I Promise You: Stand-Alone College Sports Romance(53)

Dillon rolls his neck and looks at me. “Hang with me.”

“Okay.” I breathe out, easing closer. I’ll be on him like a fly on a pie.

“Safeties off. All rounds are live!” Dillon calls as they tense, guns up.

I heave mine up, trying to mimic them.

My heart jumps in my chest. Five, four, three, two, one…

HOOOOOONK! An airhorn explodes around us, drowning out the crickets and frogs in the woods. The players split apart, darting down paths, obviously with a plan in their head.

Dillon, Sawyer, and I run down a trail between trees to a small barricade surrounded by bushes.

“Now what?” I whisper as I look around. I don’t see any other players on either team.

“Wait—” Dillon starts.

A paintball smashes into the tree next to me, making me scream as it splatters glow-in-the-dark red paint. Three more hit the tree in rapid succession.

I shut my eyes, duck down, squeeze the trigger, and fire a single shot—directly into Bullseye’s back.

He jumps up and turns around to try to see the green splotch on his vest.

“Seriously?” he says as he whips off his goggles.

“I am so sorry.” I try to wipe the green paint away.

“You weren’t supposed to kill me!” he wails.

I wince. “I got nervous.”

Dillon grimaces. “Oops. Rest in peace, Bullseye.” He flashes a mock salute.

“Can I be out and not him?” I whisper.

“Don’t cry for me, Serena,” Sawyer says as he hands me his goggles. “War is hell. Stay alive. It’s up to you now. And I’ve got beer waiting for me back at the clearing.” Louder, he yells, “I’m out!” Then he places his gun in the air with his green glow stick hanging from it as he walks out of the barricade.

More paint explodes on the tin roof on top of us.

“They have someone in the trees. We need to get better cover. Follow me,” Dillon says. “Be quiet.”

In the dark? Yeah, I’ll get right on that.

I don’t have time to put the goggles on, so I tuck them in the pocket of my vest.

He takes off running through the woods, and for half a second, I think of standing and making myself an easy shot to get out of this mess, but I crouch and take off after him. Not a quitter!

We run through the trees, leaving the fairy lights behind, then slow down and circle back next to a large wooden crate. I make every step he does, trying to not crunch on leaves.

Dillon puts a finger to his lips to signify being quiet—I am!—then points at me and then at our fort with the flag. I shake my head. What? Are we guarding it?

I interpret that we’re going there next and he wants me to go first.

While I try to figure out the best rudimentary sign language to use to argue with him, he holds up three fingers and starts counting down to one.

Crap! On three, I take off running, paint exploding around me with every step. I hear a voice up in the trees yell out, “Dammit!” and the barrage stops.

I turn and see Zane climbing down the tree with Dillon under it. “Red out!” Zane grumbles to whoever is listening, gives Dillon a fist bump, and sprints through the woods.

My mouth gapes as I walk back to Dillon. “I was a decoy?”

“A great one. Once he started firing at you, I got a clean shot.”

“I was bait! I could have been shot!”

He chuckles.

“Now what?”

“If they had someone sprint all the way here, they’re probably swarming our fort at the basecamp. They did the same thing last year.” Sweat drips down his face as we take cover behind a tree and he gazes around. “This way.”

He weaves through the trees for what feels like forever as he meanders, making his way to another dugout area near the edge of the tree line. How many hidey-holes are in these woods?

“In here,” he calls as he ducks into the little structure.

“I don’t think anyone’s following us,” I reply, my lungs tight from running. My walking and yoga haven’t prepared me for this kind of cardio.

“They think their sniper can protect this flank, but we rushed him out of the gate. So while most of our group is on the east side, we’ll come up the west and grab the flag. Problem is, we also can’t protect our flag, so we can’t stay here long. Make sense?”

I take off my helmet to breathe better. “How long does this go on?”

“Couple hours. There’s a flurry of action at the beginning for spots, then both sides dig in for a bit and figure out where everyone is before moving into an attack formation.”

“Like dating,” I muse.

“Yeah.” He smiles. “Ready to move?”

I nod and slide the goggles over my mask. The entire world turns green and I can see detail! Each point of light becomes a star.

“Whoa, these things are great,” I say. “I can see everything.”

“Maybe you won’t shoot our side now.”

“Smartass,” I mutter.

We leave and start toward a path, heading to the other side of the woods. Dillon motions for me to get behind some bushes then slides in next to me and whispers, “Can you see anyone watching their flag?”

“Yes. Two big red things in the trees behind the really bright red thing.”