Page 12 of Sweet
Dream released my hand and skipped toward the desk, tapping her nails against the surface. “Excuse me,” she sang.
The employee rolled her eyes, dramatically groaned, then tossed her head to the side before finally acknowledging us. “Oh, hey, Danika. Long time no see.” Her dull eyes shot to me before returning to Dream. “How many?” she asked in a low, bored monotone voice.
Dream held up her fingers in a peace sign. “Two, please!” She glanced at me with a devious smile then turned to face the employee. “All access.”
Why do those two words make me nervous?
The employee tapped away at her keyboard, speaking to Dream. “Any special occasion?”
She whipped her head around as her hair swayed, clipped atop her head. She raised her brow, then leaned against the desk as she popped her leg back. “Oh, yeah. I’m on a date.” Shebraced her head against her palm, still staring at me. “Isn’t he gorgeous?”
My dick jumped and I quickly cleared my throat, turning away and hoping she didn’t notice the bulge growing beneath my jeans.
The employee sighed. “Eh, he’s okay. Just not my type.”
Dream leaned forward, whispering loudly to the woman. “He’s definitelymytype. I like them a little crazy.” She giggled.
If only she knew how crazy I can really be.
The woman rolled her eyes and focused on her computer. “Whatever. You always were into weird shit. Room three is open, by the way. You know the rules…and no smoking this time.” Dream nodded. “Cool. Head on back, and play nice, you two. We don’t need another lawsuit on our hands.” Dream blew a raspberry.
What the hell does that even mean?
Before I could muster a word, Dream gripped my wrist and pulled me past the desk and down a small hallway lit only by blacklights. The paint and graffiti along the walls and surfaces all glowed vibrantly in the purple-blue hue. “I’m sorry, but do you know her?” I threw my thumb back, motioning toward the employee behind us. The music thumped louder and I could hear voices from other people. “What even is this place?” I asked, looking around, both amazed and nervous.
We stopped in front of a closed door labeled with the number three. Dream spun around, leaned against it, and shouted up at me so I could hear her over the blasting music. “It’s called Rage Play! Think of it as a rage room that meets paintballing and mashes them together!” She was adorable as she used her hands to explain. “And the woman at the front desk? She’s an old friend! So is the owner of this place! I’m kind of like an investor!”
I couldn’t hide how I was both shocked and impressed by what she said. More so because even after combing through her online presence, I had no idea.
How did I not know this?
“Come on!” Dream swung the door open. It led into a small room, covered in years’ worth of paint and filled with piles and piles of junk. “Oh! I almost forgot!” Dream skipped from the room as I stood there and took it all in, noticing a camera and a few speakers which blared the thumpy music. The sound of her footsteps hurried back and she reappeared, holding two pairs of safety glasses and two white protective coveralls. “You’re going to need these.”
I followed her lead, stepping into the protective gear and placing the glasses over my eyes. Dream covered her mouth and tried not to laugh as I adjusted the hood around my face. “What?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Nothing…you just look a little silly with that on.” She pointed to the hood, strands of my hair shooting out in various directions. Dream walked over and leaned up, using her nails to try and tuck the wild strands back. “How can you wear a mask with such thick hair?”
Before I could answer, she tripped a little, stumbling into my grasp where I caught her. We both froze, eyes locked as I swear the room went silent. My heart beat loudly, pounding against my chest. All I could smell was her. And all I could feel was the warmth of her body against mine, making something stir within me.
“Don’t stop,” I breathed.
Dream’s eyes glistened as she continued to carefully tuck each strand of my hair beneath the hood, grazing the palm of her hand along the skin of my face. “Your hair is so soft…I like the way it feels when it twists around my fingers.” She pressed herfingertip gently against my face. “Your skin is surprisingly soft, too. I like the way it feels.”
Fuck…this woman is driving me insane. Focus, Felix. Get your shit together
I cleared my throat, helping her back to her feet. “So…” I struggled to form a single thought, drunk on this weird buzzing feeling she had me experiencing. “So, what exactly are we supposed to do?”
Dream smiled, leaving her hair free from the protective hood. “Let me show you!” She danced over to one of the nearby walls, picking through an array of objects before raising a bat. With a grin and a pep in her step, she swung the bat into an old TV set, smashing the glass with raw force. The woman let out a loud scream-like squeal. “See?!” She swung the bat a few more times, obviously enjoying herself as she beat the TV to a pulp before popping back up, huffing with red cheeks. “Well, come on! Give it a try!”
I walked over and picked up another bat which was covered in paint, then looked around the junk-filled room. “So, I just…hit things?” Dream nodded, smashing her bat into a blender.
Why does this feel so wrong?
Eyeing the piles of junk, I settled on an old glass window propped against the wall.
I just…swing the bat and break shit. Seems easy enough.
I raised my arm and swung, breaking the window in one go. Glass shattered around my feet as I felt excitement peek through. I swung again, breaking a second window. Adrenaline coursed through my veins at how oddly satisfying it felt to break shit.
