are beeping.
And I feel like the same thing is happening inside my body.
I’m a freaking pinball machine, and Tyler is the ball, making me go wild.
“Got it?” he asks.
“Yep.”
Nope. I wasn’t even listening.
“Your turn.” He lets go of my hands.
The ball is at the top of the machine. I have a few seconds to get my bearings straight. But all that goes out the window when Tyler scoops my hair off my shoulder and brushes it back from my neck. Without the strands as a buffer, I feel his stubbled cheek against my skin, and it’s glorious. Then his hands wrap around my torso, and I close my eyes.
My body temperature rises, and my breaths come in short, fast bursts.
Would it be wrong to make out in an arcade? Because I’m seriously thinking about it.
Bom, bom, bom.“You lose!” the machine sings.
“What happened? You didn’t even try to shoot the ball out.”
What happened is that your arms wrapped around my waist, and I can’t focus on anything but how nice it is to be held by you.
“I guess I lost my focus,” I say.
“I can’t imagine why.” I can hear the amusement in his voice. “It looks like I get to walk you to your door.”
If a simple game of pinball looks like this, what is our door scene going to be like?
* * *
TYLER
I may be playing it cool, but I’m nervous. I haven’t walked a woman to her door in over eleven years.
I leave Krew in the car out front, but I can still see him—and more importantly, he can still see us.That makes things interesting.
