Mine to Steal (Mine to Love) (22 page)

I like the seclusion of the trails where I can think without distraction. It’s the one thing I look forward to everyday, and the one time when my thoughts clear. Despite the increase in heart rate, I’m able to relax and enjoy the quiet. There’s no telling how many work issues I’ve managed to solve while running.

If only I could get out of these next two ‘dates’ Kayla has me going on.

My thoughts keep returning to Friday night’s conversation with Faith and her ideas for Cave. I know we have a strong submission for Cavette, but knowing she has ideas she’s passionate about intrigues me.
She must be really proud of it if she’s willing to sleep with the proverbial enemy.
The problem that arises is if I like them, because she
is
still the competition. How can I present them as T.M. ideas if they are Faith’s? I’ll have to wait and see if we can meet on Monday and figure it out from there, if I like them.

* * *

Kayla says casual, and she knows well what my version of casual is: khaki shorts, a white t-shirt and Nikes. She told me she would text me the address thirty minutes before I needed to be there. A date at eleven on a Sunday morning doesn’t sound like a good one, yet here I am, in a parking lot for some place called
Fire it Up.

It
feels like I’m driving into the forest, but as I enter, there are cars parked all over the place, in no particular order. It looks as if people have created their own version of a parking spot. To the right is more trees and brush, but to the left, I see what
Fire it Up
means; this date involves paintball.

This should be interesting.

Kayla texted I would recognize Winter because she’ll be wearing a black baseball cap. Yeah, that’s not generic, considering I’ve already spotted five women wearing a different white cap.

I climb out of my car and walk toward the entrance, passing two more women wearing
black
hats. Groups are talking loudly, some smack talking, others are catching up, and yet here I stand like an idiot alone trying to figure out who my date is.

I spot a woman near the corner in a
black hat checking out the gear. I watch to see if she speaks to anyone, but she’s fixated on whatever it is in front of her. The woman has her hair pulled into a ponytail and is dressed in clothes similar to mine. From the back, she looks athletic, but I’m still not sure this is the one I’m supposed to be meeting. There’s some noise behind me, and I spot another woman walking from the parking lot who catches my eye. I think she might be the one, but she jogs toward the left and meets up with a group of people.

Not her.

My attention goes back to the lone woman
, and I watch for a minute to see if anyone joins her. I walk the short distance to where she is standing and clear my throat before speaking to get her attention.

“Winter?”
I lightly tap her on the shoulder and wait for her to speak.

She turns to
look at me and my jaw drops, but so does hers.

“Trey?”

“Faith?”

“What are you doing here?”
She rubs her fingers over her forearm.

“Date number three. What are you doing here?”
My eyes narrow for a moment while I try to take in what’s happening.

She shakes her head
and bites her lip to keep from smiling. “I think I’m date number three.”

“I’m meeting someone named
Winter.”

She rolls her eyes and huffs out loud, “Is that really the name they gave you? Jasmine is an idiot. When she found out my middle name years ago, she’s made it her mission to use it every chance she gets.” She’s rambling, but my head is trying to catch up.

“Wait,” I put a hand up to stop her from saying anything until I have some questions answered. “Jasmin, as in Jasmin Brown?”

She cocks her head to the side and
her eyes fill with shock. “Yeah, we were roommates in college, I stayed with her for a few days until my apartment was ready. How do
you
know her?”

“She’s Kayla’s cousin,” I answer. “How were you roommates and you never met Kayla?”

“Did you meet
all
of your roommate’s relatives?” she snaps back at me in an accusatory tone.

I decide to change the subject because this entire situation is
ridiculous. “So your middle name is Winter? Faith Winter Young?”

“Yep.”
Her head bobs in a noncommittal way, as if we’ve gone over this before.

“But I thought you’re dating Brad.” I’m confused because she threw his name out when we were on
the cliff and never stopped for the remainder of the weekend.

We spent one night together, a night she doesn’t remember, and I’ve made assumptions about her based on the fact that she cheated on her boyfriend.
With me.

This time, she looks completely away from me, and I know it’s not something she wants to talk about.

“We have this open policy when we aren’t in the same town. I know it sounds stupid, but it was easier than breaking up. And it works.
For now
.” Her eyes fall back to me and there’s a hint of disappointment in them. Or maybe she has simply accepted their situation.

“And you didn’t think anything of it when you heard you were meeting Trey and it was a blind date? I mean, you knew about the ‘marathon’ dates.” I laugh, curious how she didn’t figure it out.

Her cheeks flush and she lets out a laugh of her own. “I didn’t know I was meeting
a
Trey.”

My lip quirks, in what I can assume is an unattractive way by her reaction, “
Who were you told you’re meeting?”

“I’d rather not say; it’ll probably go to your head,” she states, trying to end the exchange as she walks toward
the counter to rent the paintball gear.

“Now you have to say,” I stand next to her and nudge her shoulder. “What name did Kayla give?”

She runs her hand over her mouth and looks away. “Romeo.”

“What? You’re kidding me. And you didn’t think to question it?” I laugh at her obvious dismissal of the name.

She turns to me with red cheeks and laughs, speaking louder, “I don’t know, people have all sorts of strange names for kids these days.”

“Wow, Faith. I’m not sure about this
.” I narrow my eyes and shake my head.

“Yeah, me either,”
she scoffs. “I’m going to kill Jasmin, and I don’t know your friend Kayla, but I kinda want to kick her ass, too.”

