Sometimes a change of scenery helped whatever ailed you.
“I suddenly had the urge to play pinball,” he said, his cheeks dotting pink.
“Bored, then?” I asked, and he chuckled, which made me feel a bit more at ease.
Gemma strolled up then, and I was a bit disappointed I didn’t have more time to find out the real motivation for his visit. “Couldn’t resist our fountain soda?”
It was the exact right thing to say—Gemma did have her moments—because he rewarded us with a full grin. “Fountain soda naturally goes with pinball, right?”
“Or air hockey?” she asked, glancing longingly over her shoulder. She always wanted to play, maybe because it kept her busy, and I got it. Our family life revolved around the bowling alley, and when she wasn’t seeing friends or involved in school activities, she was working, same as me. “I’ll play you.”
Maclain looked at me as if for permission, likely questioning if she was on the clock or had other duties to perform. I glanced over at Mom behind the snack counter, and she winked at me in a knowing way, which made me feel a bit strange. But she couldn’t possibly know how jittery I was feeling since Maclain had stepped foot inside our place of business. It didn’t help that he was wearing a pair of dark-wash jeans I’d admired on him before, with a button-down shirt rolled at the forearms. Definitely something he didn’t wear on the regular, and probably only because he’d met his dad for dinner. It was sweet, actually, that he would dress for the occasion.
“I have to help out a group in lane two, but Gemma can get you set up with quarters for all the machines—and of course, some company.” I threw him an eye-roll. “Unless you’d rather be—”
“Sounds good,” he said. So he did want the company, or he was just being polite, which Maclain seemed to do more around my family, I’d noticed. And okay, even the coaches. Maybe adults he respected? He was only a dick to the rest of us, then. Got it.
I shook my head as I strode toward the family who’d asked for help and showed the mom how to punch their names in the automated system.
Why did it make me feel lighter on my feet that he’d chosen to come here for the company?
Stop thinking too hard about it. Maybe everyone else had been busy. Besides, he seemed to enjoy himself last time, so why not? We did have plenty to do around here.
Once I made sure Mom was all set behind the snack counter and that Dad didn’t need me in the office, where he was eyeballs-deep in a spreadsheet, I walked over to watch Gemma and Maclain play air hockey.
“No fair. The game is rigged in your favor,” he mock-complained when she beat him again. Gemma cracked up. She was definitely enjoying herself.
“How about I let you beat me at foosball, and then we play winner takes all at pinball?”
That lit a fire in his eyes. “You won’t have to let me win. This time I’m ready for you.”
I chuckled as he followed me to the foosball table, and after I beat him twice, I let him slide the third time.
“I saw that. You let him win,” Gemma whispered.
“Shush. Go see if Mom needs help.” Besides, I was pretty sure Maclain knew as well, but he didn’t call me on it. He seemed…more settled than when he’d first walked in.
We played side by side at the pinball machines, and every time our elbows accidentally brushed, my stomach felt all mushy. Christ, this crush was getting worse. And after that jerk-off session, it was all I could think about anymore.
“So you had dinner with your dad?” I asked without making eye contact.
“How did you—”
“I overheard you telling Hollister.” I sneaked a glance. “Besides, you’re dressed nicer.”
“Um, thanks?” He pulled on his collar as if it were somehow restricting. “It’s only the shirt.”
“It looks good on you.”
I saw the blush forming as he pushed the launch button, then placed his fingers on the flippers to keep his ball in play.
There was that small hint of humility again, which only made him more attractive.
“Okay, you’re way better at pinball than me,” I admitted when he outscored me yet again.
“Finally schooled your ass in something.” He fist-pumped the air, and my gaze got caught again on the genuine smile.
I motioned over my shoulder to the snack counter. “Let’s get something to drink.”
“So nice to see you, Mason,” Mom said as we approached, and he seemed momentarily stunned, either that she used his first name or that she remembered it at all.
“Two sodas coming right up,” Gemma said with a grin, always happy to have something to do.
“Nickie, you and your friend have a seat right here and let me feed you,” Mom said in a voice that I knew left little room for discussion. I felt momentarily guilty as we slid onto a couple of stools, but also thankful that we had a lighter crowd tonight. “I have pretzels I just salted.”
“I can always eat,” Maclain replied sheepishly, and there was that charm again. He certainly had it in him, even if he didn’t realize it.
“That’s the spirit.” I chuckled. “Fill up on Mexican, then junk food.”
“To my credit, I didn’t eat much,” he replied as Gemma placed a drink in front of him. “Dad brought his new girlfriend, so it was a bit…distracting.”
A rare disclosure, which might’ve explained why he’d seemed so out of sorts when he arrived.
Mom served us, and we dug right in, and since I’d only eaten a sandwich earlier, my stomach was thankful.
A new group of bowlers headed straight to the rental counter for shoes, and Mom sent Gemma over, encouraging me to finish eating. I wasn’t sure why she was being so insistent that I hang out, but I obviously wasn’t going to object.
“Where is your family from?” Mom asked Maclain, and I stiffened briefly, hoping he felt comfortable enough to reveal more about his family. But Mom had a way about her that worked on even the shyest people.
“I grew up in Louisville,” he replied after a sip of soda. “With my mom and my…stepfather.”
“Stepfather?” I asked without forethought. That was a twist I hadn’t seen coming.
“Yeah…” He looked down at his food. “I’ve always called him Dad because he’s the only one I’ve ever known.”
“That makes sense,” I replied, chewing thoughtfully.
“Your parents are divorced?” Mom asked as she wiped the counter clean. I tried to throw her a warning look, but it probably wouldn’t have worked. She had a mind of her own.
“No.” His voice sounded a bit rough. “Mom died when I was ten, and my stepfather, well, he promised to raise me.”
“I’m sorry.” Mom patted his hand in sympathy and clutched her cross necklace like she did sometimes when she felt sad or stressed. “That must’ve been very hard on you. She’s in heaven with God now, and he’s watching over her.”
“Yeah, uh…sure, thanks,” he mumbled into his drink, and I felt lost on how to offer support or a reprieve. I had no idea if Maclain had a religious affiliation or a philosophy on the afterlife, and I wasn’t about to start asking now. He seemed uncomfortable enough.