Chapter 20: I Like Him

I wasn't going to lose this bet. Grant and I both knew I would kick his ass any time at this game. I took two coins and placed them in the slot to start up the machine. I grabbed my paddle and lightly pushed the puck over to Grant. No matter who started, I would win. I'd been coming to this arcade since I was a child, playing anyone willing until I got so good that I began hustling cocky assholes out of their money. That was what my cousins had meant earlier. Some men didn't like having their asses handed to them by a teenage girl. So, fights would break out, and my cousins would have to step in.

When I was married to Ben, he would throw fits if I won too many games in a row. He would throw such a big tantrum that Seth or Sammy would step in. Whether it was air hockey, skeeball, pinball, pac-man, or hoops didn't matter. If I won more than once a night, I would deal with a very public fight, then a week of silent treatments. Eventually, he stopped coming with me altogether, which made me feel bad. Arcade games were a massive part of my childhood, and I wanted to share those memories with my significant other. So I stopped coming here as well. Now that I thought about it, it had been months since I had been here. But I wanted to reveal this part of myself to Grant. I'm unsure why I felt compelled to bring him here, but I'm glad I did. His response to my skills was beyond expectations and made me happy. Grant's voice pulled me from my thoughts, "Are you ready to get your ass kicked, Letty?"

I couldn't help but chuckle, "I'd rather get it smacked again, but we both know that you're the one who is going down."

Grant's eyes flared with desire, and he smirked, "Challenge accepted."

I faltered, unsure if he meant the challenge of smacking my ass or winning this bet. He only gave me a little time to decide which one before he sent the puck in a straight line to my goal. I quickly blocked and returned it. The puck bounced off the side and slid right into the tiny slot. Shit, I hadn't meant to score a goal right off the bat, but muscle memory was a real thing. I cringed, not wanting to meet Grant's eyes. Ben would've been furious at this point, and I couldn't stand to see Grant that way. Was I testing him? Maybe? Grant seems too good, too perfect, too right not to make me doubt myself.

"Damn. Even deep in thought, you are still amazing at this game." Grant whistled low. My eyes snapped up to his, and all I saw was pure admiration and amusement. He was having fun. Grant gave me a slight wink, "Let's see if you can do that again."

I laughed, uproarious and slightly panicked. I just couldn't believe this man was real. "You really don't care that I'm winning?"

"Oh, I care. I want to know all your secrets, but I'm not a child. I know how to reel in my ego and accept you're out of my league." Grant smiled as he bounced the puck against the sides. It uselessly ping-ponged back and forth before I swiftly hit it back into his goal. I was struggling to keep myself together at this point. I needed this game to be over. Grant placed the puck on his side and tried the move I used earlier, but I deflected and scored once again. I waited to see the change in his demeanor happen. Like so many others, they always started out happy-go-lucky, but it would slowly change as soon as I kept winning.

Instead, after each goal, I saw Grant getting excited, amused, and proud. Was he really okay with me winning? As the buzzer sounded and the air turned off on the table, Grant's face split into a huge grin. He rushes over to me and lifts me up, shouting, "Winner. Winner. Chicken Dinner. The reigning champion continues to hold her title!"

I just stare down at him, utterly stunned by how easy and wonderful it is to be with him. This interaction is what I've been wanting and needing for so long that I'm at a loss for words. Damnit, I was going to cry again. Grant set me down as other people started to whisper and look our way, curious about his antics. Once I was steady, he cupped my jaw and kissed me. It wasn't like our ravenous kisses that were made as a means to an end; this one was tender and full of softness. It was the type of kiss that made you weak at the knees. I yanked back from him, muttering something like, I'll grab us another drink. What was happening?

I didn't wait for Grant to respond. As I approached the packed bar, I watched Seth fill order after order before his eyes landed on me. He quickly said something to the other bartender before he stood before me. My voice sounded like it didn't belong to me, "I like him."

Seth's knowing look almost made the tears break free. He ruffled my hair, "I would too, honey. Have you seen his ass?"

I laugh and shake my head, "He lost to me 14 times and still kissed me."

Seth's eyes widened, "wait. He was praising you for winning with that whole display, not that he beat you?"

"Yeah. We bet on that game, and I annihilated him, and he cheered like it was the greatest thing." I let out a shaky breath and ran my fingers through my hair."He is either the greatest actor ever, or he is really that amazing."

Seth's eyes narrowed on where I knew Grant was. Seth knew the most about my marriage, as he had been there for some of the worst of it. There was a calculating gaze that morphed into indecision in Seth's eyes. He opened his mouth to say something. Then he shook his head, and regret made him swallow loudly. My cousin was hiding something from me. The wheels were turning behind his eyes when he turned back toward me.

"Incoming," Seth said, leaning across the bar. I turned around and caught Grant strolling toward me. He crossed the room so quickly that I couldn't catch my brain up when he spoke.

"Hey, Letty? Can we get out of here?" I could only nod as Grant threw his arm across my shoulders, pulling me in to kiss the top of my head. I sniffed in his tropical scent as I briefly buried my face in his hard chest.

I heard Seth's voice but couldn't tell what he was saying. Grant shifted and waved with his free hand, "Later Seth!"

He made the same gesture to Sammy as we left the underground arcade. As we strolled toward my car, Grant began to chuckle. I looked up at him, "What?"

He shook his head, "Your cousin asked if my fine ass was in shape enough to win the cup this year."

I smiled shyly, "Well? Are we getting a cup this year or not?"

Grant just threw his head back and laughed. When we got to my car, he opened the driver-side door for me. I looked up at him through my eyelashes, "My place?"

His eyes darkened as he closed my door and ran to the passenger side.