“Ooo, watch out for the—” someone says.
Devin’s elbow brushes mine and I’m a split-second too late. My ball disappears into the drain.
Perry cheers and the crowd groans. My heart sinks until a mechanical plink steals my attention—I have a free ball! It deploys from the top of the machine. I focus on it as it barrels down, and send it flying back up. It pings against several bumpers in succession before landing against a target. The final door lights up, shortly followed by the doorknob with a question mark—this is it. This is my chance. The ball rolls toward the secondary left flipper. I hit the button, and the ball flies to the correct target. The machine rings out and the lights flash.
“Lost in the Zone!” Someone whoops from the crowd.
Six balls quickly release. I have thirty seconds to hit as many targets as I can and rack up points. I hammer the buttons. Targets light up one after another. When a ball drains, another releases. Finally, the flippers go dead, allowing all the balls to drain.
My score flashes: 2,051,619,580. It’s higher than Perry’s.
“I won!” I shout.
The group of five or so people behind me cheers and claps.
Devin picks me up and twirls me around in the air. “Team Devin wins!” he shouts.
Sheer mirth fills me, and I’m still laughing when he sets me on my feet. Our gazes connect, and his eyes blaze with triumph.
On an impulse, I throw my arms around his neck and mash my mouth against his. He returns this kiss with enthusiasm, and a smattering of laughter floats from the dispersing crowd. I don’t care if we have an audience or that we’re kissing in the middle of a pinball arcade. His teeth scrape against my bottom lip. I suck in a surprised breath, and his palm descends, pressing against the dip in my lower back.
A throat clears behind us, and I pull away, breathing hard. Running my fingers through my hair, I turn and find myself face to face with Perry.
His rueful smile can’t hide his disappointment. “Team Devin wins… as usual,” he says so quietly I nearly miss it. A band twists around my heart. Tipping his beer to his lips, he drains it in several long gulps. “Well, I’m true to my word. I’ll be going now. That was one hell of a game, Cass. Rematch sometime?”
“Sure.”
Pushing away from the pinball machine, he takes two steps and stumbles. Devin catches him by the shoulder, eyebrows furrowing. “You okay?” he asks.
Perry waves him off. “Pshh. Fine.” His green eyes are glassy and unfocused and there’s a raspiness to his voice that wasn’t there before.
“I don’t think Perry’s fine. He drank most of the pitcher on top of those shots,” I whisper to Devin.
“I think you’re right. Damn it, Perry. Sit down.” Devin steers Perry into an empty seat at the bar over his protestations. “Drink some water. Don’t argue.”
“Aren’t you the bossy one,” Perry mumbles, but slurps the water Sam the bartender pushes toward him.
Taking me gently by the elbow, Devin leads me a few paces away. “I’m sorry. Perry’s not usually a big drinker. I should probably make sure he gets home okay…”
“Of course, don’t worry about it.”
“Want me to give you a ride? I haven’t had anything to drink for a couple hours. I can get my car and—”
Perry slumps over the bar and only avoids tipping out of his chair thanks to Sam, who practically dives across the bar to steady him. Devin winces.
“Why don’t we split an Uber?” I say, grabbing my bag from the floor next to the pinball machine.
“Good idea.”
“No, it’s a great idea. Allow me. It’s the least I can do,” Perry calls. After a few seconds of fruitless fumbling for his phone, Devin strides over and plucks it out of his pocket. He holds it up to Perry’s face to unlock it, then taps the screen several times.
“The closest Uber’s three minutes away. Let’s go.” We scoop Perry up from the bar and haul him toward the door. He’s about as steady as a Weeble Wobble, so I loop his arm around my shoulders while Devin flanks his other side. Outside the bar, bass-heavy music echoes in the distance, bouncing off the historic brick buildings.
Perry sways between us. “Sorry I got schnockered.”
“It happens,” I say.
“It didn’t have to happen tonight though,” Devin mutters under his breath.
Perry swings his head to look at Devin, then at me. “You know what? I think you’re okay, Cass. I’m officially 92 percent sure you’re not a stalker.”