Too Strong: Chapter 9

“YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS,” Vee says, narrowing her silver eyes like she’s adding stern credibility to her words. It would throw me off track if not for her rosy, kissable lips twisting into a smile when we stop by the row of claw machines.

Same lips she closes round a straw, sipping a cherry Slurpee.

Same lips I can’t fucking wait to taste again.

“You know the odds are stacked against us, right?” she continues, trailing her fingers along the lever. “It’s rigged. I read that it takes anything between thirty to fifty tries to win.”

I hand her my cup and the half-empty bag of caramel nuts I bought on our way here, then nudge her hip so she steps aside, out of the way. “You’ll have to be patient. I told you I have an order to fulfill.”

She leans against the glass, eyeing the toys inside, focused, amused, and a little curious. “You’ve got an order for a plushie?” she asks, biting her lip.

It’s a signal girls use to tease, but Vee’s not teasing. She’s doing it unconsciously, I can tell. Not that it works any different, enticing me to replace her teeth with mine.

“Last time I was here,” I say, derailing all thoughts of my teeth and Vee’s lips before I reach the point of no return and claim her right here. “I won that.” I tap the glass, pointing out a green, big-eyed t-rex, then insert a few coins in the slot. “I gave it to my nephew, Noah. He took it everywhere for weeks.” I pause, watching the claw dive, grab the toy, then let go as soon as it pulls up. “They went for a walk down the pier last night, and Logan didn’t notice it fall out of the buggy. He ran back, but it was gone, and Noah’s been crying ever since so I need another one.”

“Oh…” she utters, her features softening like her voice as she watches the claw plummet again. “That’s nice of you.”

“Don’t sound so surprised. I nice.” The claw grips the t-rex and this time, it doesn’t let go. The prize tumbles out of the machine straight into my waiting hands. “One in thirty?” I tease, pulling my phone out to snatch a picture before sending it to the Hayes group chat.

Me: Got a replacement. I’ll be over soon to drop it off.

“You got lucky,” Vee muses. “Someone must’ve played earlier and gave up too soon.”

“You wanna bet?”

She sucks the straw again, looking me over from under thick, black eyelashes. She’s fucking stunning. Caramel hair in a ponytail, a few loose locks flirting with her neck, eyes so gray you’d think they’re contacts, and that freckle-peppered nose she keeps scrunching in the cutest way. The shape of her mouth, the arch of her dark brows…

I’m a goner.

So fucking whipped. So fucking into her it knocks the breath out of my chest. I wonder if this is what my older brothers felt when they first met their girls.

Probably not. Theo kept Thalia as a friend for months before growing a pair to make a move. Logan was a no-strings-attached deal with Cassidy before he realized he’s in love, and Mia wasn’t even Nico’s type, so this weird attachment I feel toward Vee can’t be normal or common.

“Sure, why not?” she says, putting her game face on. “If you win the next one in less than thirty… no, forget it, less than tries, then—” She meets my eyes, lifting her chin slightly. “Yeah, what then?”

“I get one wish.”

My lips, her lips, and no distance between.

I thought I could do it. I thought I could last the entire evening without stealing a kiss, but whenever I look at her, my mind summons the memory of our kiss in the garage. The way she felt pressed against me, the sweet little sounds she made, how she tasted, and how every touch of her hands on my head, round my neck, and in my hair drove me half fucking stupid with need.

The more I think about that kiss, the more I want her. The more I understand she’s made for me, the more I crave her body, mind… the whole package.

“Okay, but more than forty and the wish is mine,” she says, eyeing the plushies.

“Deal. You’re going down, Little Bee.” I’ll smash my hand through the glass and cheat if I have to. Anything to kiss her again.

A short vibration in my pocket has me pulling my phone out to check a new message in the group chat. It’s not as lively as it used to be. We still talk and banter, but not as much as we used to. The feed is mostly pictures of my nephews these days. Be it those already growing and crawling or those still cooking in their mommies’ tummies.

