After eating dinner alone in his room, Luke spent another restless night, thoughts fluctuating between anticipation of seeing Julia again and dread that he may have somehow screwed things up. His impulsive behavior continued to risk making a mess of things with her, with the sim, possibly with both. He was wide awake and irritable as hell when the corgi alarm system scampered by, and he uncharitably imagined drop-kicking one or two of the fluff balls.
What if, after their kiss in the woods yesterday, she’d been upset when he didn’t show last night? They hadn’t discussed dinner. Hadn’t made plans of any kind. But if Julia had been thinking about him even half as much as his thoughts had been focused on her, she’d have noticed his absence. Would she be mad at him? Or, as Zach had predicted, even more interested in seeing him again?
He wasn’t going to get any answers lying in bed. And he certainly wasn’t going to get any sleep. Luke got dressed, pulling on one of his old shirts. He was so out of sorts right now; he needed something that felt normal. Besides, they were playing paintball today, not the best time to try out a fancy new wardrobe.
Thinking about the day ahead, Luke bypassed breakfast, grabbing a coffee and heading outside. He needed to gather his thoughts, get some fresh air. But taking his usual walk on the beach wasn’t an option. Simply considering it was enough to stir up thoughts of Julia. He needed to clear his mind, not cloud it.
He decided to head out to the paintball field and see how the final setup was coming along. Luke reached the edge of the south lawn and finished his coffee, looking over the capture-the-flag-style obstacle course. Towering stacks of hay bales created a variety of strategic hiding places for players to ambush each other. Twin wooden observation decks faced off from opposite sides of the field; a brightly colored flag, one red, one blue, waved tauntingly from each. Glancing at the flags, Luke felt a rush of anticipation.
“You’re excited about getting to play today, aren’t you?”
He turned to see Vijay crossing the field. “What makes you say that?”
“You’re making the same face you did when you found that Atari system at a yard sale.”
“It was a boxed fifty-two hundred. In mint condition.”
“You’re right.” Vijay grinned. “It was pretty sweet.” His smile faded as he took in Luke’s clothes. “Dude. What was the point of doing a makeover montage if you’re just going to keep wearing your old shit?”
“No one is going to see my ‘old shit’ underneath the paintball stuff,” Luke argued.
“Oh. My bad. I didn’t realize you were planning to spend the entire day in those coveralls like some serial killer,” Jay snarked, his tone indicating that he considered Luke to be a lost cause. “A Pac-Man shirt. Really?”
“Pac-Man is a legend,” Luke declared haughtily.
Jay groaned. “At least I know what to bury you in.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Your sister is ready to kill you.” Jay shook his head. “Pen guessed you’d be out here. She told me to tell you to get your bossy ass back to the hotel.”
Luke’s stomach dropped. “What’d I do this time?” Immediately, his thoughts turned to Julia. Had Penelope found out about their little woodland tryst after all? Guilt prickled in his chest. He’d let things go too far.
“You got into it with Zach. Again.” Jay tsked. “After Pen explicitly said she was going to handle him. And she can, you know.”
“I know she can.”
“Then give her a chance.” His friend’s reproach was mild, but Luke detected the undercurrent of frustration. And disappointment.
“I’m trying to let go of being in charge.” Luke shifted uncomfortably under Jay’s doubtful gaze, the back of his neck hot with shame. It was true, he hated not being in control. It was a constant struggle to resist double-checking everything Penelope did. But he’d made his sister game master, and more than that, he’d promised to respect her position. He’d already bent that promise multiple times. “I’ll do better.”
“I hope so, for Pen’s sake,” Jay said. “And for yours,” he added, mouth curving in a sardonic grin. “You need to learn how to loosen up. Stop trying to control everything all the time.”
“Funny you should say that.” Luke observed sarcastically. “Lately I feel like nothing is in my control.” Maybe that was his problem. Ever since he’d rashly decided to put Pen in charge, it was as if a seal had been broken. That one impulsive choice to jump into the game had been the first domino, setting off a chain reaction of other impulsive acts. Like yesterday in the woods with Julia. “Have you ever met someone who made it impossible to think straight?”
His friend cocked his head, studying him. “I’m guessing you have?”
Luke winced. Again, he’d acted without thinking, the question spilling out of his mouth before he could stop it. But he realized he didn’t regret it. Despite his discomfort and the potential for embarrassment, he wanted to know Jay’s answer. “Obviously, since I’m asking.”
