Chapter 12
BEN
“Good morning, sunshine!” I plaster on a wide smile as I drop Reese back down to the ground and watch her whip around, a mixture of surprise and irritation on her face.
“What are you doing here?”
I gesture down to my worn jeans and a crappy gray shirt. “Giving you a chance to get even with me for laughing at you.”
Those caramel eyes flash, as if afraid that I’ll elaborate. I step back a bit as she marches toward me, wondering if I should stop grinning like an idiot and protect myself against an imminent throat punch. “I mean, how did you know I’d be here?”
I jut my chin in Mason’s direction. “After you bailed on me over text last night—really lame, by the way—I called Mason to kick your ass. He was over at your friend’s place and told me what was going on. So . . .” I shrug and then offer her a smug smile. “Here I am. I figure we can head back to the office together after.” Not waiting for her response—because I’ll throw her over my shoulder and carry her stubborn little body to my car if I have to—I call out to Mason, “Is this the one you were givin’ it to last night? If so,” I nod once, “nicely done.”
Mason’s face bursts with color as he tries to keep the small, proud smile from stretching out across his lips. Good for him. The guy needs to get laid on a regular basis. And the girl—I recognize her as the non-Korean Korean friend of Reese’s—is girl-next-door cute. “Hey! Long time no see!”
“You actually remember me?” The girl’s tone is flat and thick with doubt.
“I don’t forget a pretty face, darlin’.”
“Cheesy” Reese mutters, skewering me with a strange look. “That’s Lina and this is Nicki, since I’m sure you don’t remember the names that go along with those unforgettable faces.”
I open my mouth but falter as it clicks. So . . . that’s what jealousy looks like on Reese. “Didn’t you give me fake names?”
Reese’s face twists up as the girl to her right, the one who looks like she could give me a good run for my money in an arm wrestle, bursts out in laughter. “That’s right. We were Charlie’s Angels that night.”
Reese, on the other hand, isn’t smiling. “Traitors. The lot of you!” She yanks her mask on, spins around, and marches toward the field entrance like she’s on a mission.
And I watch her cute camouflaged ass the entire time, knowing that at least one of those paint bullets has my name on it.
“I haven’t done this since I was, like, fifteen,” I say as the five of us pick our path through the wooded terrain, my eyes peeled for our opponents. There are several teams playing at once today and we—the purple team, as picked by Reese—are hunting anyone with a thick red band on their arm.
How fitting.
We’ve shot four already, with no casualties on our side as of yet. “This place is great,” Nicki purrs in a soft voice. “They could do a whole Hunger Games theme.”
She’s right, they could. It’s like an arena out here—the forest is thick enough, and the ground cover high enough, to create the perfect hunting ground. They even have small outpost buildings scattered throughout. I wish I had known about this place sooner. I’ll have to bring Nate and the guys here for a game. Maybe even Kacey.
“Too bad you’re not allowed to climb the trees,” I murmur with a head shake as I watch Reese wrap her arms around a tree branch and start pulling herself up. Handing my gun to Mason, I hook an arm around her small waist and yank her down just as she’s about to throw her leg over it. “I have a feeling you’re worse with following rules than I am.”
She answers by spinning around to train that gun of hers on my chest. “I’m also not against shooting my own team members.”
I chuckle, pushing it away. I know she’s telling the truth. “You want to get kicked out of the game? Because there are refs everywhere here.” The playing field is so big, they ride around on ATVs.
“I was merely trying to get a better—”
Her words are cut off by the clicking sound of a semiautomatic gun and bursts of paint splatters nearby.
“Take cover!” Mason’s girlfriend, Lina, shouts, oddly enough sounding like a soldier as she bolts, running for the small shack about twenty feet away. We’re all tight on her heels, diving into it as the assault continues. Mason’s howl just as he rounds the corner to protection tells us we have our first casualty. Lina spins him around to confirm the big blue splatter on the back of his tidy plaid shirt. “Yup, you’re dead.”
“That hurt,” he complains.
I hear a fake cough muffling a “Sissy” coming from Reese as she peeks out the small window, followed by a soft punch in the shoulder from her friend Nicki.
“What do I do now?” Mason asks, ignoring his stepsister.
Someone outside answers for us. “Guy in the plaid shirt! We know you’re hit! Don’t be a cheater and try to wipe off the paint!” he yells.
“I’m not cheating!” Mason exclaims with indignation. “I don’t cheat!”
“Yeah, whatever,” comes the lazy reply. “Come out where we can see you with your hands up!”
“There’s some real wackos around here,” Nicki mutters, sticking the nose of her gun through the hole to shoot a few rounds out.
“I guess I’ll wait for you guys at the front,” Mason mutters, stripping off his purple band and heading out, his head hung a little. I actually think he was having fun. Plus, being the first one shot down in a group of girls probably hit his ego a little.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of the ladies for you,” I announce, stretching my arms out to reach around all three women as we watch Mason trudge down the path through the tiny window, toward the group, his purple band held out in surrender.