I’m not gonna lie; I can’t make out the babies on ultrasound pictures unless Colt points out the head, arms, and legs.

Logan: Lifesaver. Thanks.

Theo: Who’s the girl, bro?

I scroll up to the picture, nothing visible but Vee’s hand holding the Slurpee in the background.

Damn, he’s good.

I guess I can’t blame him for being nosy. It’s not like I ever took a girl out anywhere. I usually meet them at frat parties, and the only place I take them is the bed, bathroom, or car.

Cody: Mrs. Hayes in the making.

Cheeky fucker. My thumb wavers over , but I change my mind about replying and slip my phone into my back pocket.

I’ve got more important things to do than entertain my brothers.

“Which one do you want?” I ask Vee, getting a kick out of seeing the corners of her mouth twitch in amusement.

She’s got the prettiest, most genuine smile I’ve ever seen and, when paired with a raised eyebrow… perfection.

There’s not one thing about her I don’t like.

“Have you got a niece?” she asks.

“Not yet.”

Not that Logan isn’t trying his hardest. Cass is a long way off her due date with baby number two, but Logan’s already begging for number three any chance he gets. I doubt he’ll stop begging until he gets a daughter.

Good thing Cassidy’s patience could rival our mother’s.

“Three nephews so far. Two more on the way,” I say.

Give it a couple more years, and I’ll need a list with names to hand for Christmas shopping. Shawn’s got two boys, Josh and Aiden. Logan’s got Noah and Eli on the way, and Thalia’s due this month, a boy, too—River.

Five kids.

Add Nico and Mia’s kids to the mix when the time comes, plus however many Logan talks Cass into, and we’ll have enough to start a Hayes football team.

And that’s even before Colt, Cody, and I get started.

Vivienne eyes the plush toys, rapping her knuckles against the glass. “Okay, grab another t-rex so Logan can stash it somewhere in case this one goes walkabout too.”

“Good thinking, but once we have a spare, we’re not leaving until we get you that…” I point at a gray bear with big black eyes. “He’ll keep you warm at night.”

. I feed a few coins into the machine, gripping the lever. “Count.”

. With each unsuccessful attempt, I grow a little less confident and a lot more frustrated, my wish at the forefront of my mind, begging to be fulfilled.

The sound of the coins clinking, the whir of the gears, and the plushies tumbling fade away. I’m not the only one growing anxious. Vivienne’s watching with bated breath as the claw plunges again and again.

By the twentieth try, I’m out of coins. “Wait here. I need change.”

I grab two more Slurpees and cotton candy while I’m at the counter, then go back to Vee, whose body barricades the machine like she’s defending national secrets.

“Twenty more tries,” she reminds me, tearing off some candy, pushing it into her open mouth and… fuck.

Just like that, all I think about is how sweet she’d taste if I kissed her now.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to find the same toy online?”

I shrug, dropping more coins into the slot. “Sure, but what’s the fun in that? The shop won’t grant me a wish if they don’t deliver on time.”

She stuffs her mouth with more cotton candy, and I’m barely keeping my hands to myself, watching her lick her lips, oblivious to how sexy she looks. How titillating her every move is.

The claw loses the t-rex halfway to the hole on the fortieth try, catapulting my temper sky high. There goes my wish, floating out of view like a runaway balloon.

“You win, Little Bee.” I grab my Slurpee, gulp three large sips too fast, and cringe, experiencing a bad case of brain freeze. “What’s the wish?”

She’s silent for a long time, staring me down like she’s peeling the layers of my psyche. Whenever I snuck a look at her while I tried to win the t-rex, her eyes were on me, not the prize. She watched my face grow taut, my annoyance mounting with each failure, and she’s watching now while frustration corrupts my voice.

I’m a sore loser. Always have been. Now, the stakes are so high it’s a goddamn miracle I don’t throw a tantrum (im)patiently awaiting the verdict.

