Page 133 of Bad Run

“So, what do you think?”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Thought so.” My date shoots me a cheeky grin as he hands me the oversized, pink stuffed panda and hooks his arm around my shoulders, leading me away from yet another carnival game he’s beaten.

Lance’s last stop was a walk down the Santa Monica Pier and a quick stop at the amusement park. This part of the date is not what I would expect from him, but it’s turned out to be amazing. I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard.

I love seeing this lighter, more relaxed side of him. It reminds me of when we skipped out of the club. Ready for an adventure. No plan, just fun.

“What’s next on the agenda?” I ask Lance, clutching the panda with one arm and wrapping the other around his waist.

We started out on the Ferris wheel for the view, which we missed because we ended up making out like teenagers the entire time. Then I watched him win every game he played and give his winnings to children passing by.

Except for the pink panda. That’s mine.

Lance stops and faces me, trapping the stuffed bear between us. He brushes a curtain of curls behind my ear, grazing my skin. At his touch, goosebumps pimple the skin along my neck and arm. “Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Name it, and it’s yours.” His lips find my forehead, and I swoon, legs shaky and heart racing.

“You have got to stop telling me that.” I sigh, looking into his beautiful blue eyes.

“Never.”

“Giving me whatever I want might get you into trouble one day,” I warn.

“I think I can handle that. One more game?”

“My choice?”

“Your choice.” Lance smirks.

I’ve been paying attention, and there is one game he’s been avoiding. “In that case, I choose the Hoop Shot.”

Lance’s eyebrows lift in surprise. “Hoop shot, really?”

“You’ll see.” I slip out of his arms, stepping backward. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little basketball.”

“Talking smack already.” Lance lunges forward, scooping me and the panda into his arms, and carries me to the free-throw booth.

He places me on my feet and takes the panda, setting it on the ground. “Show me what you’ve got, little witch.”

Lance pays, and the attendant hands me the ball.

I stare at the hoop, mentally calculating the distance, as Lance stands just out of the way, his hip resting against the railing, with his arms crossed and a rather amused look on his face.

My grin can’t be contained. “No being a sore loser, okay?”

“Just shoot the ball.”

“Fine.” I inhale a deep breath and, with my exhale, I shoot. At the peak of my jump, I release the ball, flicking my wrist just right so the ball rolls off my fingertips, creating the perfect backspin. The ball floats through the air in a perfect parabola, falling perfectly through the hoop with a swish of the net.

“Your turn.”

Lance shakes his head with a laugh, as if he already knows how this is going to go down. “Hand me the ball.”

He misses his first two shots, but makes the third, while I sink all three of mine.