Mickie
Games.
As in, arcade games.
And I had been worried.
Dawson brought me to an 80s-themed arcade bar that was full of vintage games. I had to admit, it was one of the last things I would have expected from a guy who looked like the Undertaker.
Don’t get me wrong, a really sexy Undertaker.
But this was a guy who hadn’t laughed once since I’d met him, and who acted like it physically pained him to smile. Yet he took me to a place where my inner child was having a field day.
Contrary didn’t even begin to describe him.
He was a jigsaw puzzle that I desperately wanted to piece together.
“I don’t get it!” I said, scowling at the screen and throwing my hands up in frustration. “I used to be a Pac-Man champion. I’ve completely lost my touch.”
I pushed away from the machine in mock disgust, waiting for a hint of a smile from him.
Hell, I would pounce on a twitch of his lips.
“I’d like to take your word for it,” he said, walking beside me as we assessed the long row of machines. “But we abide by the whole ‘I’ll believe it when I see it’ mentality in my family.”
It wasn’t a smile, but his teasing tone was an acceptable substitute.
“How are you so good at all of these?” I asked. “You’ve gotten the high score on, like, every game we’ve played.”
He raised an eyebrow. We were getting close to a smile. “Do I not look like the video game-playing type to you?”
“Honestly? No, you don’t.”
He leaned in close when he had to squeeze his way around a large group of people huddled around a machine. It brought his scent so close to my nose… And whatever that spice was, I wanted it wrapped around me from head to toe.
“Fair enough,” he replied. “This place actually reminds me of somewhere my brothers and I used to go all the time back in Washington, D.C. That’s where I grew up. I like to come here every now and then.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It probably sounds stupid, but this place is kind of a stress reliever for me.”
“I get it,” I said. And I really did. “The concert tonight? Listening to reggae music kind of does the same for me.”
When he nodded, I felt encouraged to probe for more. “So, do you live here in College Park? Or still in D.C.?”
Since the University of Maryland was in College Park, I kind of hoped he’d say he lived here. He stopped at a Space Invaders machine and started a new game. I stood behind him and watched, fascinated with how comfortable he was at the controls.
“I actually live in Baltimore,” he said. “I saw the Rasta Roots in D.C. a couple of years ago and wanted to hear them again, so I just decided to drive down.”
“What do you do in Baltimore?”
I hoped I wasn’t being too nosy. But Baltimore was only about a forty minute drive, and I was excited at the prospect of seeing him again.
Once again, he got the high score, and we switched places.
“I just work a factory job right now.”
There was a moment of silence, and I briefly took my eyes off the game to peek up at him. He looked pensive, so I waited for him to continue.
“I was actually thinking of joining the police academy,” he said in a low voice.
When my character died, I gave it up and faced him. For some reason, he wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“That’s awesome,” I said. “Have you applied and everything?”
He shook his head. “Nah. I don’t know if it’s the right fit for me. It was just something I’d been thinking about.”
But it sounded like he’d been doing a lot of thinking about it.
I put my hand on his arm, finally drawing his attention back to me. “If it’s what you want to do, you should go for it. You’ll never know if it’s the right fit if you don’t try.”
His piercing eyes narrowed, spearing me with a too intense look. It was a look that made my stomach twist and my pulse spike.
“You have a point,” he said, his tone sincere. “I’ll consider it.” It was a few minutes and another game later when he said, “You never mentioned where you’re from.”
I laughed and immediately tried to smother it with my hand. I was told I had a very loud, very boisterous laugh. “Isn’t it obvious?”
I knew my accent was thick and beyond noticeable.
His gaze met mine. Another almost-smile. “My guess is Jersey.”
I nodded. “Very good. Yep, Jersey girl, born and raised.”
We walked past a popcorn machine, and the smell of buttery, salty goodness pulled me in, making me realize I hadn’t eaten in…hours.
“And now you’re here for college?” he asked. “Studying what?”
“Nursing,” I replied, wistfully. “That’s the end goal, anyway.”
The more he and I talked, the more I realized he wasn’t just a sexy Undertaker with a laughter deficiency. It felt oddly comfortable, walking around an arcade, talking about random things with him. I wasn’t usually so at ease around new people.
But Dawson was unique.
In more ways than one.
I noticed the clock on the wall, and my heart sank. “Ah, crap,” I muttered. “I should get back to the dorms.” I cringed, having figured out he was beyond college age. “That sounds really lame, doesn’t it?”
He snorted. So close to a laugh! “It’s not lame,” he said. “You were willing to come to an arcade bar with me tonight. If anything, I’d say you’re pretty damn cool.”
My heart lifted once again. “I think you’re cool, too.”
Now, that did sound lame.
You’re not in seventh grade, Mickie.
“Can I give you a ride back?” he asked.
The hopefulness in his voice was hard to miss, and it made me melt.
