Down and Dirty (Hot Jocks #5)(31)

We roll to a stop at a red light, and I scan the bars and restaurants around us. “Are we doing tequila shots and karaoke?” I ask, sizing up the karaoke bar on our right. “Because that pretty much sums up my college experience.”

Landon chuckles, speeding past the bar the second the light turns green. “I said it’ll make us feel young, not nauseous. Think a little bit younger.”

I chew on my lower lip, turning the clock back a few more years. “We aren’t going to be babysitting, are we?”

His full-body laugh reverberates through me. “No more guesses. We’re just about there.”

A mile or two later, a giant complex emerges in the distance. I can see the words FAMILY FUN ZONE glowing in blue neon lights.

“Is that where we’re heading?”

“Bingo.”

As we pull into the parking lot, I count one minivan to every three youngsters sprinting across the blacktop, most of them waving fistfuls of tickets or carrying cheaply made stuffed animals.

“Are we legally allowed in a place like this without kids?”

He shakes his head at me before swinging open his car door to hop out. “Don’t worry, I called ahead. Adults like laser tag and arcade games too, you know.”

With my hand in his, we walk through the parking lot and up to the oversize doors with the words THIS WAY TO FUN! printed in big, goofy lettering on the front. One step inside, and we’re immediately met with that familiar arcade smell, a mixture of cheap pizza and socks. It’s as gross as it is weirdly comforting.

Landon was right. I already feel like a kid again.

“Where to first? The Family Fun Zone is our oyster.” He spreads his arms wide across the room of arcade games, and my eyes lock on two Skee-Ball machines near the back.

“Are you down for some Skee-Ball? I was practically a pro when I was twelve.”

He nods, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. “I’m game.”

We find a token kiosk, and Landon feeds it a twenty, filling a plastic cup to the brim with quarter-size gold coins. “This should last us a few rounds.”

“All I need is one round to kick your ass,” I tease, then instantly clap a hand over my mouth when I remember the word family is literally in the name of this place. “I mean, to kick your heinie.”

Landon chuckles as he passes the cup off to me. “I thought I’d escaped the horrors of that word.”

We maneuver through the maze of arcade games to the back, squaring up to a Skee-Ball machine. Two tokens bring it to life, causing the lights to flash and six balls to pour into the chamber.

Landon grabs one, turning it over in his hand. “I’m not used to games with balls. I’m more of a puck guy.”

“Well, what the puck are you waiting for?” I squeeze his side playfully, and he flinches, holding back a smile.

Note to self: My husband is ticklish. That may be useful info to have in the future.

The childlike joy in Landon’s eyes disappears for a moment, replaced by a look of pure concentration as he lines up his first ball and rolls it up the alley. It hits the cage with a clatter and comes flying back at him.

“Shit,” he mumbles under his breath, but I can barely hear it over my laughter. His gaze sweeps from the blank scoreboard over to me. “This is harder than I thought.”

I hold out a hand, wiggling my fingers until he places the ball in my palm. Finding my stance, I focus my eyes on the prize and roll. Boom. Five hundred points.

His eyes narrow, skeptical. “Are you sure you haven’t played since you were twelve?”

I shrug, picking up a second ball and rolling it straight into the center target. “Once a pro, always a pro, I guess.”

With a laugh, he tugs me close to him, pressing a kiss to the top of my head and giving my ass a quick squeeze that’s hardly appropriate for a family-friendly arcade. “Well then, show me how it’s done, pro.”

I shamelessly use the excuse of teaching Landon how to play as an opportunity to hang on to his muscular arms, moving him through the best technique. The games fly by, and before long, our fingertips hit the bottom of the token cup. I let him take the last game, and when he finally sinks a ball into the 200-level target, I cheer like he just scored a game-winning goal. And by the way he’s beaming with pride, you’d think that’s exactly what just happened.

“Care to celebrate with some crappy pizza?” I ask, tilting my head toward the snack bar.

“How about we get out of here and I buy you some good pizza?”

“Deal.” I tear off the lengthy roll of tickets we earned and hand them off to a cute little girl waiting her turn at the racing game before following Landon out the door.

The place he has in mind, it turns out, is a cozy little wood-fired pizza place down the street. The hostess seats us right away, and without even looking at the menu, Landon orders for both of us—one Greek flatbread and one with prosciutto.

“I take it you’ve been here before,” I say, grabbing a slice of bread from the basket between us before nudging it toward him.

He nods, snagging a roll. “A bunch of us took Asher’s niece to play laser tag when his family was in town. We ate here after.”

“I didn’t know you got to meet Asher’s family.”

“Just a few of them. His family is enormous. You should meet his niece Fable. She’s a little spitfire, like a tiny version of you.”