I grab my darts from the table, and take a big gulp of my Coke, wiping my mouth across my sleeve like I would if I were drinking the hard stuff. It makes her laugh, so I got what I wanted.
“All right…let me show you how this is done,” I say, holding her gaze long enough for her to blink and look away. I’m smiling while I line up my shot, and I move my arm back just enough to give the dart some sticking power, and then release.
Two.
Avery is laughing so hard she has to actually cover her mouth. It’s one of those laugh-so-hard-no-noise-comes-out kind of laughs. Honestly, I love seeing her face like this. I don’t think I’ve seen her smile like this once since I’ve been back, and it’s almost worth losing…almost.
As pretty as her lips are when they’re smiling, I can’t imagine how they look inches away from my own…begging. Begging. Like I could ever get Avery to beg me for anything. But just the thought…
I have to shake my head to focus; I’m getting so worked up. Avery’s too busy fussing with the feathers on her darts to notice, which is good, because I’m pretty sure what I’m thinking about right now—the way I’m reacting to her—she would notice!
After a few deep breaths, I refocus, and line my second shot up. This one’s better—seventeen. One more big number, and I’ll be in the lead. I’ve got Avery’s attention now, too—and this time, there is no laughter. Instead, her bottom lip is completely tucked under her top teeth, and her knee is bouncing like a damned jackrabbit.
“You look nervous there. Might want to pull out your lip balm…you know, moisten those babies up. Just sayin’,” I tease, and she blushes instantly. She stands and turns her back to me, pretending to straighten her shirt and move the stool she was sitting on, but I know she’s really just trying to hide her face. I’m getting to her—and I’ve never wanted to win a round of darts more in my life.
Fourteen.
“That’s on the line,” she says immediately. She’s protesting—it’s funny.
“Let’s inspect it. Don’t you dare touch it until I get there,” I say, walking up behind her. It’s clearly a fourteen—the dart isn’t even touching any of the line. I see it, and Avery sees it. She sees it so well, she’s no longer breathing, but just standing there, staring at it, her eyes wide and her hands rolling her own darts in her fingertips.
“Well?” I say, knowing I’m right, but wanting to snap her out of this damn trance she’s in.
“Fine. Fourteen,” she says, turning around with a huff.
Okay, she actually seems legitimately pissed at me now. She throws three more low numbers, and the look on her face is so stressed, it’s actually painful to watch. We go on for five more rounds, and honestly only because I have to hit a five to close it out.
When I hit it, I almost want to lie, and say it’s on the line, just to give her a chance. I’ve gone from being willing to cheat—to win the chance to kiss Avery—to wanting to throw the damn match myself. It’s not that my feelings are hurt by her reaction to kissing me…well, maybe they’re hurt a little. But it’s more than that. I feel like I’m taking advantage of her or something, like I’m forcing her to do something she finds disgusting. I know that’s not the truth, but it just doesn’t feel right. There’s no delaying it, though, and the regret that spills through my veins when she turns to look at me—her face so f**king disappointed—just about kills me.
I didn’t even really get to talk to her, which is what I really wanted in the first place.
“Well, you won. Let’s get this over with,” she says, finishing the last drink from her glass, and slamming it hard on the table before wiping her lips dry with the back of her hand. She’s standing there, her arms limp at her sides, and her eyes closed, like she’s playing a boring game of hide-and-seek. This…this…is nothing like I pictured it.
I walk closer to her, and I hold my breath so she can’t sense how close I am. I’m about to call the whole thing off, give her an out, when her bottom lip comes loose, letting out the tiniest of breaths, and I see her shiver. I take note of her hands, which are no longer limp, but balled into tight fists.
I just need to know—just some sign that my hunch is right. I move even closer, and I can see her muscles tighten at my nearness. There are inches between our feet, and one sway of my body, or hers, and we’d be touching. I stare long and hard at her neck—that long, milky neck. Her hair falls over both shoulders. It’s long and wavy from the hair tie she was wearing earlier tonight. I reach up gently, and sweep the waves falling over her left shoulder behind her ear, and Avery’s eyes close even harder.