Jay was silent for a moment. “Yeah, I have.” His mouth quirked. “Your sister.”
Luke laughed. There was no question Pen got under his friend’s skin and scrambled his brain. She could do that to him, too. But that was a sibling thing. Not at all like what he felt around Julia. Clearly, Jay had misunderstood his meaning. Luke shook his head, deciding it was best to change the subject. “Where is she, anyway?”
“Checking on the thing Mrs. W. asked for.”
“Right.” Luke eyed his friend. “I remember you saying something about that yesterday. What is this thing?”
“Oh, you’ll see,” Jay hedged.
“Not even a little hint?” Luke wheedled.
“Nope,” Jay said breezily, blatantly enjoying taunting him. “Now stop fretting and get moving. The teams are supposed to meet in the lobby in less than an hour.”
Not long after he arrived back at the hotel, the lobby began to fill with players. Luke noted with satisfaction that Zach was among the first to arrive. The actor had changed from his rom-com hero uniform of V-neck, jeans, and boots into sweats and sneakers, but somehow the dude still looked like a cologne ad. He’d probably look good even in the paintball coveralls they were all forced to wear.
Sure enough, once everyone had checked in, signed their waivers, and zipped up their coveralls, Zach managed to look like a superhero while Luke was a scarecrow, arms and legs sticking out awkwardly from his ill-fitting uniform. Glancing around the room, he noticed Julia and her dark-haired friend putting on their uniforms while chatting with an older couple. He tried to casually make his way over to where they stood.
His attempt at subtlety was blown when the man glanced over at Luke and guffawed. “So much ‘for one size fits all,’ eh?” He chortled, tugging at the zipper on his coveralls, where it strained over his generous middle. “Doesn’t work so well for us big and tall fellas.”
The woman next to the man patted his belly affectionately. “We know you’re the big part of that equation.” She turned to Luke. “And you’re definitely the tall part.” She smiled up at him. “I’m Sally. This is my husband, Harry.”
Luke returned the smile and was debating whether to introduce himself as Lance or Luke when Julia made that decision for him.
“Luke!” Julia beamed and reached for him, then abruptly drew back, smile fading and arms dropping to her sides.
Luke’s gut tightened. He offered her an awkward, apologetic grin, noticing how her sleeves were dangling past her fingers. “Can I help?”
“Um, sure.” She held her arm out to him.
“You two know each other?” Sally asked.
“We, ah, met here. At the resort,” Julia answered, voice a little unsure as she looked at Luke. “But I haven’t seen him around for a bit.”
“How could you miss him?” Harry joked.
Luke folded the fabric, tucking it tight to keep it from coming loose. His hand brushed the delicate skin of her wrist and she shivered. He paused. “Ticklish?”
“A bit,” she admitted, questions still lurking in her hazel eyes.
His mouth went dry and his mind went blank. He’d thought of a hundred things to say to her the next time he saw her, and now he couldn’t think of one.
After an agonizing beat of silence, Julia glanced down. “Oh, my.” The corner of her mouth tilted. “Someone is showing a shocking amount of leg.”
Grateful for the reprieve, Luke exhaled, following the direction of her gaze, to where his coveralls stopped midcalf. When he’d pulled on the uniform, his jeans had gotten bunched up inside the leg holes and he hadn’t bothered trying to fix it, an oversight he now regretted. Embarrassed, he bent down and yanked on the hem of his jeans, pulling them over his exposed shins and ankles. “There.” He straightened. “Is that better?”
“Not really.” Julia bit her lip, but it didn’t stop the smile from taking over her whole mouth. “You look ridiculous.”
“Just wait until I put on the goggles.”
She laughed.
“If you’re laughing at me, I don’t blame you,” Andie said. She was sprawled out on the floor, rolling up the bottoms of her coveralls.
“We were just discussing how sexy these paintball uniforms are.” Julia posed, placing a hand on her waist and popping her hip out to the side.
“Stunning.” Andie got to her feet and stuck out a leg. “I had to roll the cuffs on these so many times I look like I’m wearing leg warmers.”
“Somebody might be really into that,” Luke suggested.
“If they have an eighties fetish, sure,” Andie snorted. “Let me go grab my ripped off-the-shoulder sweatshirt and I’ll be set.”
“What’s wrong with liking the nineteen eighties?”
Instead of answering him, Andie gestured at his uniform. “Hey, you’re blue too!”