“Kiss me,” she whispers, eyes not leaving mine.

My body lets go of the tension it’s been holding. Relief rattles through me, and two weeks’ of frustration slide off my heart and mind like melting snow off a roof. I don’t give her a second to think it through.

Not a second to change her mind.

I take a step forward and almost fucking tackle her, catching her lips with mine as I pin her against the machine, my tongue finding hers before she even wraps her arms around my neck.

Two weeks since I last kissed her. Two weeks of thinking about this girl non-stop.

I lean into her, letting her feel the weight of my body and the hard-on that sprung to life in seconds.

She’s everything. The kiss is fucking everything. Hard, demanding, thorough. My fingers tangle through her hair, and she responds like she’s been electrified, trembling in my arms. My chest tightens.

My cock twitches and balls pull taut.

She marks her disapproval with a soft, low moan when I come up for air. Her eyes dart to my lips with a hint of wildness, like a psychological switch has been flipped. Finally, her hunger matches mine… raises the stakes.

She grips my collar and yanks me back, her heart drumming against my chest.

The fire of her body, the softness of her lips… that fucking cotton candy and cherry Slurpee taste on her tongue… addictive. Drugging. I want more. I want it all, but not yet, and definitely not here.

Not until she admits she’s mine.

I pull back enough to watch my thumb trace her bottom lip. “That was my wish, Little Bee.”

“I know,” she hums, her chest heaving, arousal painting her flushed face. “I think you deserve it for your determination.”

I clasp her chin between my fingers, tilt her head back, and take her mouth in another kiss.

Kiss . Short, biting, full of passion that heats my blood, giving me second-degree burns. I bite her bottom lip and soothe the ache, licking along the seam of her mouth.

It doesn’t matter that we met two weeks ago. That this is our first date. That we didn’t get off to a great start. None of it matters. Only the intensity of this moment. The emotions coursing through me. How she flips my world upside down and simultaneously anchors me in place.

I already know…

And I’ve never been so certain of anything.

It’s absolutely insane, but no matter how much I try and fool my brain, the nagging certainty won’t fade.

Vee’s mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.

“Let’s check if your theory’s correct,” I say, pulling away when someone clears their throat nearby.

It’s a father with two toddlers at his side, a condescending look tainting his face. “This is a public place,” he clips.

“And this is a public display of affection,” I fire right back, moving Vee in front of me, her back to my chest.

“There are kids here,” the guy adds, clearly looking to pick a verbal fight. “This is inappropriate.”

“Kissing is inappropriate?”

“That wasn’t kissing—”

“No? I feel sorry for your wife, man. If you’re waiting for an apology, don’t hold your breath. And if you don’t want your kids seeing people kiss, don’t bring them out at ten in the evening.”

He huffs something incomprehensible, stares me down a moment longer, and caves, taking his kids outside.

I wrap my arm around Vivienne, placing one hand on the lever. Before dropping another coin into the slot, I dip my head, stamping a kiss in the crook of her neck, inducing goosebumps and…

My dick’s not catching a break tonight. It won’t settle until I rub one out later. And I’ll have to because the sight of Vee’s nipples straining against the fabric of her t-shirt is fucking art.

She’s not wearing a bra.

How have I not noticed? How firm and perfect are her breasts that I notice she’s not wearing a bra?

She tilts her head back against my shoulder so I can see the machine.

“You’re stalling,” she says. “Play.”

I inhale a deep breath, inching the lever forward. “Are you in a rush?”

She lets a heavy sigh past her lips. “It’s getting late. I promised my dad I’ll be back at eleven.”

I release the claw in the wrong place, watching it barely grasp the t-rex’s tail, coming up with nothing.

“Your dad?” I spin her around, my heartrate accelerating. “How old are you?”

“Relax, I’m twenty-one, but while I live under his roof, I abide by his rules.” She parrots what I think is supposed to be her dad’s stern tone.

