"Ok, wait… wait…. fire!" she giggled as he missed again.
"That thing is rigged," he muttered, frustration in his tone.
"No, it's not," she teased, laughter spilling out of her. He turned to her, finally breaking into a reluctant smile.
"Fine. Here." He handed her the dart gun, folding his arms across his chest.
"And what do I get if I hit one of those ships?" she asked, lifting her brow with mock challenge.
"Anything you want. Just say it."
Her brows rose higher. "Ok. Don't whine later on."
He rolled his eyes, and she smirked.
A moment later she jumped in triumph. "Yes!"
"Told you, you suck at aiming," she teased, laughing as his chuckle joined hers.
"Fine," he grumbled, handing her the stuffed giraffe. She pushed it back to him.
"It's yours" she casually stated, taking Chris by surprise, he held the toy in a death grip not out of annoyance but in a way to vent out how that little act, felt like his first big business win.
"What do you want?" he asked breaking the silence as they strolled away.
"Don't rush me," she mumbled.
"Ok." His easy reply slipped into a silence comfortable, steady, almost warm.
Her voice cut through softly. "My last relationship was hell."
His gaze snapped to her.
"Why? Was he like me?" he teased, but she shoved him lightly.
"No. He was abusive." She smiled faintly at the ground, but when she looked up, she saw him stop dead. Rolling her eyes, she tugged his hand to keep him moving.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. She scoffed.
"It's nothing. Do I look like I was affected by that?"
His brows drew together. "No. But people with the deepest wounds usually smile the brightest." Her eyes narrowed.
"Are you saying I have problems?"
"I'm saying… I'm not saying you do," he stumbled, and she gave a half nod.
"We were together for nine years. He was all I knew. A girl on the street and a boy on the street we just… clung to each other." She chuckled faintly as a clown nearly toppled over nearby.
"Why did you stay?" His voice was quieter now.
"Because he was all I had."
"And why did you leave?" Her eyes met his, steady.
"Because he nearly killed me."
She walked backward as she spoke, gaze never faltering.
"Two days of torture and a stab wound later, I finally ran. Chose to be independent, even if I didn't know how." There was no sadness in her face, just a quiet resilience that made him ache to understand her.
"One year later I got the hang of it. And then you came along, Mr. Lopez." Her lips curled faintly as she turned away again.
"So far it feels right. But I can't understand you," she whispered. He caught her wrist and gently pulled her to a stop.
"What don't you understand?" he asked, voice low.
"Derek wanted power and obedience. Dedication. Good sex. What do you want?"
Their eyes locked. Something in her innocence burned through him, and before he realized, his hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing over her lips. His chest tightened. Above her head, he caught sight of a cotton candy stand. He tore his gaze away.
"Come on." He laced his fingers through hers and pulled her toward it, buying her one, forcing the air lighter. Inside, though, his thoughts spun, protective instincts he'd never expected rising sharp and strong.
The drive home was quiet she'd fallen asleep, and it made him smile. She looked untouched by the world in that moment, though he knew better. He parked in front of his place, lingering to watch her sleep, wondering about the battles she'd fought alone.
"Hey," he murmured. Her eyes blinked open, hazy.
"This… isn't my place," she whispered.
"No. But it's mine. Come on. You should rest properly." His voice left no room for refusal.
Susan stretched and followed him inside.
"Make yourself comfortable. I have some work to do, but I'll join you in bed," he promised. She nodded, though she narrowed her eyes as she tugged on his grey shirt.
"Play this safe," she whispered under her breath, crawling into bed.
Lying back, her fingers traced the scar across her stomach. Doubt pressed at her chest. Had she done the right thing opening up to him? He hadn't hidden his past, so maybe she was right not to hide hers. When she looked up, he was leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, gaze fixed on her fingers over the scar.
"You're still awake?" His voice was low. She nodded. He disappeared briefly, returned freshened up, and lay beside her. She half-expected him to reach for her but he didn't.
"Don't change because of what I told you," she said quietly.
"I don't want what Derek wanted."
Her breath caught. "That's all I know," she admitted.
"Obeying?" she whispered. He chuckled.
"You've changed in a year. You're nothing close to obedient."
"Give it time."
He shifted, propping himself on his elbow to look down at her. She stared back, heartbeat quickening.
"Remember the reward? The control you had that night?"
A blush crept to her cheeks, but she nodded.
"That's the woman I want," he said firmly.
"In bed?" Her voice trembled, her heart racing.
"No. In everything. I was drawn to your stubbornness. At first, I wanted to break it, to make you submit. But when you did, I hated it. And I realized I wanted something else from you entirely." His words carried a weight she couldn't ignore.
She turned her eyes back to the ceiling. "Maybe this might work," she whispered.
"Yeah," he murmured, just as quietly.
"I have to go to work," Susan said to him.
"What about your reward?" he murmured.
"That can wait," she groaned. He had her hand pinned above her head.
"Now or never," he replied. She stared into his eyes.
"That's unfair," she whispered.
"How about we meet at the Beast you can reward me there," she suggested. His eyes darkened.
"Where it all began," she added. He smiled and let her go.
"Sure, why not," he replied, kneeling on his bed.
"See you later?" she asked, unbuckling her seatbelt.
"Yeah." He waved. She got out of the car and walked into Sweets.