Page 19 of Hard Count (Newhouse University #4)

DREW

“Have you ever been here before?” I ask Nash, glancing around the arcade. It’s a cool place. They have a full bar and dining area in the very back. There are more pinball machines than I’ve ever seen in one room along with other coin-op type games.

“A few times last year when they first opened,” he replies, handing me a game card he just filled with money. I told him on the way over that we can split everything tonight but he shut down the thought real quick. “I prefer playing video games at home.”

He clicks around on the kiosk and adds money to his game card. I admire the way his bicep and tricep muscles flex with literally the push of a button. He smirks into the machine—which I know isn’t doing anything funny—he must feel my eyes on him.

His jeans and cotton shirt look like they were custom made the way they are molded to fit his muscular thighs and arms. The gold chain he wears around his neck only adds to his appeal.

Everything about Nash is attractive to me.

From the way he looks to the way he carries himself.

For as long as I’ve known him, he’s always had this magnetic personality that drew people in.

“You don’t like being around people,” I state.

He throws his arm over my shoulders and pulls me into his side.

“I like being around you. I don’t mind other people but I feel like I have to constantly be on.

I’m Nash Pierce, the quarterback to everyone on campus.

They’re all watching, waiting for me to mess up.

Their friendship depends on how well I play. ”

“That would be difficult,” I say, as he leads us toward the bar. “You don’t have to be that way with me. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be yourself.”

He stops walking and turns toward me. “You are one of the few people I can be real with. From the very beginning you put me at ease.”

“It was all the insults,” I joke. His lip twitches in amusement but his eyes hold a level of affection that makes me suck in a slow, quiet breath.

“It was you,” he says, gliding his hand over my shoulder and down my arm. He takes my hand in his and laces our fingers together. “Do you want a drink?”

“Sure.” I chew on my bottom lip while glancing over the drink menu they have written on a giant chalkboard behind the bar.

“Two Shirley Temples,” Nash requests from the bartender before I can come up with a drink order on my own. “Is that okay? You were drinking one the first time we met. ”

“It’s perfect.” You’re perfect . “You can drink if you want. It doesn’t bother me.”

“I don’t drink when I’m competing.” He grins.

“We’re on a date, not in a competition.” I take a sip of my drink.

“Baby, I’ve been competing with you from the start.”

We have been challenging each other from the moment we laid eyes on each other. “For what?” I ask.

He picks up his drink and stretches out his empty hand for me to take. “Your heart.” He gives my hand a playful squeeze but his bold tone leaves no room for misunderstanding. If I was unsure of what Nash’s intentions were before, they are crystal clear now.

He wants me.

“That’s a pretty big prize,” I say. My heart is not something I give freely. If anything, I hold it tighter than necessary. It’s battered and bruised and needs to be handled with care.

Why do I think he’s just the man for the job? Nash somehow understands the extreme fear I have with letting someone new into my life. He's patient to the point I wonder if I'll be the one making the first move.

“I’ll settle for that kiss tonight.” He drops my hand and wraps his arm around my back, pulling me into his chest.

Tilting my head back, I look at him and say, “You’ll have to beat me first.”

He chuckles then kisses the center of my forehead. My skin tingles and my stomach does a little flip with every touch .

“What do you want to do first?” he asks. We walk past a few car racing and first hand shooter games. He could win those with his eyes closed.

“How about a classic?” I nod toward a water shooting game. It’s similar to one you would see at a carnival except you have to shoot water at moving targets on a screen.

“It’s on.” He drags me toward the game. We put our drinks down on a small table to our left and take our seats. Swiping our cards, we select the two player option.

I place one hand on the water shooter and the other on the start button. “On the count of three.”

He places his hand on top of mine. “Count with me.”

Our eyes lock and we begin to count. On three his hand presses against mine. The sound of water spraying against the game’s screen and dinosaurs roaring in annoyance pulls our attention away from each other and back to the game.

Dinosaurs run in between plants, trees, and large rocks trying to dodge our water. It takes me a minute to figure out you have to hold the water on the dinosaur to get more points.

“You’re really good at this,” I say, as he racks up points tracking down pterodactyls flying through the sky.

“It’s not too far off from some of the games I play at home.”

“Lucky you.”

“You’re doing good. Hold it steady and keep an eye on the left. They keep popping out of there. If you get them on that side, I’ll knock ‘em out over here.”

“You shouldn't be helping me. We’re supposed to be competing against each other.” I jerk my water gun left and attack a bunch of raptors.

“I like it when we work together. We make a good team. Don’t you think so?” He glances over at me, waiting for my response as time runs out on the clock.

“Yeah, I think we do too.” My cheeks warm and I’m grateful the game is over so I can take a sip of my drink.

Nash swings around on his stool until he's facing my direction.

I grab my drink and take a sip. He places his hands on my thighs and spins me until my legs are trapped between his.

“What do you want to do next? We can play another game or get something to eat.” His fingers drift lightly over my jeans.

The way he’s touching me makes me want to surrender and let him claim his winning kiss now.

“Skee-Ball then pizza?” I ask instead.

