Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
But that was thanks to my mother whispering in my ear for too many years, always worried about what other people thought. Even a thousand miles away, I still couldn’t escape her whispers.
I turned to Rome and tried to hand him his paper bracelet, but he refused to take it. He stuck his hand out and pulled his shirt up his arm, baring his wrist along with his stupidly expensive Breitling watch.
“Put it on me, please,” he requested, and I briefly considered shoving it up his nose.
“Are you going to be like this all night?” I demanded, even as I wrapped it around his wrist, removed the paper backing from the tape, and closed the circle.
Rome’s eyes widened with his grin. “If you’re lucky,” he threatened.
“Jerk,” I muttered, which made Rome snicker.
But all his giggles stopped as we passed through the second door, leading into the giant open room filled with rows of old pinball machines. Everywhere we looked were flashing colored lights as if we’d walked into a carnival. Rock music played on hidden speakers just loud enough that you could enjoy it without feeling the need to shout at your companions to be heard.
“Holy shit!” Rome stepped in front of me and threw out his arms like he wanted to hug the entire complex. “Where have you been my entire life? This is freaking amazing!”
I rolled my eyes and followed him as he walked down the aisles, checking out the various pinball machines. Some were newer, but there were others that were truly vintage as they advertised movies that were well over fifty years old.
“You’re here every day, aren’t you? Don’t lie.” Rome flashed me a giddy look before turning his gaze to the games.
“Actually, this is only the third time I’ve been here. Work keeps me busy, and I forget it exists.”
A low scoffing noise escaped Rome. “That’s crazy.” He stopped at a Star Wars–themed pinball machine. He settled behind the machine and tested the flipper buttons on the side. With a giggle, he drew out the plunger and fired the iconic silver ball down the shooter lane. It bounced off bumpers. Lights flashed and bells rang as the ball zoomed around the board. Rome tapped the buttons again and again, launching the ball to the top, narrowly avoiding the holes. But within a couple of minutes, he mistimed a flipper, and the ball disappeared into the hole at the end of the board.
“Oooooh, that was fast,” I mocked. “Have you not played in a while?”
Rome shot me a dirty look. “I’ll have you know this is the first time I’ve ever played pinball. I’ll get better.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Yeah, yeah. You talk a big game, but can you back it up? You seem pretty happy to watch me work my magic, but can you play?”
I glanced about and chose the Jaws-themed machine on his right and started playing. Four minutes later, I was still on my first ball, and my grin spread across my entire face. Sure, I might have been to this place two other times, but on each visit, I’d spent the better part of three hours playing pinball. It was a fucking blast. The timing of hitting the button just right to send the ball soaring into a bumper, combined with the frantic bells and lights every time your score flew higher, was a rush that I’d not felt since our childhood when we’d played countless hours of video games.
“Okay, whatever. You’ve had more practice than me,” Rome grumbled as he leaned over to check my score. “I’ll catch up.”
“I’d love to see you try,” I taunted as a cackle left me.
We lost ourselves for the next hour to the pinball machines. We played a bit where we were and then migrated to other machines, trying to find that perfect spot like a slot-machine junkie searching for that hot one begging to pay out. Sometimes an entire aisle separated us. Suddenly, I’d look up to find Rome on the machine beside mine. A handful of other players moved around the games, but the small crowd was to be expected on a Wednesday night. My first visit had been on a Friday night, and the building had been insanely crowded.
“Hey,” Rome called. “Let’s grab something to eat. Afterward, I’ll challenge you to Skee-ball.”
“In a sec. My ball is still in play,” I muttered.
My so-called date edged closer. “Come on. I’m hungry.”
“Go order something. You’re an adult.”
“But this is a date,” Rome whined in my ear. “You have to go with me.”
I opened my mouth to argue with him, but I didn’t get the chance. Rome stepped even closer and bumped his hip against mine, throwing off my rhythm so that I mistimed the flipper. The silver ball sort of blooped off the end and fell out of play.