Page 33 of Last Call Lindy Hop
“I know, right?”
He swallowed, and I watched his Adam’s apple bob.
Why was I so fascinated with him?
I cleared my throat and stood, walking over to my game consoles. “What’s your fave? Racing? FPS?”
“Racing,” he stated.
I grabbed the controllers and walked back to the couch. I handed Lance one, then started scrolling through my games collection. Finally I selected a racing game I thought we could both enjoy and glanced at Lance as the title screen appeared.
He was focused, and…
I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
My controller vibrated as my car ran right into something.
“Damnit!” I grumbled as I turned to the screen.
“Catch up,” Lance joked. “Don’t go easy on me.”
“You deserve nothing but my best,” I teased back.
“Damn straight.”
I put all my skill into the race, but my early screw-up left me unable to catch up and he finished a full two seconds ahead of me.
“Yes!” Lance cheered as the results screen appeared.
I glanced over again to see him grinning—actually grinning. And he was stunning.
My pulse quickened, and something stirred within. It was everything I wanted, but now I needed more. Once, twice, three times. I’d never be able to get enough of his smile.
The selection screen music cut in, and I turned back to the television as I selected my car for the next race. Lance wanted my best, and I wasn’t going to disappoint him.
Two hours passed in a blur of races, pizza, and the glorious sound of Lance laughing and being happy.
I’d just won another race when Lance set his controller on the coffee table and leaned back on the couch. “I think I need a break.”
“Soda?” I asked, placing my controller next to his.
“Sure.”
“Anything in particular?”
“Aw, whatever’s fine.”
“Cool.”
A sort of giddiness had descended on me as we’d played. Even when we were competing, Lance had seemed to come out of his shell.
I’d finally gotten a glimpse of the person he could be, and I never wanted him to retreat to his walls again.
I grabbed a couple bottles of root beer and popped the caps, then carried them back to the living room.
“Ooh, fancy,” Lance noted with a smile. “Root beer in actual bottles.”
“I don’t splurge on most soda, but canned root beer just doesn’t cut it for me.”