And that’s when all of them let loose, paint pelting the skinny guy as he lifts his arms, trying to protect his chest from the sting of being that close.
“Those motherfuckers!” Lina screeches, elbowing me out of the way as she tears out of the hut with Nicki trailing her, guns out and firing ahead of them in a manic “banzai!” charge, yelling at the stop of their lungs while Reese and I watch from the safety of our hut.
When it’s all done about twenty seconds later, all four male opponents and both Nicki and Lina are out of the game.
And Mason is covered in paint from head to toe.
“Poor fucker,” I chuckle. “I guess she must really like him.”
“No, that’s Lina. It’s inevitable that she goes kamikaze at some point. I’m surprised she lasted this long.”
“Go win for us!” Nicki shouts with a wave. “We’ll wait for you at the gate.”
Reese sighs, shoving my arm off her shoulder. “Well, this isn’t going to be a long game.”
“We could always hide out in here for a while. Regroup. ” I smile, taking in her cute little camouflage outfit. The pants are tight around her ass, making it look all the more round and appealing.
Her mask shifts as she shakes her head. “Even though I can’t see your face, I know you’re checking me out.”
I burst out in laughter and she responds by shoving me. “Shhh! We’re hunting!” She leans forward to peer out the window, muttering more to herself, “You’re too loud!”
“Fine. You go and hunt. I’ll just be back here, admiring the goods.” I pull my mask off and lift the hem of my shirt to wipe the sweat off my face.
“Not allowed to take your mask off while out here. I thought you were all about the rules,” Reese mocks, pulling her own mask up to show her flushed cheeks, covered in a sheen of sweat, her hair in a damp, messy ponytail. Her eyes skate over my uncovered stomach for a second before landing on my face again, a strange expression touching her mouth.
I can’t help myself. “Thinking about yesterday, aren’t you?”
She rolls her eyes, but I don’t miss the tiny smile that curls her lips. “No. Are you?”
“I haven’t stopped.” I’m not embarrassed to admit it. Fooling around with Reese was fun. Especially in front of that jackass she was stupid enough to marry. What is it with chicks going for the dark, moody, tattooed types? Because I can tell that’s what he’s like, just by the look of him. And even with the Stepford wife leeched onto his side, I caught the sharp glare he was shooting my way. I’m not surprised. I don’t see how anyone can’t miss kissing a girl like Reese, especially with the dime-a-dozen girl he hitched himself to.
Reese, well . . . she’s all angry and fire-breathing bitchy until her lips find you, and then you’re sure she must have a cocaine-laced tongue because you can’t get enough of her sweet mouth.
I watch her face as she seems to ponder that for a moment, her chest rising and falling faster than it did only moments ago. I wouldn’t be opposed to getting into Reese’s pants right here, right now. “Fuck,” I mutter, shifting on my feet.
“What?”
I sigh. “Nothing. I just hate wearing cups.”
I feel the tip of her gun jab me in the groin, tapping against it. “Why’d you wear this? You afraid someone’s going to go after your prized body part?”
I’m about to tell her that I’d like her to go after my prized body part but without the weapon, when a female giggle sounds outside. Quickly pulling our masks on, I hunch down to squeeze in next to her and look out the small window.
And struggle to stifle my laugh as we watch a couple climb the hill opposite us, the female in a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a shirt that’s tied to the side. “Daisy Duke is playing paintball? What a fucking moron. Why didn’t he make her wear more clothes? That’s gonna hurt when she gets hit. ” The guy is turning this way and that, scouting the area for people.
“Yes, it is,” Reese agrees, and I hear the wicked pleasure in her voice as they disappear into a hut. “Come on.” Without waiting, she’s darting out and around the corner, her gun aimed and ready.
“They’re yellow!” I hiss, trying not to be too loud in case there are any reds nearby. She doesn’t hear me, though. Or she doesn’t want to. She keeps moving forward like a little ninja, silently leaping over bushes and avoiding branches that will crack. Picking up speed but not nearly as gracefully, I reach her seconds after she stops at the side of the hut. She holds a single finger up to her mask, to warn me.
I don’t think there’s any worry, though. From the sounds of it, they’re preoccupied.
Doing exactly what I was thinking of doing only five minutes ago with Reese.
And by the way Reese is creeping around the corner, she’s about to prove why I was smart to be worried.
Damn, I love this chick.
Leveling my own gun, I step in beside her as the soft, rhythmic thump against the wall inside picks up. It’s obvious the guy is drilling Daisy Duke, and it’s making my own discomfort all the worse. I can’t help it. It’s normal for a guy to get off hearing that kind of shit.
Reese seems to stall for a moment. I’d do anything to see the expression on her face right now, to know what’s going through her head. She snaps out of it, though, and raises a hand to silently count down from five on her fingers.
And then we both leap into the doorway.
They were smart enough to keep their masks on at least.
The chick’s shorts are on the ground, her bare legs wrapped around the guy’s hips while he’s plowing into her, his pants hanging below his ass. All in all, a lot of vulnerable flesh on display.