“I am,” Luke agreed. The players were divided by uniform color: red and blue. “Looks like we’re on the same team.”
Andie cracked her knuckles. “As long we kick ass, I’m not complaining.”
“Where’s your other friend?” he asked Julia.
She eyed him with a hint of suspicion. “Why?”
“Just curious.” Luke laughed, and immediately cringed, sure she could hear the note of nervous guilt in his voice. “The three of you seem to be kind of a package deal, that’s all.” Even though he wasn’t lying, exactly—she and her friends did seem to always be together—he still felt like a jerk. But if the reporter missed the paintball match, then his efforts to make sure Zach showed up would be wasted.
“She’s in the bathroom, fixing her hair.” Julia shrugged. “It looked fine to me.”
“Who cares what it looks like?” Andie rolled her eyes. “It’s about to be covered in paint in ten minutes anyways.” She surveyed the room, taking stock of the other players. “Uh-oh.”
“What’s wrong?” Julia glanced around.
“I figured out why Kat is primping.” Andie gazed across the lobby. “It looks like her pretty boy is on the opposing team.” She caught Luke’s eye. “I meant Bridget.”
“It’s fine,” he assured her. “You kind of let the ‘Kat’ out of the bag yesterday.” He winked.
“Punny.” Andie snorted. “Are you always this clever?”
“I have my moments.”
Andie turned to Julia. “Should we officially give up on the character name thing?”
“Probably, since I keep messing up too…” Julia fiddled with the elastic strap on her goggles. “What do you think, Luke?”
As GM, Luke would have been steadfastly against the idea. While in play, a character was expected to maintain their assigned role. But this was a different style of LARP; the personas of this game were similar enough to real people it was easy to forget they were pretending.
Which, now that he thought about it, presented a problem all its own, made the situation even more perilous. In most LARPs, the line between fantasy and reality was clearly defined—easy enough when one was pretending to be in a medieval forest or on another planet or even in a Victorian mansion. But the boundaries this rom-com world had were vague, at best. Fantasy and reality blurred.
Maybe it had been a mistake to start calling each other by their real names. If so, it was too late to go back now. And the truth of the matter was, even if they could manage to stick to the fake names, Luke didn’t want to. He liked calling Julia by her real name. Even better, he liked it when she called him by his.
Either of these realizations should have set off warning bells. Even more alarming, however, was the fact he wasn’t nearly as concerned about the dangerous shift from make-believe to reality as he knew he should be. As the GM for other LARPs, Luke had pulled more than one overzealous player back from the edge. Usually, that meant redirecting the flow of action, breaking up a staged fight before someone actually got hurt.
This time, he’d given up the role of game master. Now he was the one in danger of getting in over his head. He needed to be careful. If he let himself get carried away and somehow messed up the sim, he risked more than a bloody nose or sprained wrist. He risked his future.
Luke rubbed the back of his neck, tamping down the worry creeping up inside. “I think it’s probably okay,” he finally said. “As long as we remember this is all just pretend.”
“Right.” Julia smiled weakly. “Pretend.”
Except there was nothing pretend about the way she made him feel.
“You know what’s not pretend?” Andie asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet like a boxer warming up for a fight. “The way I’m going to litter that field with red uniforms.”
By this point, the room had split into two groups, red and blue congregating on opposite ends of the lobby. Kat finally emerged from the bathroom and joined them, just as Andie cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “Red is dead!”
Someone on the other side shouted back, “Oh, yeah?”
Luke recognized that voice. And that phrase.
Apparently, Andie did too, because she immediately moved to the edge of the blue group and hollered, “Eat dirt, Curt!”
Football jersey guy cut through the sea of red. “Make me!”
Zach joined Curt at the front of the red group, eyes fixed on Kat as he replied, “But what if we want to make love, not war?” He reached for her hand, pressing a cartoonishly gallant kiss to her knuckles amid a wave of coos, catcalls, and whistles.
Luke shook his head with a mix of disgust and admiration at the man’s confidence and audacity.
“Hey, eighties boy.” Andie elbowed Luke in the ribs. “What do they say about love?”
Before he could figure out what she was referring to, she’d already turned back to face her opponent.
“Oh, yeah.” The feisty woman mimicked Curt’s catchphrase and lifted her chin. “Love is a battlefield.”
“Bring it on, baby.” Full of bluster, Curt was clearly relishing the combative exchange.
