This place is fantastic.
“Do you want to try out anything?” he asks.
“Do leopards have freaking spots?” I deadpan.
“I take it that’s a yes.”
“It’s actually a hell yes.” My excitement must be contagious because now Cain laughs, and his smile is wide and genuine. Even his eyes look different.
He looks younger now. More at peace. And the idea of seeing him like this for a little bit longer has me feeling like a kid who just entered an arcade, ready to play all the games.
“Let’s go.”
I move forward, but when he doesn’t follow right away, I grab his hand. His hand is still beneath mine at first, and I lift my chin to look at him. He’s staring at our entwined fingers.
“Come on. Let’s go.” This time when I speak, his hand loosens.
“Lead the way,” he commands, so I do.
I lead him straight to the bowling alley. Cain sets to work turning everything on. I grab a ball when it comes up the tunnel. “Why is this open already? I’m surprised.”
“For the team working here.”
“You have this whole building open so that the construction team can let off steam?”
“I do.”
He is so nonchalant when he says it, as if he doesn’t realize what a big deal this is. How not everyone would care about their workers.
How this proves he’s not like the rumors.
Or maybe I’m grasping, but I don’t think I am.
Once Cain does whatever he needs to do to get the board turned on and the pins down, I move toward where the balls are. I lift one, then another, trying to find the perfect weight for me.
Cain walks over like he doesn’t have a care in the world. I wonder how accurate this portrayal is. I realize as I watch him that I could spend endless hours a day observing him.
It’s for the article.
I’m so full of crap.
Sure, I want to believe that. I’m totally analyzing his every move, his every smile, his every laugh for an article.
Who am I trying to fool?
Not me.
None of that is true. I’m curious about the man for who he is, not for what he’s built. He steps up to where I’m standing. “Do you need help finding a ball?”
“No. I found one.”
“Good. You start.”
With my ball in my hand, I walk to the line on the floor. The pins are down and ready for me to throw.
I haven’t played in years, but growing up, my parents were in a league. Surprisingly, they took me with them.
I used to love to bowl, and I’m actually pretty decent at it. Or I was good at one point. I’m about to see if it’s like riding a bike.
I don’t tell him that I used to bowl before I’m pulling back my arm and letting my ball wisp through the air.
It rolls on the lane, then it smashes dead center in the middle of the pins.
The sound is jarring amongst the silence. Still standing at the line, I wait as they start to topple. One pin, two, and then almost all of them fall. When they are done moving, there is only one still standing in each of the corners. A 7-10 split. Shit, guess I am a little rusty.
I stretch my arms as I wait for my ball to come back to me.
When the sound starts to rumble through the tunnel and it resurfaces, I grab it, walk back to my starting location, pull back, aim, and let go.
This time, I kick it just right, knocking both remaining pins down.
“Nice.”
“Beginner’s luck.” I shrug.
“Something tells me that statement isn’t accurate at all.”
I smile at his retort, lift my hand, and signal for him to go. Stepping out of the way, I take a seat on the white leather bench.
I watch as he grabs a ball, walks up, and throws. I’m not at all surprised that he’s amazing at this, as well.
Strike.
“Are you amazing at everything you do?” I ask before I can stop myself.
“I don’t know. What do you think?” He smirks.
Butterflies swarm in my belly. “I think you might be. I think you are definitely good at this, and that’s why you have a bowling alley here.”
“Our secret.” He winks at me.
I melt.
Die.
I’m a puddle on the floor.
Trying to rein in my crazy emotions, I push them down, but I can’t help but flirt with him some more the way his eyes are sparkling at me. “Hmm, I don’t know. This could make an interesting turn to my story. The headline would read ‘Amazing Architect, Brilliant Bowler.’”
“What do you want for your silence?” I hear the tease in his voice.
It makes me give him a smile, but mine is sly. “You can’t afford it.” I wink back at him, then shimmy off with a wiggle.
This time, I pay extra close attention and throw a strike, then jump up and down, cheering for myself.