My eyes narrow. “Then spill, Nole.”
“They’re at the bowling alley.”
I hold back a smile, already turning away and taking long strides down the hallway. “Thanks!” I call out behind me.
I hear Preston chuckle, the door closing with a click.
???
My tires crunch against the pavement of the bowling alley parking lot. I barely give myself enough time to put my car in park before jumping out and hurriedly rushing inside.
I know it’s a Friday night and all but I really didn’t think this many people went bowling. I was lucky enough to find a parking spot that wasn’t down the street. I push through the front doors before the scent of ketchup and stale fries floods my nose.
My eyes scan through the crowd. Couples. Families. Bowling leagues.
Lucas’s familiar head of hair sticks out from the rest of the people he’s with. He’s sitting down near a lane with a group of guys who are wearing green bowling shirts. Sprawled on the back is their team name. Alley Gators.
Lucas isn’t wearing a matching shirt but I also don’t see any sign of this date I’ve been told about. I watch him cheering and laughing with the older men and smile. Of course he fits right in with just about anyone.
My feet begin to guide me over there but I’m stopped by some teenager behind the counter, Misha on her name tag. She points a finger at the wall of bowling shoes behind her.
“You can’t play if you don’t rent shoes.” Uneven streaks of purple are scattered through her hair. Her phone is resting on the counter that she’s leaning on. Clearly this isn’t the first person she’s had to tell this to tonight.
“I’m not playing.”
She rolls her eyes and I try really hard to remember to give her grace. I was a teenager once. A snarky one at that. Even I still have some attitude problems so I can’t blame this girl for doing her job. But it is making my goal here a lot harder because I have no cash on me.
I’m just realizing I don’t even have my wallet. Just my car keys and an apology on my tongue.
“Doesn’t matter,” she says. “Anyone on the lanes needs to be wearing bowling shoes.”
I lean my elbows on the counter, finger impatiently tapping against the wood. “Oh, come on. I just need to talk to someone. It’ll be two seconds.”
“No.” She doesn’t even bother to think about it.
Deep breath in. Deep breath out.
“I know you’re just doing your job but this is really important—”
“Lady, I don’t care. You either rent shoes or you don’t go over there. Not that hard to understand.”
I will not lash out at a kid just doing her job.
I repeat the mantra in my head a few times, taking deep breaths and telling myself it’s not the end of the world. I’ll just sithere and wait. Or I’ll just call Lucas…with a phone that I left back at Mom and Brian’s.
Oh, fuck it.
I cup my hands around my mouth and shout across the alley. Loud and unapologetic. “Lucas!”
His head almost immediately snaps in my direction, eyes scanning the building before landing on me. My breath hitches in my throat and my heart begins to race.
What if he ignores me? What if I am too late and he wants nothing to do with me? I wouldn’t blame him but it’ll still sting and I’ll have to go home and cry over a tub of ice cream with Amiyah.
But thankfully that doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen yet because Lucas says something to one of the guys with salt and pepper hair. Then he’s making his way over to me. I’ve experienced firsthand that anger really isn’t Lucas’s instinct emotion but him not being able to help but smile when he spots me makes this seemingly worse.
Why on earth does this man have to be basically perfect?
I just think it’d only be fair if he had at least one single quality about him that didn’t make me want to just grab his face, kiss him, and apologize for every single mean thing I’ve said to him.