“His words, right?”

She nods once, moving to lean against the machine, out of my reach. “He’s very protective. I don’t have a curfew or anything, but if I say I’ll be back at eleven, I keep my word. Besides, I have work in the morning.”

I glance at my wristwatch, checking how long we have left. It’s already a quarter past ten. Fuck. “Is your car outside , or can I drive you home?”

Her cheeks flare pink instantly, twisting my insides tighter and tighter. She’s embarrassed, those silver eyes darting sideways, a glimpse into her raw, unguarded parts.

I fucking hate she feels like this around me. I hate that she thinks I’d judge her for living in a trailer.

“I don’t need a ride,” she says, no longer at ease but wound up tight again. “But if you could drop me off at the diner by half-ten, that would be good.”

Which means we’ve got five minutes before we need to head out. “Okay, but don’t tell your dad you’ll be back this early next time.” I pull her back to me, cuddling her into my chest, then pop more coins into the slot.

I should’ve paid attention when Cody taught Mia how to cheat the claw machine.

***

“This was fun,” Vee says, her face fixed in faint surprise as I park the car outside the diner.

The slight undertone of confusion in her voice is both cute and infuriating. She must’ve thought her judgmental opinions would be proven right and can’t quite believe I’m not every fucking plague she expected.

“I want to see you again, Little Bee,” I say, watching her lips curl softly. She hands over the two t-rexes; the second one won on the forty-fifth try. “Sooner rather than later.”

The need to kiss her writhes inside me, almost uncontainable. It will have to wait, though.

will have to wait.

She enjoyed tonight. The tension I summoned, asking if I could take her home, drained after a moment of my arms around her. She relaxed and let her guard down. So much so that she started muttering random sentences as if the barriers holding them in place tumble when I’m around.

I don’t think she’s noticed she speaks out loud, and I won’t point it out, enjoying her words too much to risk her not letting me inside her head, even if unknowingly.

She whispered

when the second t-rex tumbled from the machine, and when I took her hand in mine. A very faint when I stamped a short, biting kiss to the crook of her neck as I opened the passenger side door.

If the way she kissed me back before, melting in my arms—where she belongs—wasn’t clue enough, those tiny peeks into her mind sealed the deal: she’s into me. Maybe just as much as I’m into her.

I don’t think knowing it should make me feel like I’m floating six feet above the ground, but we’ve had the strangest start, and I’m not taking those little things for granted.

Still, I’m not clueless. I pay enough attention to know that no matter how good Vee feels with me, she’s a long way off trusting me. She’s ashamed of her life, something I honestly cannot wrap my head around, and at the same time, something I want her to work through fast.

I keep reminding myself this is still fresh despite how overwhelming my sudden obsession with this girl is. We met three weeks ago. Went on date.

She doesn’t know me well enough to form a proper opinion, and that’s why I’m not kissing her again until she’s sure I’m not who she has me pegged for.

“I’d like that, too,” she admits, grabbing the handle.

“When are you free?”

“I finish work every evening at nine, and I don’t work Sundays.”

We could have dinner tomorrow, but that might be pushing my luck. She needs time to process what she learned tonight. Time to miss me. That sense of longing I’m trying to evoke is why I stayed away from her the whole goddamn week.

Patience is a virtue.

And it’s working so far.

“Sunday it is. Can I pick you up?”

Her cheeks immediately pink up—another punch right in the fucking gut.

“Maybe some other time.” She leans out of her seat and I feel her lips on my cheek. “Goodnight.”

Oh, Jesus…

.

A brutal stab of lust pierces me, convulsing my nerve endings. It’s so potent it obliterates my resolution to not kiss her. I grip her neck, seal her lips, and cup her face with my other hand, barely holding off dragging her across the middle console onto my lap.

I don’t.

But I do bite her bottom lip, watching it swell up nicely, the image enough to help relieve some tension when I get home.