Page 58 of Pieces of Me

“You never asked me whatmyfavorite childhood memory is,” he states, grabbing two of the biggest water guns I’ve ever seen from under a workbench. He hands me one, adding, “Whenever I was feeling a little low, my dad would set this up for me. The key is finding the hidden water balloons…” His smile is glorious as he turns his back to me, holding the water gun like a seasoned member of the military. “You got a twenty-second head start.”

I squeal, bouncing on my toes, and then Ibolt, doing everything I can to keep my laughter restrained. I note the few water balloons as I pass them, then run past the lilies, the water fountain, and toward the ferns.

“Don’t hide behind the ferns,” he calls, his back still to me. “That’s the most obvious hiding spot!”

“Noooo!” I whine and hide behind the ferns anyway.

“Nineteen. Twenty! Ready or not… here I come!”

I stay as still as possible, my breathing labored, my heart jumping with excitement as I watch him through the gaps in the leaves. His steps are slow, his eyes shifting from side to side. I grip the gun tighter, my finger on the trigger.

Holden moves from one spot to the next, searching, while I press my lips tight, trying to silence my childish giggles.

“You know the first thing I did when I took over this place?” he asks, moving closer to me. He doesn’t find me, though. Instead, he sits down on the edge of the fountain, giving me a perfect view of his profile. He pulls out his phone, taps it a few times before saying, “I set up cameraseverywhere…”

I step out from behind the ferns, my water gun pointed toward him. “That’s not fair!”

He rolls his eyes.

I press the trigger, but nothing happens. Then I shake it, hearing the water slush around.

Holden chuckles to himself, raising his gun and aiming it right at me. “You’ve never used one of these before, have you?”

I shake my head, eyes wide. “No.”

He stalks toward me, pumping part of the gun back and forth. I walk backward, trying to do the same, but before I can get a single sliding motion, a spray of water hits me directly in the chest. Holden’s so busy laughing he’s not prepared when I shoot him in the nose.

His spine straightens as he runs a hand down his entire face, his look of outrage bursting the bubble of laughter in my chest. “You better run, Regina.”

I don’t know how long we spend chasing each other, hiding behind shelves, ducking and weaving between plant displays. Occasionally, I’ll squeal with glee when I find a water balloon and throw it at him, only getting him half the time. He never misses when he aims one at me. We slip on the wet floor more times than I can count, our bursts of laughter merging, rolling into one. We snap stems off the larger plants as we brush past them, knock over pots, and roll around in the dirt. He doesn’t seem to care about any of it. And I can’t for the life of me recall the last time I’ve laughed like this, though I’m positive it was with him.

“Truce!” he calls out, and I rush behind an aisle of potted flowers, rest my back against it. With my gun to my chest, I take a few moments to catch my breath.

“Jamie!”

I push my damp hair away from my eyes and stay quiet.

“I’m out of ammo anyway!”

My water compartment is still half-full since I haven’t had many opportunities to get him. Clearly, he has an advantage over me. He could probably run through this space with his eyes closed and never hit a thing. I’ve barely stepped foot in here and keep running into dead ends. Add that to the dim lighting, and I’m screwed.

“Jamie?” he calls again, and I can tell that he’s moved, the sound of his voice nearer than before. I didn’t even hear the footsteps. Pulse pounding in my ears, I twist around, trying to look through the gaps of the aisles for him. I spot him just on the other side of the aisle and take one final breath before jumping to my feet and turning to him, water gun raised. I press the trigger, but I didn’t pump enough pressure into the unit, and water dribbles out of the end and onto the floor.

Holden smirks. “Sucks to be you,” he says, right before he reaches up, grabbing the nozzle of the extendable hose hanging from a top shelf. I open my mouth to protest—this wasn’t in the rules—and before I can get a sound out, my mouth fills with cold water, and the rest is a blur. For seconds, I stand there, stunned, unable to move, and he drenches my entire front from head to toe.

Finally coming to, I stick my hands out, trying to block the spray. “Holden, stop!”

He doesn’t.

I drop the water gun and charge at him. “Quit it.”

His laughter is like sunshine warming my flesh. I press my shoulder into his stomach, my arms around his torso as I try to push him back, but he doesn’t budge. Not even an inch. The water’s off now, and he’s still laughing—a rumble of a sound that hits all the right spots. “Okay,nowtruce.”Smartass.

I take a step back so I can glare at him. “Now?” I almost shout, pointing down myself. “Nowis a little late, don’t you think?”

He groans, his head lolling back. “Dammit, Jamie, you’re not wearing a bra!”

As soon as he says it, I feel the cool air float across my hardened nipples. I cover them quickly, my eyes wide.

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