From the gleam in her dark eyes, it was apparent that Andie was enjoying it too. She stepped closer, until she was toe-to-toe with her nemesis. In a low growl she warned, “You’re going to regret that.”
Forty-five minutes later, out of breath and crouched behind a bunker, Luke was the one feeling regret. Itchy, sweaty regret. Who in their right mind considered this fun? He slumped down, back pressed against his refuge of hay, sucking in giant gulps of air. He should have let the red team have him. He was not a runner. He did not run. They’d been playing for a solid thirty minutes now and he was exhausted.
If this was a video game, he’d be kicking ass. But all of his mental speed and manual dexterity was useless when he ran like a newborn colt who hadn’t gotten his legs under him yet. Out in the open, he’d be shot down in a matter of seconds.
Paint-stained casualties lined the sidelines, cheering on their teammates and heckling their opponents. In the distance, he could hear Curt and Andie hurling insults and paint pellets as they chased each other around obstacles. They both seemed to have forgotten that the point of the game was to capture the other team’s flag.
Luke gambled and sneaked a peek around the edge of his hay bale. Both flags were still in place, each surrounded by a contingent of guards. He considered the situation. The sooner someone nabbed one of those damn flags, the sooner this would be over. Maybe he should just go for it.
Best-case scenario, he would actually succeed in getting his hands on the flag. Worst case, he would go out in a blaze of glory. Either option was more heroic than hiding behind a pile of hay, and both options would end his misery.
The only drawback to this plan was Zach. The actor had stationed himself at the top of the red flag’s tower and was playing sniper. Figures the jackass had great aim. Luke grimaced. Knowing his luck, the moment he stood up, GQ G.I. Joe would nail him with a paintball right to the nuts. He would stay right where he was, thank you very much.
Luke moved to the other side of his hiding place and checked on his team. To his surprise, Julia had taken up a similar position as sniper on the blue flag’s tower. Even more surprising? She was good. Really good. The girl had skill. Over and over again, red players approached the tower, only to be knocked out with one blue shot. As far as he could tell, she hadn’t missed once.
A flurry of movement caught his attention and he shifted his gaze to her flank, where a group of red players was slowly inching up the west side of the blue tower. Kat was in the rear guard position and should have been protecting Julia, but her focus was across the field, on Zach.
Aw, hell. It looked like he was going to have to play hero after all. With a grunt of resignation, Luke jumped up, shouting a warning to Julia. “Behind you!”
She blinked, glancing his way.
“Behind you!” He pointed.
He had no idea if his warning helped or not, because a second later he was thrown to the ground from behind.
“Phew! That was a close one.” Harry exhaled, rolling off Luke.
Luke lifted his face, spitting out a clump of grass. Just to his left, two red players cursed as they were pelted with blue paint.
“Nice shot, honey!” Harry bellowed, and Luke realized the man was yelling to his wife, who was hiding behind another hay bale a few feet away. “Come on,” the man ordered, grabbing Luke by the arm and all but hauling him to the bunker.
“I got ’em both!” Sally yelled, with gleeful aggression.
“You sure did, babe.” Harry reached across Luke to give his wife a hug. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.” Sally leaned over Luke and wrapped her arms around her husband.
And then the two were doing more than hugging; they were kissing. Eyes closed, mouths mashing together, with Luke stuck between them, their paint guns jabbing him in the ribs. “Uh, folks?”
“God, you’re so amazing,” Harry groaned.
“No, you’re amazing,” Sally panted.
“You both are amazing,” Luke assured them, sliding to the ground. Above him, the make-out session continued unimpeded, and he prayed a red player would come around the corner of the hay pile and take out all three of them. Or at the very least, him.
“Hey.” He poked one of them—he hoped it was Harry—in the side. “I think someone is coming.” At first it was just wishful thinking, an attempt to call a cease-fire before the couple got too carried away. But a moment later, Luke really did hear footsteps approaching.
He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the kill shot. Harry and Sally would go down happy, and good for them. But after a few moments of nothing happening—not counting the unsolicited amorous activities going on over his head—Luke risked opening one eye.
Julia stood there, mouth hanging open, as she gaped at the scene in front of her. He imagined what he must look like from her angle, legs sprawled on the ground, with Harry and Sally above him, making out like the world was ending.
“Ah, am I interrupting something?” she asked, lips pursing.
What was that look on her face? Surprise? Horror? Amusement? A little of all three?
“I don’t think these two can be interrupted,” Luke grumbled.
Julia burst out laughing. She came closer, nudging Sally. “Hey.”