“Sounds good, baby.” He squeezes my thigh then leans forward to grab his drink behind me.

My chin hits his shoulder and I turn my head toward his neck, inhaling his woodsy cologne.

He moves closer causing my lips to skim his jawline.

The pads of his fingers still resting on my thigh dig deeper into the fabric of my pants.

“Sorry,” I whisper as I pull away.

“You never have to apologize for touching me. Let’s see if your arm is better than mine.” He winks.

I huff a laugh. “I think we both know how this is going to go.”

“I can use my right arm if you want. ”

“I don’t think so. If I’m going to win against you, it’s going to be without any advantages.” I suck down the rest of my drink and place it in a bus tub as we pass. Nash stops and does the same.

Two of the four lanes are empty on the left side of the row.

The other two are occupied by a couple of guys in high school.

Seniors if I had to guess. I pick the lane beside them and they smile over at me.

Nash presses his chest into my back and wraps his arm around me from one shoulder to the other.

The guys glance up at Nash and I have to roll my lips to keep from laughing. They throw the last few balls they have down their lane in rapid fire succession then high tail it away from us.

“I know you aren’t threatened by a couple of teenagers.” I spin out of his hold and put a hand on my hip.

“Threatened? No. I just didn’t appreciate the way they were looking at you.” He swipes his card on the card reader and a dozen balls roll down the rack. “I want to have fun with you and not be annoyed with a bunch of kids.”

“Let’s have fun then.” I swipe my card and start my game. I grab a ball and get ready to toss it up the ramp while Nash pulls out his phone. “Why are you taking photos?” I side eye him.

“Because whether we want it to or not, our lives will flash forward without our permission and I want evidence of our first date to look back on anytime I want.” He motions his arm for me to continue as if what he said was a throwaway comment .

I gather up what I can of my melted heart and square my shoulders. Winding my arm back, I roll it down the lane. The ball pops up and bounces into the middle target for five hundred points. With an excited smile on my face, I turn toward Nash just in time for him to snap another photo.

“You’re going to be obnoxious with the photos, aren’t you?”

“I am. Come here. I want to get one of the two of us.” He drapes his arm around me like he did earlier in front of the teenagers. With the Skee-Ball game behind us, we both smile into the camera. He dips his head and kisses the side of mine and snags one more photo.

“I’m going to take your phone away if you don’t stop staring at it.”

“I can’t help myself. You look good, baby.” He takes his eyes off his phone to look at me for a moment.

“Then you should watch the real thing kick your ass,” I say over my shoulder before tossing another ball.

He grins and pockets his phone. I can feel his eyes on me as I take another turn.

“You’re right, this is much better.” He picks up a ball, rolls it down the lane and banks it on the left side to make it hop into the top right corner for a thousand points.

I would say it was a lucky shot but he does it three more times in a row.

“Did you grow up in an arcade?”

“Not quite but I did celebrate almost all of my birthday parties at an arcade or a bowling alley. This was one of my favorite games. ”

“What were your other favorites?” I curse when my ball bounces off the edge of the hole earning me zero points.

“The place we went to when I was a kid had a baseball simulator. It was a lot of fun. I still hit up the cages on campus every now and then. It’s a nice stress reliever.”

“Do you ever wish you stuck with baseball instead of football?”

He picks up a ball and juggles it in his hands. “The first year was tough. I missed traveling with my friends. I felt like the odd man out being the only one playing football.” He throws the ball and scores another thousand points. He’s definitely going to win this game.

“Sounds like that was a hard transition.”

“It was but my coach in high school saw my potential. He was right. Once I started focusing on one sport I got better. I may not have gotten my scholarship to play at Newhouse which means I wouldn’t have met you. My life would be completely different.”

“I’ve always thought life ends up just how it should. Even the hard parts of life serve a purpose.” I throw my last ball and by some miracle it drops in the top left corner for a thousand points.

“What do you mean?”

I shrug. “I don't know. I like to think I didn’t go through everything I did just so I could have a crappy childhood. It makes me feel better believing that maybe in ten years when I have my own family I’ll be the kind of parent I wish I had.

I want to give my kids everything I wasn't given because I know better,” I say.

"You'll be a good parent because you're a good person. That heart I'm trying to win is big with lots of love to give." His eyebrows knit together and he rolls his lips as if he's trying to not say something.

"What are you thinking?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Nothing. Just secretly wishing some of that love will be sent my way one day."

“You're on the right track." I tease him. "You should finish the game and then we can do something I’m actually good at like eating.”

“Okay.” His eyes linger on me another second before turning back to the game and sending the last few balls up the ramp. “You know you can talk to me about your family and your childhood if you want to—if you need to. I’m here for you. Whatever you say will stay between us.”

"Thank you." I slide my hand into his, weaving our fingers together, and start leading us toward the bar and dining area. “Next time.”

“Are you agreeing to go out with me again?”

“I’ve had a lot of fun so far tonight. Unless you fumble the rest, I’d say you have a chance.” I grin.

“There’s still time. I’ll try not to blow it,” he jokes. “I want to take you somewhere else after this if you’re up for it.”

If Nash is involved, I have a feeling I’ll be game for anything.