“I’ll text you her address.”
Maybe hold her down so you can do it.

This is a strange turn of events. Here I was dreading date number three, but I think it might be the most entertaining of all. We are, after all, competition, and what better place to work out your aggression
than on a paintball course.

They put us in a team with a group of people who have clearly come here together. I was hoping that we wouldn’t have to be on the same side, and from the look on he
r face, she feels the same way.

“I was
going to enjoy shooting you.” She smiles and bats her eyes, feigning innocence.

“
Back at you,” I say with a straight face. “Guess we have to work together. Again,” I say with a mopey tone. But really, I think I might like having her on my side.

The leader explains the boundaries and rules to us
, and we both listen intently to obtain as much information as possible. We strap on our gear and position the protective goggles over our eyes before giving each other a high five, because we plan to annihilate the competition. I guess since we can’t do it to each other, we should feel bad for the poor bastards we’re about to take down, but we’re too busy laughing to care.

The referee holds his white flag and signals the start of the game; both teams scurry to hiding places within the boundaries
and take cover. Faith runs to a tree with a wide base and crouches down, and I run to a wall that is erected with a target painted over it. People are yelling and taunting, but we both remain quiet, stalking our victims.

We make visual contact with each other and neither of us
says a word.

I’ve never played paintball before, but these few short minutes are the most fun I’ve had in a while. I watch Faith as she, with pinpoint precision, peeks from behind the tree and hits a target
that is running past.
Poor bastard never saw her.
I give her a thumbs up and peek out from behind my spot and shoot two rounds, hitting a guy who was about to shoot one of my teammates.

I
nod to Faith and mouth, “How many?”

She shrugs and
lifts her head up, I assume she’s doing a mental tally and when she shows me a count of eight, I smile. Sixteen of us came in, and we’ve shot two of our opponents. She starts laughing and points, waving me over. I peek around the wall and when I see the coast is clear, I sling my gun over my shoulder and make run for it. She shoots three times, and I hear another guy groan somewhere behind me, but I don’t bother to check where the noise came from.

I dive at the last moment and trip over a branch tha
t sticks out of the ground and tumble toward Faith. Before I land, possibly hurting her, I try to push away throwing myself onto my back to avoid a collision. Somehow she ends up on top of me and covers my mouth with her hand. She raises a finger up to silence me and points somewhere past me.

I’m not sure what her plan is, but I’ll let her stay where she is for as long as she wants. Faith
turns to check both sides and whispers, “Make that five more left.”

“What now?” I ask before she drops her face to my neck.

She muffles a whisper, “Someone’s behind us. Be. Still.”

I don’t see anyone, but I don’t have the same vantage point she does. He
r breath is hot against my neck, and my free hand is holding her to me. The position is too familiar, and I half expect her to cave in and admit she does remember everything.

I turn
to her and whisper in her ear, “We need to move soon, they know where we are.”

I try to formulate an exit plan in my head, but she lifts her head and scans the area. She looks down
at me and drops a quick kiss to my lips. “Cover me.”

I’m stunned by the kiss as I watch her move away. She looks back and sees my smile, but takes off running. The sounds of
shots being fired from somewhere cause me to get back in the action when I see someone attempt to shoot Faith. Fortunately they miss, and when I try to find the culprit, I’m out of luck. Whoever it was is hidden.
Well
.

She keeps running
but before she dives into her new hiding spot I see someone aiming for her so I turn and fire, hitting the woman in the chest. I run over to join Faith and she high fives me. We laugh while we try to catch our breath, but we are huddled close together to hide and all I want to do is kiss her again to see if it sparks her memory.

What possessed her to kiss me in the first place?

We’re so close I can smell her. Even with nature around us, I can smell her flowery perfume and sweet shampoo and all I want to do in find someplace to study every inch of her again.

“There’s about four more left,” she says, snapping me out of my strange scent infatuation.

“How many have we lost?”

“I have no idea, but
they probably have less than four, unless our guys got more.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” I say with a salute. I step out from behind the brush and walk slowly, watching where I step to avoid noise and
check for any movement around me.

Nothing.

There is complete silence when I hear the sudden snap of a branch. Faith jumps out next to me and we stand back to back, looking around for our would-be shooter, but we don’t see anyone. The adrenaline that is pumping over a game is insane, but it’s there, and having Faith at my back is making the surge even stronger. I feel myself relax, but the next moment I hear her yell something before she is pushing me down, and I see her get tagged by a spray of paint.

Faith is on the ground
, and I jump to my feet to defend her, only to get tagged by the same shits who got her.

We’re lying on the ground, breathing heavy but neither of us
is moving. “Son of a bitch, that stings,” she says as she rubs her hand over the protective vest. I laugh, but I’m not laughing at her.

“No shit,” I remark, rubbing my back where I was shot. I give her my hand to help her up and pull her to her feet. She is an absolute mess, but it’s pretty damn sexy. “Teenage assholes.”

She laughs, and I throw my arm over her shoulder as we walk back to the starting point. I’m not sure what possessed me to make the friendly gesture, yet here I am, doing it.

“I wish it was me that got to shoot you,” she pouts.

“Yeah, likewise, Young” I give her a squeeze and drop my arm, not realizing how natural the gesture felt until I stopped doing it. “Wanna go again? I’ll pay them more to let us shoot each other.”