Nothing.
She poked the butt of her paint gun into Harry’s back. “Hey!”
The couple remained oblivious, a moaning, groaning mass of heavy breathing and smacking lips.
“You weren’t kidding.” She shook her head. “I’ve heard of a kiss making you forget the world around you, but this is something else.”
“God, this is awkward.”
The thhrrrrup of a zipper opening caught both their attention.
Julia’s eyes widened. “I think it’s about to get a lot more awkward.”
“That’s it.” Luke thrust his arms up, forcing the two lovebirds to break apart.
“What’s the matter?” Harry asked, blinking in dazed confusion.
“Are we under attack?” Sally fumbled for her paint gun.
Watching this tableau unfold, Julia burst into laughter.
“Oh, you think this is funny, do you?” Luke muttered, as Harry and Sally resumed kissing. Thankfully, not on top of him this time.
“What?” Julia gestured at the couple now entwined in the grass nearby. “You don’t find this situation humorous?”
“I find it a tad disturbing.” He paused, face breaking into a grin. “And yes, I admit, completely hilarious.”
“I admit, I was a bit disturbed at the sight that greeted me when I came around that hay bale.” She moved closer and squatted down next to him. “The game’s over.”
“Did we win?”
“Yeah, Kat captured the red team’s flag.”
“I didn’t see that one coming.” Luke shook his head. “How’d she manage to pull that off?
“After the sneak attack almost got us—thanks for the warning, by the way—I told Kat that instead of being distracted by Zach she should be the distraction.”
“So what did she—” He paused as Julia mimed unzipping her coveralls. “Oh.”
“It worked.” Julia’s eyes twinkled, brown and green swirling with mischief.
“I bet it did.”
“I came back here to deliver the good news.” She pursed her lips. “But then I was the one who got distracted.”
“Understandable.”
“Hey, where did Harry and Sally go?”
“Horny and Hornier?” Luke glanced around, and sure enough, the couple had disappeared. “If we’re lucky, they went back to their room.”
She grinned. “They did mention they were hoping this place would rekindle the spark.”
“I’d say that’s mission accomplished.” He shook his head, shrugging. “If love is a battlefield, maybe paintball is couple’s therapy.”
“Maybe.” Julia straightened. “Everybody is headed down to the beach to cool off.” She held out her hand. “Wanna come?”
“I would, but there’s a problem.”
“What?”
Luke winced. “I can’t move my legs.”
“Are you injured?”
“Not exactly.”
“Are they numb from two people making out on top of you?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then, what happened?”
“I ran.”
“Did you twist something?” Her brow furrowed in concern. “I thought you said you weren’t injured.”
“I didn’t. I’m not. I just … I’m out of shape,” he admitted. “Really, really out of shape.”
Julia plopped down into the grass next to him. “Welcome to the club.”
“Please,” Luke snorted. “Your legs aren’t atrophied skin sacks.”
“Gross,” she giggled.
His heart did a funny little hiccup at the sound. He liked hearing her laugh. He loved being the one to make her laugh.
“I can’t just leave you here,” she said.
“Sure you can. Abandon me to the elements. Once I expire, the vultures will come and peck at my pathetic corpse.”
“I don’t think there are any vultures in Wisconsin.”
“Hush. You’re ruining my dramatic imagery.”
She erupted into giggles again.
Luke wanted to reach out and capture the buoyant sound of her laughter, like grasping at bubbles floating past. “Am I a terrible person if I admit I hate exercise?”
“If so, then we’re both terrible. Come on.” She offered her hand again. “You can do it.”
“Fine.” He heaved a sigh and was only a little ashamed that, all joking aside, he really did need her help getting back on his feet. His thigh and calf muscles screeched in protest as he stood. Once he started walking, things got better. He felt a little stiff, but otherwise fine.
By now the other players had cleared the field completely. Luke and Julia ditched their coveralls and goggles in a bin on the sidelines and maneuvered around the obstacle course of hay bales in companionable silence.
“Are you having fun here?” he finally asked, trying to keep his tone light. It meant a surprising amount to him that Julia enjoyed herself, and not just because of her potential influence on her reviewer friend.
“I’m having a good time.”
“Good.”
“A great time, actually.”
“Great,” he smiled.
“How about you?” she asked, peering up at him. “Are you having fun?”
“Not as much fun as Harry and Sally were, but yeah.”
He was rewarded with another round of giggles.