Her head tilts up, brows pinched together. “What? When have I ever been nervous with you?”
She thinks I miss it, the way she peels back a layer of that impetuous exterior of hers to take a breath and slow down. The wide eyed look she seems to give herself, not me, confused and a bit cautious when I reach for her hand or get caught simply gazing at her. It’s fleeting, yes. These aren’t obvious moments with Brooke and she recovers from them quickly, but I see them.
My fingers splay along her hip. “The alley I kissed you in. Your shop practically every time I walk in there, more so the first time though. You seemed a bit flushed, yeah?” I smile at her. “I was too. I felt that kiss the entire day.”
Her lips part, her eyes drop to my mouth. “Yeah,” she says on a rushed exhale.
Not a question. She isn’t asking me if I’m telling the truth, which I sure as fuck am. I’m honestly not sure if I’ve stopped feeling that kiss, or if I will.
She’s agreeing with me. Another layer is exposed, and I want to keep her like this, open and unconcerned with revealing too much, too soon, too fast. I want her letting go and letting me have her secrets, being perfectly unashamed and trusting that I’ll not only like every honest moment she gives me, I’ll protect them for her.
But before I can ask her to elaborate on that single perfect word, Brooke presses her hand against my chest, halting our progression.
“This is it.”
I look up at the building we’ve stopped in front of. The large sign set off in neon colors and strobe lights. The hordes of children scurrying in and out of the door with tickets and carnival prizes.
This is it? This is what she has in mind? I never would’ve guessed anything close to this.
I smile at Brooke, my hand circling around her back. “Are we playing skee-ball, gorgeous? I must warn you, I’m a bit competitive. I’ve never believed in letting a lady win simply because she’s a lady. Nothing honest in that.”
She stands on her toes, getting as close to my face as she can, her small hand sliding over my elbow to my bicep. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret, Mason,” she murmurs, her breath hot and hungry against my jaw.
I smirk, tilting my head down. “Yeah? What’s that?”
“I’m not a lady. Not even close. And I’m about to show you why.” She grabs my hand and eagerly tugs me inside the arcade.
The large space is dark and noisy, awarding sounds from machines mixing with the heavily bassed music pumping through the speakers. Children rush past us, alive with laughter and exuberance. Parents are lined up against the wall engaging each other in conversation while keeping an eye out.
I look around the room. I’m betting aside from the staff, Brooke and I are the only adults in this place who aren’t here to chaperone.
What the hell does she have in mind bringing me here?
She leads me to the back of the room and down a long hallway. A young bloke wearing a name-tag steps through a doorway and moves in our direction, nodding at me before asking Brooke if she needs help with anything.
“Bathrooms,” she more states than asks, alluding to her knowledge of their location. He takes her meaning and keeps moving in the opposite direction we head in.
The room breaks open. I spot the two doors indicating our destination, I veer right. Brooke goes left.
“This way.” She curls a finger, beckoning me to follow.
I glance at the signs on the doors. Frowning, I make my way to her. “No toilets? I’m a bit lost here, Brooke. What are we doing?”
She smiles at me over her shoulder, waving her hand floppily in the air. “Bathrooms are a bit played-out, don’t you think? Or toilets. Whatever you want to call them. Everyone fools around in bathrooms. I’m sure you have.”
“No,” I admit, a bit shocked at her suggestion. “Public facilities that probably aren’t cleaned often enough? Am I missing the appeal?”