I pretend to think about it for a minute. “Nothing inappropriate if you win, though, right?”
He scoffs. “Kasper, I always keep things classy.”
“If you say so,” I deadpan, but then I shrug. “Fine. I’m in. You’re up,Doctor Rattler.” I motion him toward the lane and lean back against the high bar top that runs above the ball racks.
“Why thank you, m’lady.” Collin does a weird over-exaggerated bow, and I’ve decided that his suaveness is clearly reserved for women who are not me. Because around me he’s a total goofball.
“What did I say about the fake accents, Rattler?”
He laughs. “Quiet, you. I’m focusing.” Collin lines up and steps forward, releasing his ball and sending it toward the pins. All but two crash down. Unfortunately for him, they’re the end pins, meaning he’s now got a minimal chance of knocking them both over with his next roll. He makes a valiant effort but only gets one. He returns to the bar top with an easy shrug. “It’s all yours. You can use the arrows in the middle to line up your shot. And don’t worry. This is supposed to be fun.”
“Fun. Right,” I say breezily, fighting back a smile. I retrieve my ball and exhale as I step toward the lane. I relax my upper body and release my shot. The ball starts on the far right side of the lane but curves toward the center and hits the pins directly, knocking them all over and notching me my first strike of the game.
When I turn to see the gaping expression on Collin’s face, I can’t help the triumphant grin that spreads over mine.
“You bowl?” he says when I join him.
“I told you I was rusty,” I say. “But that’s because I haven’t played since moving up here. Down in Pensacola, I was in a weekly league. I won the league championship a couple years in a row.”
Maybe it was juvenile of me to withhold my bowling experience, but I was secretly excited to show Collin up. In my head, I imagined him throwing a small tantrum at being out-bowled.
Instead of getting upset, though, he smiles so hard I think his face might crack. “Well look at you, champ. That’s incredible. Tell me about this league.”
He proceeds to pepper me with questions as we work our way through the game. I wind up beating him by almost thirty points. He’s good, but I’m better.
What surprises me most is that he’s not a sore loser.
Not for the first time tonight does something about Collin’s behavior shock me.
First a compliment about my work. Then the apology and admission about Romeo’s. Now this—he’s genuinely impressed by my mostly worthless bowling talent.
“I don’t suppose I could convince you to go best out of three?” Collin asks.
“You really want me to beat you again?”
He laughs. “No, and you’re right. You probably would. I just didn’t want the night—” He cuts himself off. “You know what, never mind.”
My breath catches. Was he about to tell me he didn’t want the night to end? I blink the thought away—because doubtful.
He covers the awkward silence with a cheeky smile. “So how are you going to have me pose for this photo?”
I rub my hands together and smirk. “Pretend to throw the ball granny style. I’ll get a shot from behind.”
Collin huffs and assumes his position near the lane. He has his bowling ball held between his legs, and he’s craning his neck to look back at me. I can’t help the giggle that escapes.
“Laugh it up. This is my best angle,” Collin says seriously.
“Keep telling yourself that.” I snap the photo, and another for good measure, when Collin scowls at me.
I hand his phone back to him and show him the finished product.
“Now we need one of the scorecard…to show my dominance.” I gesture to the screen above us. “You should cut off the ‘doctor’ tag before your name, though. You don’t want people to think you’re full of yourself—even if you are,” I add.
“Birthing a baby earns me some street cred. Admit it. You were impressed.”
He’s right. But I’m not about to say that to him. “Take the photo, Rattler.”
“So demanding.” He snaps a picture, and then he looks at me. He’s shifting his weight on his feet, and I can tell I’m not going to like what he has to say next.
