He winks. Winks! Who is this guy? He is playful and aggravating. I’m getting that damn strike if it kills me. I try to pick up his black ball, but the holes are too far apart. My fingers don’t fit. I use both hands and scoop it up. Devin cocks his head at me, but I give him a hair toss and charge forward.

“Watch this,” I tell him.

His voice is both sultry and condescending. “I’m watching.”

Let’s do this, Blackie. I take a deep breath and heave the heavy black ball with everything I have, hoping force will make up for aiming. Unfortunately, Blackie decides to go more up than forward. In a glorious arc, it soars forward before slamming down into the wood of the lane with a resounding thud that echoes across the alley. Shit. Can you get kicked out of a bowling alley? I’m about to find out.

I let out a loud gasp and slap my hands over my face. I spin back to Devin, eyes wide in panic. He’s laughing. Not chuckling. Not giggling. Laughing. Out loud! It’s a deep, rich exhilarating sound. I’ve been dreaming about this moment for weeks and every fantasy has fallen short of the majesty that is the sight of Devin Bennett laughing. His eyes are bright and light with crinkles in the corners. His luscious lips are curled up, revealing brilliant white teeth. Dimples aren’t a cute enough word to describe the adorable dip that turns his strong jaw into a playground. He is irresistible. My heart melts, puddling in my hideous bowling shoes.

My arms fall limp at my sides and my mouth drops open. I stare at him in complete awe. His eyes go wide with concern and he points behind me. I turn to look, convinced the bowling alley bouncer is coming to toss me out on my ass. There’s no burly bouncer. There’s just Blackie, rolling down the alley, straight and true. The ball hits the first pin dead on and keeps going. It surges through all ten pins, each teetering over in submission. Strike! I got a strike. Hysterical, I jump up and down.

I run into Devin’s arms, letting out a high-pitched victory squeal. He spins me around. I bury my face in the crook of his neck and let waves of pure happiness wash over me. Getting my first strike is nice, but it’s nothing compared to being in his arms. It feels so damn good. Hearing him laugh, knowing he’s let down that ton of bricks he carries around, even for just a second, is the best feeling in the world. He’s happy.