“Have you been paddle boarding since that fateful day?” she asks.
“No. And I won’t be paddle boarding again,” I say, explaining that the Mercenaries GM added it to the list of forbidden activities. “I’m just glad paddle boarding was allowed when I got hit on the head with that guy’s oar.”
She smiles. “Me too.”
I gesture to the sidewalk. “But walking? I’m allowed to walk as much as I want.”
“Walking makes us outliers. No one walks in Los Angeles,” she remarks as we stop at Colorado Avenue.
“Or we’re caught in a time warp,” I suggest helpfully.
She plays along. “Maybe even a parallel universe.”
“Maybe one where you don’t work for my team.” I shoot her a flirty smile and I have no regrets.
“Oh, I definitely don’t work with you in that world,” she says, returning my grin as we cross the street.
In the real world, we run the risk of being a scandal. If word got out somehow that I was administering orgasms to a team executive, I’d look like a playboy. Perception is everything there.
But in this alternate world, we’re just a baller and a lawyer heading down the street, through the throngs of people in Santa Monica, I toss out another question. “But aren’t they walking too, in Los Angeles? Are they in the parallel universe?”
“Hmm. Technically they are walking, but I feel like they’re walking in exploration. We’re walking as a form of commuting and no one does that, so we remain in our parallel universe.”
“You are the queen of technicalities,” I say.
She mimes adjusting a tiara, then gestures to the nearby pier. “And in our parallel lives, we’re going tothe pier. Which is home to one of my favorite activities.”
“Besides reading and losing your mind over my dirty talk?” I ask, and oops. Went there again. Oh well.
She rolls her eyes but nudges my elbow. “Yes, Drew. Besides those two. My third favorite hobby is playing Whac-A-Mole.”
“Who’s dirty talking now, Brooke?”
“Whac-A-Mole is like a sushi hand roll. They can’t not sound naughty.”
“Maybe both are,” I say, then pat my stomach. “And now I want to take you out for sushi.”
“Mmm. Sushi sounds great,” she says. “In our time warp, of course.”
I groan, missing both sushi and our date. “You’re tempting me, woman.”
“Sushi and Whac-A-Mole are your weaknesses too?”
“Yes. Hell yes.” And I can’t resist a little more flirting so in a low, smoky voice, I add, “Among other things.”
She takes a shaky breath and seems to recenter herself, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “What else would we be doing on the pier? Whac-A-Mole and sushi and…?”
Easy answer. “Skee-Ball. That’s one of my favorite things to do. When I went to New York earlier in thesummer to visit my cousin, I schooled him and his friends in Skee-Ball.” I bump my shoulder to hers, maybe because I’m taking what I can get. “I’m fucking awesome at Skee-Ball.”
“I should hope so, with that magic arm of yours,” she says with her trademark sass.
I wiggle my fingers. “I have good hands too.”
She shakes her head, amused. “Why do I feel like you can turn anything into a naughty comment?”
“Because I can. Except I shouldn’t,” I say, resigning myself to our reality. “Especially since I got fooled by naughty comments this afternoon.”
“Please tell Patrick he wins the award for best prankster. His prank was so good, I almost don’t even care that I was so bummed you didn’t text.”