“Sure. If you don’t mind.”
He pinned me with another one of those looks. “I’d never mind.”
My insides were aflutter the entire ride back in his old pickup truck. Though it wasn’t from his busted shocks, which were sending the truck rocking all over the place.
I was just crazy nervous.
Practically trembling with excitement over this guy.
He seemed to be in as bad a shape as me. He was tapping his fingers against the steering wheel and adjusting the controls on the dash, as if he couldn’t sit still. Not to mention the tension between us was becoming almost too much to handle.
Between the reminders of what he smelled like and how his hands felt when they grasped my legs as I sat atop him, my senses were fritzing out.
When he pulled up in front of my dorm, I was so jittery I almost couldn’t open the door. I wasn’t sure what the protocol was here. I’d never gone out with a man like him before. Did he expect a kiss at the end of the night? More than a kiss?
“Thanks for the ride,” I said softly.
“You’re welcome,” he replied, the deep timbre of his voice flowing over me. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
Luckily, it was a short walk.
I don’t think I could have made it much farther before my legs gave out.
I stopped in front of the door and turned to face him, trying to hide my shaking hands. “So, am I going to—”
My question was interrupted…by a loud growling noise.
Coming from my stomach.
Oh, my God.
I froze in place. I had never been more embarrassed in my entire life. Unable to even look at him, I kept my horrified expression focused toward the ground. Maybe it would open up and suck me in, so I wouldn’t have to face his reaction.
Out of nowhere, he let out a loud, full-belly laugh. My head shot straight up. I was entranced by the ear-to-ear smile covering his face and the way it lit up his dark eyes.
“Hungry?” he asked between breaths.
I was still so mesmerized by his smile, my voice came out monotone. “I believe that’s the munchies talking. Weird. I always thought they were a myth.”
He burst into another round of laughter, so I joined in. He so needed to laugh more often. It was a beautiful rumble that started from the base of his throat and was completely contagious.
“The munchies?” he said after he caught his breath. “After only one hit?”
All I could do was nod. “They sort of kicked in a while ago.”
His smile instantly faded, confusing me. His expression turned back to brooding, and I wasn’t sure what I’d said. I wanted his laughter back.
“You’ve been hungry all this time?” he asked, a lethal edge to his tone.
I kept my voice light. “Sort of. It’s no big deal, though. I have plenty of snacks up in my room.”
He took a step toward me, one that brought him flush against my chest.
My heart rate picked up. Dramatically.
“Next time, let me know when you want to eat,” he growled.
Why did he seem so bothered by this? Then my attention caught on his actual words.
“Next time?”
He wanted to see me again?
He leaned in closer, closing the distance between our mouths. “Yeah, Mickie,” he whispered. His eyes penetrated right through me. “Next time.”
His mouth covered mine.
He didn’t ease his way in. Instead, he dominated me with confident swipes of his tongue and insistent tugs on my lower lip with his teeth.
Hell, he owned me with that kiss.
The way his tongue slipped through my lips, the way he ate at my mouth… His actions were both impatient and urgent. And certainly with the way he backed me up against the wall of the building, that was straight desire right there.
Lust.
Not something I was very familiar with, though this wasn’t my first kiss by any means.
But it was my first kiss like this.
A kiss that wasn’t awkward or sloppy. There were no hints of inexperience or uncertainty on his part. And I definitely wasn’t waiting for it to be over. In fact, I arched into him, wrapped my arms around his neck, and pulled him in closer for more. All I could get.
I knew I was going to have his taste on my lips for days.
He branded me with his mouth.
There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that I would ever be able to forget a kiss like that. I knew it from the moment our lips touched. Dawson had just engraved himself into my memory, for all eternity.
Too soon, he pulled away.
And I had to mentally snatch my heart out of his hands before he had the chance to run off with it. Like a thief in the night.
“You laughed,” was my brilliant response after I opened my eyes.
The kiss to end all kisses, and those were the first words out of my mouth.
“What?”
“You laughed,” I repeated. “That was the first time I heard you laugh. And saw you smile.”
His brow furrowed, as if the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I guess I did.”
I smiled in satisfaction. “How about next time I go for a record two laughs?”
His eyes crinkled and my heart warmed. “You’ve got your work cut out for you.”
I bit my lip, tasting him there, and immediately wanted his mouth back on mine. “I’m not worried.”
He leaned back in and whispered, “You’re on.”
He gave me another kiss, though this time it was light and unhurried. There was no tongue, and I sensed he was holding back quite a bit of restrained energy. His hand took mine in a quick squeeze, his fingers caressing my own. Then I was soon without his touch altogether.
He backed up, but didn’t take his eyes off me. “I’ll see you soon, Mickie.”
It wasn’t until I was inside the door of the building that I realized he’d put something in my hand. It was a piece of paper with numbers scribbled across it.
His phone number.